williamafton26

Latest Posts by williamafton26

a song of past romance a royal / greek au gojo fic

pairing ⸺ suitor/king!gojo x princess!reader

summary ⸺ king gojo satoru of ithaca travels to sparta, seeking to win over who they say is the most beautiful mortal woman's heart. so when he sees you upon his arrival weaving under an olive tree, looking goddess-sent, he immediately loses the plot and concludes that it must be you that the tales and legends must talk about. it is not, but gojo has chosen who his queen will be. as gojo continues to break down your walls with his endless devotion and silver tongue, you must decide: will you let duty and your loved ones's expectations decide your fate, or will you choose the man who would defy even the heavens to claim you as his queen ?

warnings ⸺ smut, p i v sex, oral f recieving, whimpering gojo agenda <3, fluff, a big of angst if you squint, some insecurity, pining, banterTM, gojo is really whipped for reader, odypen inspired (this one's for my epic/pjo baddies), extensive greek mythology knowledge not needed, athena is tired of gojo lol, jealousy, helen is a sassy diva, not totally accurate to the lore of the illiad bc i just use the premise, mentions of children/pregnancy at the end if you squint, semi edited, art by @/yunonoaii

a/n my hyperfixation made me write this lol. you dont need to know anything about greek mythology to read this fic it's more of a period piece / royal au :3

general masterlist

You had registered the young man’s presence for quite some time now.

Ever since your beloved cousin Helen—the most beautiful woman in the world, the kallikomos, kalliparēios Helen—had come of age, your palace had been plagued by an unceasing tide of suitors. Even a respite alone in the garden, in peace, was not guaranteed to you; just as the ivory haired suitor (who thought himself furitive) that had been sneaking and skirting around you for a while now, there were countless of men on the palace grounds desperate to even get a glimpse of what the countless legends and tales about Helen had described. 

Though, you weren’t jealous of your lovely cousin—you loved her to death. But it was getting on your nerves, because you had hoped for a quiet evening relaxing under the olive tree you were sitting in. This mn, however, was different.

For some time now, the ivory-haired suitor had been skirting the edges of your sanctuary, moving as though he thought himself invisible. You could feel his gaze, sharp and intent, as you alternated between weaving and reading. His persistence should have irritated you. And yet, there was something amusing about his poor attempt at stealth.

The telltale rustle of grass betrayed him once again. You sighed, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear before reaching up to gather it all, baring the curve of your neck to the evening breeze.

The stalker suitor tripped with a loud thud.

You blinked. Then, sighing once more, you set down your spindle and turned. "I know you’re there," you called, unimpressed.

Silence, then a low chuckle.

When he finally stepped into the open, your disinterested gaze lifted—and promptly widened.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. The build of a warrior, yet the face of a prince. A mischievous, almost boyish charm softened the sharp lines of his features, but his striking blue eyes gleamed with something untamed.

Helen would have a field day with him. Like that one thing she said about how she looovedd versatile men, the ones that could manhandle you but also whimper. Or whatever. 

Then, to your utter shock, he dropped to one knee, extending his hand toward you in a bold gesture of devotion. His demeanor was confident, but you saw him sporting a hue of pink on his cheeks. It was rather cute, but any feelings of fondness disappeared at his next words.

"O’ Helen—" the suitor began, his voice rich with reverence, "fairest of all women, whose beauty outshines even the dawn—"

You exhaled sharply through your nose. Of course.

"—permit me but a moment to bask in your radiance, for no mortal man could gaze upon you and remain unchanged—"

Your fingers curled tightly around the threads of your spindle.

"—grant me the honor of—"

"Try again," you cut in, your voice deceptively sweet.

The suitor paused mid-sentence, blinking up at you.

"Pardon?"

You raised an unimpressed brow, tilting your head. "If you’re going to wax poetic, you might at least direct it toward the right woman."

His lips parted, then pressed into a puzzled frown. He tilted his head, sharp blue eyes scanning your face as if trying to decipher a riddle. "But… you are Helen," he said slowly, as if testing the words.

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. "Afraid not."

A pause.

His gaze flickered over you again, as if he could will you into being Helen just by staring hard enough. "Are you sure?"

You gave him a look. "I would hope I know my own name."

His brows drew together, clearly struggling to process this revelation. "But you’re—you’re sitting under an olive tree, looking vaguely divine. Your hair caught the light just now in a way that seemed very… goddess-sent. You have the whole tragic air of someone who is probably devastatingly beautiful and sought after by hundreds."

You blinked, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck. You shouldn’t be affected by his bromides, for his words must be a ploy to gain back his image after offending you. "Is that supposed to be an apology?"

He squinted. "More like a logical assessment of my mistake."

You sighed. "Well, your 'logical assessment' is incorrect."

He sat back on his heels, regarding you with blatant skepticism. "I don’t know," he said slowly. "I came here for Helen. You’re here. And you're lovely. Seems like a very Helen thing to do."

You gave him a flat stare in return. "What, exist?"

"Exactly."

You rolled your eyes. "I see why they make you fight instead of think."

At that, the suitor huffed a short laugh, his earlier embarrassment giving way to something more amused, more interested. "Alright," he conceded, crossing his arms over his knee. "If you aren’t Helen, then who are you?"

You leaned back against the tree, allowing yourself a small, satisfied smirk. "The woman you just proposed to by accident."

He blinked. Then groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "The gods are laughing at me."

"As they should," you replied smoothly.

To your surprise, he grinned. "That makes two of us, then," he mused, tilting his head at you. "I get the feeling you enjoy seeing men suffer."

A non committal hum from you. “Maybe, maybe not.” With that, you began weaving once more, giving him the signal that his presence and platitudes were no longer needed.  

Yet, he remained.

You could feel his gaze lingering, heavy with an amusement that refused to wane. He had the look of someone thoroughly entertained, and that irritated you more than anything. Having conversed with him, you knew he was sharper than the average suitor—quick-witted, quicker still to recover from his blunders. Though he had not done anything to overtly suggest it, there was something about him that set him apart. It was a feeling—an air around him, something god-graced.

You paid it no mind.

He had not meant for you to be the one on the receiving end of his affection, and it would do you no good to cling to a man who had come here seeking another. He was meant to lose his mind over Helen, not take interest in you.

"Tell me your name," he said suddenly, breaking the silence.

You didn't pause in your weaving. "Why?"

A short huff of laughter. "I figure if I’m already embarrassing myself in front of a woman, I should at least know which one."

You shot him a sidelong glance, unimpressed. "Bold of you to assume you’ll be staying long enough for it to matter."

His grin deepened. "Well, now I have to stay, just to prove you wrong."

You sighed, shaking your head. "You’re insufferable."

"I’ve been told worse," he admitted. Then, leaning forward just slightly, he added, "Though never by a woman whose name I don’t know."

You lifted a brow at him, unimpressed. "And do you have a name, then, mysterious suitor?"

His expression shifted, something proud yet teasing gleaming in those striking blue eyes.

"Gojo Satoru," he declared, as if it should mean something to you. "Of Ithaca."

You hummed, as if considering. "Never heard of it."

He blinked, then scoffed. "Never heard of Ithaca?" He placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "A land of brilliant minds, fierce warriors, and some say the most handsome men to ever walk the earth—"

"Ah," you interjected, dry. "That explains it."

He smirked. "Explains what?"

"Why I’ve never heard of it."

A beat of silence. Then, to your dismay, he laughed—fully, unabashedly, as if you’d just handed him the greatest gift in the world.

You huffed, returning your attention to your weaving. "Now that you have a name to be proud of, surely you can be on your way."

"Not yet," he said, far too easily.

You didn’t look up. "Why?"

"Because you haven’t given me yours."

You didn’t miss the way his voice dipped, taking on something smoother, something more coaxing. He was trying to charm it out of you, as if your name was a prize worth winning.

"Perhaps I simply don’t wish to give it," you mused, feigning disinterest.

"Perhaps you’re afraid," he countered.

You did look up at that, leveling him with an unimpressed stare. "Afraid?"

He shrugged, utterly unbothered. "That if I know your name, I’ll never forget it." His gaze flickered to your hands, to the weaving that had slowed ever so slightly. "And maybe… neither will you."

You forced yourself to resume your work, your fingers steady despite the odd flutter in your chest. "You think too highly of yourself, Gojo Satoru of Ithaca."

"I’m told it’s my greatest flaw," he admitted, smirking. "Well—one of many."

You ignored him, the rhythmic motion of your weaving serving as a convenient distraction.

Gojo exhaled, as if relenting—though something told you he was nowhere near finished with you. He rocked back on his heels, eyeing you with unconcealed interest. "Alright, mystery woman," he drawled. "If you won’t give me your name, I suppose I’ll have to keep guessing."

You didn't dignify that with a response.

But somehow, you knew—this would not be the last time Gojo Satoru of Ithaca sought you out.

…

He had yet to claim your name.

No matter how cunningly he pried, no matter how sweetly he coaxed, you remained steadfast, denying him that small but significant victory.

Satoru had undoubtedly set sail for Sparta in search of a worthy challenge and a faithful bride—but he had not expected to find both in one woman. You were a puzzle, divine and elusive, a riddle spun by the Fates themselves. And for a man who relished the thrill of unraveling mysteries, you were the most captivating enigma he had ever encountered.

Not since the day he bested the enchanted boar—a feat that had drawn Athena’s keen eye and earned him her favor—had he felt such a rush.

He’d dare say you were the first one he’s felt an affinity for, despite the countless of women and candidates he had faced ever since becoming the king of Ithaca.

But before he could ponder more on the thought, he sensed a presence, tensing immediately. Heavy-set footsteps, trying to be quiet in the hallway they were both in.

Satoru crossed his arms, halted where he was. “I know you’re there.”

A laugh barked out in a deep voice. “Perceptive like they say, Gojo Satoru of Ithaca.” 

Satoru watched as Toji Fushiguro sauntered toward him, his movements unhurried, yet carrying the unmistakable confidence of a seasoned warrior. The man was broad-shouldered, his presence commanding, the kind of brute who could cleave a man in half with a single swing of his blade. Yet his grin—sharp, knowing—held more calculation than recklessness.

Toji came to a stop before him, arms crossed, weight shifted onto one foot like he had all the time in the world, smirking. "No wonder Athena’s got her eye on you."

Satoru tilted his head, feigning nonchalance. "I do have a way of impressing gods and mortals alike," he mused. "Though I imagine you didn’t come all this way just to admire me."

“Just assessing the competition,” Toji hums in response, eyes still assessing Satoru. He was trying to plan three steps ahead; unfortunately for him, Satoru was ten steps ahead. 

“There is no competition,” comes Satoru’s cool response. 

Toji studied Satoru for a moment, his sharp green eyes narrowing slightly. Then, with an amused scoff, he asked, "You’re not here to fight for Helen’s hand? Are you crazy?”

Satoru let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as if the very thought was amusing. "Helen?" he echoed, letting the name roll from his tongue with deliberate care. He lifted a hand, absently brushing an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve. "No, I’m afraid I have no interest in her."

Toji studied him, eyes narrowing. "She’s the most beautiful woman in the world."

Satoru did not deny it. "So they say."

"And yet," Toji pressed, his tone skeptical, "you aren’t here for her?"

Satoru finally looked at him properly, his head tilting, his gaze alight with something teasing, something unreadable. "Not in the way you are." He let the words settle between them before continuing, his tone almost indulgent. "You’re welcome to her."

Toji’s mouth pressed into a thin line. His instincts told him Satoru was not lying, yet something about the Ithacan’s expression, the way he carried himself, the glint in those striking blue eyes—it all made him wary. He had met many warriors in his time, but this was no brute with a sword, no hotheaded prince desperate to claim a prize.

Satoru Gojo was something else entirely.

"So what is it, then?" Toji asked, crossing his arms tighter, his voice edged with suspicion. "You sailed all this way, and for what? A festival?"

Satoru’s smirk deepened, his expression inscrutable. "Let’s just say Sparta has given me a rather interesting puzzle."

Toji scoffed but let it drop, running a hand through his dark hair. "Whatever," he muttered. "If you're really not here for Helen, then maybe you can help me."

Satoru hummed in vague interest. "Oh?"

"I intend to win her," Toji stated plainly. "But I could use an extra hand in ensuring things go my way."

Satoru did not answer immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze upward, as though admiring the vaulted ceilings of the hall, as though considering some grander design that only he could see. Then, with the ease of a man wholly unbothered by the concerns of others, he exhaled through his nose, the beginnings of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Don't worry about it," he said at last, his voice rich with something almost too smooth, too assured. "Everything is already falling into place."

Toji stiffened slightly at the words, his war-honed instincts bristling at their implication. He did not like things he could not predict, and Gojo Satoru of Ithaca was proving to be as unreadable as the gods themselves.

His brows lowered. "And what the hell does that mean?"

But Satoru only laughed, turning on his heel, the faintest shimmer of torchlight catching in his silver-white hair.

"Guess you’ll just have to wait and see."

And with that, he strode off, his footsteps unhurried, leaving Toji standing in the flickering shadows, frowning after him.

…

The great hall of Sparta was alive with the clash of bronze and the roars of men. The suitors, assembled from all corners of Greece, fought with a desperation that could only belong to those who sought glory and the hand of Helen. Blades flashed, spears thrust, and the resounding clamor of shields meeting shields filled the air like the din of battle.

Satoru Gojo of Ithaca stood at the edge of the fray, watching with a detached amusement. He had not drawn his blade, nor did he so much as feign interest in the chaos unfolding before him. Instead, his arms were loosely crossed, his posture relaxed, his sharp blue gaze studying each warrior as though they were mere pieces on a game board.

Meanwhile, you and Helen watched from the shade of a marble colonnade, seated atop a cushioned bench where servants had arranged fruits and wine for the both of you. But neither of you reached for the offerings; your gazes remained transfixed on the chaos below.

You shook your head at the ridiculous display. "It must be nice to be fought for by so many men," you murmured, resting your chin in your palm.

Helen sighed daintily—in a way that was so typically Helen it made you smile fondly—her hair catching the afternoon light like threads spun from the sun itself. “I will admit that it has its advantages.”

You cast her a dry look before gesturing at the men below. “Helen,” you shook your head, sighing exasperatedly, “they’re savages. They’re beating each other senselessly. Does this not disgust you?” Instead, your cousin’s beautiful lips curled up in a knowing smile, teasing you, “Jealous, my dear cousin?”

“No.” But the answer came a little too quickly, a little too defensively. The yells and violence was a display of brutishness—but you would not be truthful to yourself if you didn’t admit that you were a bit envious of the attention your cousin was getting. 

However, one would be a fool to confuse your sentiments for bitterness—as a princess yourself, there were no shortage of men who would be here to get you as a prize, if they did not get Helen. No shortage of men wondering who is he? Who is the man who’ll have the princess as his wife?

But unfortunately, it seemed that your father, the Spartan king Icarius, had other plans, for he would not let any man be your husband so easily. In fact, he did not wish you to marry and be taken away from him.

It was safe to say that not much male attention was on you due to this obstacle.

Helen showed no reaction to your response, but only hummed. “This fighting—sooner or later, you’re going to be in my shoes. You’re going to have to choose at one point, too, my dear.” 

“Says who?” You scoffed, turning your eyes back to the courtyard. “Do not forget Helen, these men want power. Power so they can tower above each other, place themselves above all others.”

Helen shrugged. “So what?”

You shook your head. “Silly Helen. Wouldn’t you prefer some intellectual prowess over some…savage?”  

Before Helen could reply, a shift in the air drew both of your attention back to the courtyard.

The chaos had stilled, if only for a moment. A singular figure stood at the center of it all, his ivory hair catching the wind, his stance languid yet poised.

That suitor.

The gathered nobles whispered among themselves, exchanging glances as Satoru approached the high table where the King of Sparta, Tyndareus, sat watching. The aged king stroked his beard, his expression unreadable as the Ithacan prince stopped before him, offering a bow that barely concealed the glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Your Majesty," Satoru began smoothly, "it seems we have our victor. But before we move forward, I believe there is an agreement that must be made."

The murmurs in the hall grew louder. Tyndareus narrowed his eyes slightly. "Speak, Gojo of Ithaca."

Satoru straightened, clasping his hands behind his back. "These men have come from every kingdom in Greece, each seeking the honor of marrying your daughter. Such a prize, however, comes with its dangers. Whoever wins Helen’s hand will earn not just her love but the envy and ire of the rest." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the hall. "If left unchecked, this jealousy could lead to war."

Tyndareus’s jaw tightened. It was a concern he himself had harbored, though few had dared to speak it outright.

Satoru’s lips curled at the edges, his voice turning smooth, persuasive. "I propose an oath. Let every suitor here, whether victorious or defeated, swear allegiance to Helen’s chosen husband. Let them vow, upon the gods, to uphold this union and defend it should any outside force seek to undo it. In doing so, Sparta ensures peace among the great kingdoms, rather than sows the seeds of discord."

Silence fell over the hall. The assembled nobles exchanged glances, the weight of the proposal heavy in the air. Even Toji, ever the warrior, raised a brow in consideration.

Tyndareus studied Satoru for a long moment, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his throne. Then, slowly, he nodded. "You are wise beyond your years, Gojo of Ithaca. Your proposal is sound. Let it be done."

A herald stepped forward, calling for the gathered suitors to kneel. One by one, they bent the knee, placing their hands over their hearts, swearing their loyalty to Helen’s future husband, binding themselves to an oath that would shape the course of history.

As the final echoes of the vow rang through the hall, Satoru turned his gaze to Toji, his smirk deepening ever so slightly. The pieces were falling into place, just as he had foreseen.

Meanwhile, in your place—where you and Helen were spectating the whole event away from common sight—Helen nudged you slightly, voice hushed in interest you hadn’t seen her display for any suitor yet. “Did you see that—the way he sweet talked my father?” Her gentle eyes widened in a way that could kill a man. “Who is he?”

You had no answer. Because, truthfully, you were wondering the same thing.

…

The palace gardens were quiet at this hour, bathed in the golden glow of the late afternoon sun. The scent of myrrh and olive trees lingered in the air, mixing with the faint salt of the distant sea. You sat with Helen beneath the shade of a vine-laden pergola, her back pressed against your legs as you wove your fingers through her silken strands, carefully braiding them into an intricate plait.

Helen, ever the restless one, sighed dramatically. “Do you suppose I should be flattered or terrified?”

You didn’t have to ask what she meant. The courtyard had been in an uproar for hours after the suitors’ oath had been sworn. Servants gossiped in hushed tones, and noblewomen tittered behind their veils. The future queen of Sparta had just gained the loyalty of every warrior present—whether she wanted it or not.

“Why not both?” you mused, separating another section of her hair.

Helen laughed, tossing her head slightly. “It is one thing to be the object of admiration. It is quite another to be the cause of bloodshed.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, though your fingers stilled when she spoke again, voice full of mischief.

“Did you see him?”

You resumed braiding. “Who?”

Helen turned just enough to throw you an incredulous look. “Who?” she repeated, mockingly. “As if you do not know exactly who I speak of. Gojo Satoru of Ithaca.”

You clicked your tongue. “Oh, him.”

“Oh, him?” Helen scoffed. “Do not play coy, cousin. He commanded that entire courtyard without lifting a blade.”

You smiled, but she could not see you. “That only proves he is cunning,” you pointed out, keeping your voice neutral.

“That proves he is powerful,” Helen countered, shifting as you tugged lightly at her braid. “He held those men in the palm of his hand.”

Barking out a laugh, you continued your work. “Or perhaps he simply enjoys hearing himself speak.”

Helen laughed, tilting her head back against your lap. “You wound me with your dullness. Do you not see? There was something about him. He has the air of a man accustomed to winning.”

You tried not to scowl. Of course he did.

And if Helen had her eye on him, there was no chance for you.

The thought settled in your chest like a stone.

It was not as though you had entertained any hopes—but you were not blind. The way he had looked at you in the hallways, the way he had tried to coax your name from you, the way he had seemed amused by your defiance. It had sparked something treacherous inside of you, something unspoken and foolish.

Because no man, no matter how powerful or wise, would ever choose you over Helen.

You forced your thoughts aside and tightened the braid. “And what of Toji Fushiguro?” you asked lightly, forcing the subject to change. “I noticed you watching him as well.”

Helen hummed, pleased with the shift in conversation. “A brute, but a striking one. I imagine he fights as well as he looks.”

You snorted. “I imagine he thinks with his fists.”

“All the better,” Helen teased. “I should not mind a warrior who throws me over his shoulder and carries me off.”

You rolled your eyes, but you giggled regardless. “You are insufferable.”

Helen twisted, kneeling so that you were now face to face. She reached for your hair, her fingers beginning to weave it into a braid of your own.

“You say I am insufferable, but you have yet to deny that Gojo Satoru is worth admiring,” she murmured.

You sighed exasperatedly, looking anywhere except for your cousin’s eyes. “Must we discuss this?”

Helen’s fingers worked deftly, her expression smug. “It is only natural to discuss the most intriguing men.”

“And yet I am sure you are doing it to torment me.”

“Perhaps a little.” Helen’s grin softened as she studied you. “You would not be so opposed to him if you did not find him interesting.”

You swallowed, looking away. “That is not—”

“You braid my hair with such care,” she interrupted, looping another section of yours. “And yet, you guard your own thoughts as if I am the enemy.”

You closed your eyes briefly, inhaling the scent of lavender and sun-warmed stone. Helen had always been perceptive when she wished to be.

“There is nothing to guard,” you murmured.

Helen merely smiled, finishing your braid with a satisfied tug.

But the knowing look in her eyes unsettled you more than any battle in the courtyard ever could.

…

Despite coming for Helen, Satoru continuously seeks your presence.

Your presence is intoxicating, even the smallest of glimpses of you enough to induce a feeling, one he’d liken to eating the gods’ ambrosia or drinking the finest nectar. Every time he saw you, it was passing moments in the hallways of the palace or sneaked glances while you were in the garden—your chin up, posture proud. Your eyes downcast as if you had no interest in the countless of men among you. The light only returned when you were weaving, or discussing with your cousin.

But Satoru had not been able to see you more than just those miniscule, fleeting moments—it was your accursed father that kept an eye on you during dinners, his withered glare threatening all suitors, as if to remind them: You’re here for Helen, and keep my daughter out of this, for she is not a prize you can easily win.

Little did he know Satoru loved challenges.

So he thanks the gods that an annual Spartan festival is thoroughly celebrated in the palace today.

The hall is the spitting image of revelry. Men adorn their finest tunics while women have braids of flowers and cloths, wine, fresh fruits, and meat are plentiful on all tables. There’s singing, there’s dancing, and, best of all, there’s you.

Satoru’s been observing you for quite some time now. It wouldn’t be fair to call it something akin to a predator stalking his prey; no, you far from being bested by Satoru. More like a bird waiting for all the weaker mates to filter themselves out.

They were like peacocks, the men that came up to you, with the way they flared their artificial grandeur. Each time a young man sat next to you, you remained aloof, giving them nothing but a bunch of polite glances and nods. But it was clear that what ever your responses or questions were, they were nonplussed. Satoru almost felt bad for the fools if it weren’t for how they were encroaching on his time to finally talk to you.

It was the opening that a particularly witless and brutish man had given him—the guy basically leaves the seat next to you, almost in tears from whatever you had said to him, but you only blinked as Satoru approached.

Satoru slid into the recently vacated seat beside you with the grace of a man who had never been denied anything in his life. He draped an arm over the back of his chair, all effortless ease, as if he had been waiting for this moment all night.

"Whatever you said to him, I’d like to hear it," he mused, his lips quirking in amusement. "Though I do hope you go a little easier on me—I’m rather sensitive, you see."

Your gaze flickered to him, unimpressed, though there was something almost imperceptible in your eyes—mild intrigue, perhaps.

"If you are so easily wounded, Your Majesty, then I fear you are not prepared for a Spartan woman’s words."

His grin widened. "Oh, but I live for danger."

You hummed, noncommittal, before returning your attention to the food before you. Satoru, however, found himself transfixed by the way you reached for a slice of fruit, your fingers delicate yet decisive as you brought it to your lips. You took a slow, deliberate bite, and for the first time in his life, Satoru forgot how to speak.

It was absurd, really. He had seen beautiful women eat before—Helen herself had a practiced elegance to it—but there was something about you. Something about the unthinking ease with which you did it, how your lips parted just slightly before closing around the fruit, how you chewed with quiet, effortless grace, unbothered by the weight of hungry gazes that lingered on you.

For a man who had always been surrounded by beauty, who had spent his life sated and indulged, it was utterly unfair that something so simple could leave him spellbound.

Perhaps the gods were toying with him.

"You’ve been staring for quite some time," you remarked, snapping him out of his reverie.

Satoru exhaled a laugh, recovering with impressive speed. "Can you blame me? I’m simply trying to unravel the mystery of how you managed to make that poor soul flee in tears. I’d rather not suffer the same fate."

"Then I suggest you leave now, Your Majesty."

"Not a chance."

You sighed, though there was the ghost of amusement at the corner of your lips. "Persistent, aren’t you?"

Satoru grinned. "And yet, here you are, still talking to me."

He watched as you reached for another piece of fruit, this time slower, as if testing him, watching to see if he would stare again. He nearly laughed—because, of course, he did.

"You truly are hopeless," you muttered, shaking your head.

"Ah, but at least I am entertaining," he countered. "And I do believe I’ve managed what those other poor fools could not—I’ve kept your attention."

You opened your mouth to retort, but he was faster. "Go on, you can admit it," he teased. "I make for much better company than them, don’t I?"

For a moment, you merely regarded him, expression unreadable. Then, to his absolute delight, a soft laugh escaped your lips.

It was small, barely more than an exhale, but it was real.

And gods, it was beautiful.

Satoru leaned in slightly, drinking in the sight of you as if committing it to memory.

"See?" he murmured, triumphant. "I told you I’m quite good at this."

Your amusement lingered, but you shook your head as if in exasperation. "If you say so."

He did not say so. He knew so.

Because despite all the reasons he had come to Sparta, despite all the men who had gathered to win Helen’s hand, Satoru had found himself drawn to you instead.

And he had no intention of stopping now.

But before he could get another word in, a horn sounds, and you nod to him, somewhat apologetically. “That is my call.”

Before he can ask, you head, skirts fluttering behind you as you move to join a growing group of young ladies in the middle. It’s clear the gathering has captured the interest of most of the men that were previously dining. 

You make your way down to the middle, where you arrive at your position—it’s the one you’ve occupied every year. This dance is a show of grace and lineage, a chance for the noblemen to watch and admire, to see which girl carries herself with the most poise, the most elegance, the most effortless charm.

In Gojo’s eyes, it’s easy to determine who that is.

You take your place among your cousins, hands joining as the musicians begin their melody. It is a lighthearted dance, nothing too intricate, nothing that demands much more than the ability to move in time with the others. Your skirts flutter with each step, the long strands of your braid swaying as you turn.

It’s a girlish, lighthearted dance you’ve done since you were little. You and your younger cousins giggle as you go through the motions, reveling in the attentions of the spectators that witness the lovely display with amusement and pure, wholesome adoration.

That is, until you register a special set of eyes on you.

In a specific turn along to the strum of the lyre, you turn gracefully—a move that orients you towards Gojo’s direction. When you finally see his face and notice his presence, it’s like you’re kicked in the chest in a spar with Helen, with the way your breath leaves you.

His eyes are dark, enraptured on you, and only you. Heat creeps up your neck as you move your hands as you’re oddly flustered. His gaze is admiring and is respectful, but the intensity of it—like longing that is toeing the line between lust and pure yearning—makes your heart quicken in a way that you rue your accursed organ, for it to beat so traitorously. When he notices that you’re staring back at him, his jaw—which was clenched—loosens in a smile, but the smile isn’t innocent. It spells out a promise—one unspoken, one that curls at the edges of his lips like a secret meant for you alone. It is the kind of smile that men wear when they know something you don’t, when they have already decided on something long before you’ve even had the chance to argue.

It is sharp. Focused.

It traces the curve of your waist, the sway of your hips, the way your arms extend with each graceful movement.

It darkens.

Heat spreads up your neck before you can help it. The flickering torches of the hall must be to blame, or perhaps the wine in your belly, but you feel warm, too warm, and it is absurd.

Why should you care where Gojo of Ithaca’s eyes linger?

His smirk grows, and it is cocky. Infuriating, even. You snap your head away before he can see how your face burns, resuming your dance with the others, willing yourself to shake off the foolishness that has settled in your bones.

But even as you turn, even as the skirts of your dress flare and the room around you continues its celebration, you feel it—

His eyes.

Still watching.

…

“Athena, I swear to you that I need her. She is my future wife!” Gojo insists, stomping his feet as he trails the goddess as if he were a child. It reminded the goddess of wisdom of when she first met him—when he had taken down the magic boar she had let loose, showing him of having intellect worthy of being mentored by her. 

But Athena had meant to be a mentor to a warrior of the mind—not this lovesick, pathetic fool in front of her, like a dog whining for food. Athena sighed exasperatedly as another animal she was hunting runs away from Gojo’s sheer loudness. “Enough!” she snaps, but not unkindly. “Who is this princess you speak of, and what kind of spell has she cast on you to become this much of a fool?”

Gojo ignores any insults directed towards him, and instead adorns a bright smile at the mention of you. “She is the cousin of Helen of Sparta, and the daughter of Icarius—”

Gojo is interrupted by a snort. “The same one that swore to never marry his daughter off?”

This gives Gojo a reason to pause. He had not known this fact. “So, how do you propose I—”

Much to his chagrin, the w goddess is already a few steps ahead. “To waste my time on strategy to secure a woman, Gojo, is quite preposterous.

But if you must insist on my counsel, then you shall earn it," Athena declares, turning on her heel to face him fully. Her gaze, sharp as a well-honed blade, sweeps over him, as if assessing whether he is truly worth the effort. "Icarius is a man of reason before all else. He values intellect, discipline, and above all, loyalty. If you wish to stand a chance, you must prove to me two things: one, that she is a wise woman worth of being sought after, and, two, you must prove that you are not merely another suitor blinded by beauty."

Gojo grins, clearly pushing his luck. "So you will help me?"

Athena exhales, the very picture of divine suffering. "I will not gift you the answer, but I will grant you the means to find it yourself."

"Which is just a long-winded way of saying you will help me." He nods sagely, as if he has unraveled the mysteries of Olympus itself.

Athena rubs her temple. "I should have let the boar trample you."

Gojo only laughs, stepping in line beside her as they weave through the woods. His mind is already turning, piecing together what little he knows of Icarius, of you, and of what he must do to win. Because one thing is certain—he will win.

Icarius may have sworn never to wed you off, but Gojo Satoru has never been one to abide by the rules.

…

You do not want to be here.

All you simply wanted was time in your sanctuary, your olive tree. It remained hidden in the royal gardens, so it’s a wonder that Gojo of Ithaca had found you. Of course, you would have to be a fool to not admit that these suitors’ wit paled in comparison to that white-haired young king. Such as this one, for example.

“My lady, I could not help but notice your fair disposition when I looked upon you,” the suitor grins, his teeth bared like a dog catching scent of a meal. It is not a pleasant expression. You do not react, save for clutching your weaving tighter to your chest. He steps closer, and you take measured care not to recoil, though the instinct is strong. “May you grant me your name—”

“I would have to apologize,” you cut him, already turning away. “My father does not—”

You’re stopped by a harsh grip on your wrist, and you wrench your gaze back to the suitor in shock. 

"You wound me, my lady," the man says, still smiling as if this was amusing. As if he had power over you. Physical power, you suppose, but clearly this man was lacking in intellect, to not have noticed his presence. "You have been so cold to me, and I—"

He does not notice the shadow behind him.

“Ah,” a voice interjects, smooth, easy. “That’s no way to hold a lady’s hand, is it?”

The grip on your wrist slackens, but another takes its place—light, barely a touch.

Gojo.

The suitor’s face twists in confusion, but it quickly shifts to pain as Gojo applies the smallest pressure to his wrist.

“You—”

“She said no,” Gojo interrupts breezily. “And I’d hate to make a scene, so do us all a favor and leave before I decide to break something, yeah?”

With an effortless flick of his hand, the suitor stumbles back, shaking out his wrist as if burned.

Gojo does not spare him another glance. His attention is on you.

“Are you alright?” His voice is softer now, no teasing lilt, no easy arrogance.

You hesitate, unsettled.

“I was handling it,” you say, though it does not come out as firm as you would like.

Gojo only hums, something that sounds like, I know you could, but you’re distracted by his eyes drifting down to your wrist, where a faint mark has already begun to bloom.

His gaze darkens, but you hurry to assure him. “I’ll bandage this, it’s not a big wound—”

He interrupts you. “No need,” gently holds your shoulder, as if imploring you to follow him into the direction he’s started to walk, “I’ll do it myself.”

“That’s not—”

“Look.” He shoots you a look, but it is not unkind nor patronizing. You realize belatedly that it has set your heart aflutter. “I trust that you know how to bandage your wound. But I have had countless like it, so you are with a skilled master in healing. And who knows which suitors may find you on your journey to the physician?

You purse your lips, biting back a retort but failing. “And aren’t you one of the said suitors?”

His lips pull back in an amused smile, and you notice his hand is still resting lightly on your shoulder. “I think we both know I’m different.” You bite back a smile.

“Oh, really?” you remark dryly, but the look in your eyes is anything but. “And how did Your Majesty acquire the title of being different?”

His thumb brushes, just barely, against the fabric of your sleeve before he withdraws his hand entirely, as if sensing that he’s lingered too long. But his smirk remains, insufferable as ever.

“For one, I don’t make a habit of forcing myself upon unwilling women,” Gojo remarks, a pointed edge to his otherwise careless tone. “And for another…” He tilts his head, considering you. “I daresay I might be infatuated in a way they—or you—couldn’t comprehend.”

Your breath catches, but you recover quickly, huffing as you turn away. “All these sweet nothings. Helen will love you.”

Gojo chuckles, stepping ahead of you as he leads the way. “Yet she is not the one I am after.”

You pause. Soak in his words. Outwardly, you roll your eyes and follow him for you were at a lack of words, but inside Poseidon’s storm rages inside you at his words, creating a ferocious whirlpool of conflicting feelings.

His strides are long and easy, as if he belongs wherever he walks, and yet, he slows his pace just enough for you to keep up. The gesture is not lost on you.

The physician’s chamber is quiet when you arrive, save for the distant chatter of servants outside. Gojo does not call for assistance. He merely gestures for you to sit, pulling out a small cloth and a bowl of water, his movements easy and practiced.

“You’ve done this before,” you murmur as he kneels before you, pressing the damp cloth against your wrist.

His smile is unreadable. “I am a warrior, am I not?”

The cold seeps into your skin, making you shiver. Gojo notices. His touch, for all his bravado, is unbearably gentle. You do not know what to make of it.

“You’ll bruise,” he says softly, fingers skimming over the faint marks. “Does it hurt?”

You swallow. “No.”

A lie.

Gojo’s gaze flickers up to yours, and for the first time, there is no teasing in his expression—only something quiet and knowing, something that makes your heart betray you in its weakness.

For a moment, you both fall into a silence, and, to avoid his gaze, you go back to clutching at your hand and staring at it, as if there’s something really intriguing about it. Then, he speaks up. “Want to play?”

You bring your gaze back to him, caught off guard. “What?”

He cocks his head in a direction to which you face, and there you see it: a game board. One to play petteia. 

You turn back at him, blinking. “You play petteia?”

Gojo grins, stretching out with a lazy ease that only makes you more suspicious. As if he has ulterior motives to this. “What, surprised? Strategy games are a warrior’s pastime.”

You squint him. That line of reasoning was rather true, you suppose. Something told you—something being the way he convinced Helen’s father so easily, how he always seemed three, no, six steps ahead—that he was no normal warrior, no normal brute. Huffing, you remark offhandedly, “I suppose a true warrior does sharpen his mind as well as his sword. It’s a pity that you’ll be losing today. To me.”

His smile deepens, and it makes you notice small indents in his cheeks as a result, and the way there’s a rosy pink hue on his cheeks, as if he’s excited to see what you can do.  “Then by all means, put me to shame.”

You settle onto the floor, determined, as he arranges the pieces between you. The rules are simple enough—capture your opponent’s pieces by flanking them on either side—but the way Gojo moves is anything but. He plays with an insufferable sort of confidence, shifting his pieces with flicks of his fingers, as if the game is already his to win.

Until it isn’t, obviously.

He frowns when the click of stone dropped onto the board sounds. You’ve cut off his advancing soldier, trapping it neatly between two of your own.

“Huh,” he muses, tapping his chin. He stares at the board, mind no doubt going at a speed unfathomable to most. His eyes flick rapidly, as if assessing the position of all the stone and calculating all the possible moves and permutations that can salvage him out of the situation you’ve created for him. You maintain your poker face, but inside, you want to smile. You had calculated those said combinations a few steps ago, and it’d be really hard to get out of this. Then, comes out a “That was… unexpected.”

You smile sweetly. “What’s wrong? Did the great King of Ithaca not anticipate that?”

Gojo exhales, dragging a hand through his hair while huffing out a laught. “You’re quite ruthless, aren’t you?”

“I’m practical,” you correct, claiming another of his pieces. “And good at this game.”

Gojo squints at the board, as if trying to decipher where exactly he went wrong. “You do know you’re supposed to let me win, right? My pride is fragile.”

“I wasn’t aware kings had fragile pride.”

“You wound me, my lady.” He presses a hand to his chest, but his movements are distracted as he moves another piece—only for you to immediately trap it.

His head snaps up. “Wait—”

You make your final move, effortlessly cornering his last few soldiers.

Silence.

Gojo blinks at the board.

You clear your throat. “Do you need a moment to process this?”

Slowly, he leans back, shaking his head with something close to awe. “You know, I was planning to go easy on you, but I don’t think that would have helped.”

You grin, triumphant. “I’ll take that as an admission of defeat.”

Gojo exhales through his nose, then tilts his head at you, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes.

“You’re dangerous,” he says, and you’re not quite sure if it’s a compliment or a warning.

“Maybe to an overconfident king who underestimates his opponent.”

That urges out a laugh from him, and he shakes his head. “Trust me, I was not underestimating you. It seemed that I had overestimated myself.”

Before you can respond, Gojo leans forward, propping his chin on his hand as he watches you with something unsettlingly thoughtful.

You don’t trust that look.

“What?” you ask warily.

He hums. “Just thinking.”

“That’s a dangerous pastime for you.”

Gojo presses a hand over his chest, as if wounded. “Cruel. After I iced your wrist and let you absolutely demolish me at petteia, this is the thanks I get?”

“You act as if I owe you something.”

His smirk returns, slow and smug. “Well, since you mention it…”

You narrow your eyes. “No.”

“You didn’t even hear me out.”

“I know you well enough to predict whatever absurd request you’re about to make.”

Gojo lets out a dramatic sigh, tilting his head back. “And here I was, about to propose something completely reasonable. A fair exchange.”

You arch a brow. “Fair?”

He nods, all feigned seriousness. “See, I let you win.”

“You most certainly did not.”

“And I helped with your wrist.”

Your lips press into a line. “Which you did of your own volition.”

Gojo ignores this. “So, as a completely justified request, I think you should let me meet you in the royal gardens.”

You blink. His words hang in the air between you, a casual proposition that somehow carries more weight than it should.

“The gardens?”

He nods. “By the olive tree at sunset. The one where we met.”

“Why?”

Groaning, he lounges back, pushing his feet out while doing the motion. It makes his long legs come closer to where yours are opposite from him, so much that you can feel their heat. Not direct contact, but there. “Have I not made my advances clear by now?” He moves to a sitting position, a more serious look in his eyes as he earnestly looks at you, but you find it hard—despite your usual dry disposition towards suitors—to maintain eye contact, so you opt to look at your hands instead as his next words strike blows to your treacherous heart.

 “Your Highness, I am here for you. You are far wittier than me—I have things to learn from you. You have bewitched me, for I did not know it was possible for a lady to consume my every waking thoughts in such a violent way as you have. You may think me a stranger, and you may think me one of the many foolish suitors here for Miss Helen’s hand, but I will make you fall in love with me. I will show you that despite my pride, I will be a kind and gentle husband.” He exhales, as if steadying himself, but his eyes remain fixed on you. There is no jest in them, no trace of the arrogance he so often wears like armor. Only something raw.

“And I will absolutely not leave this city until you come back to me in my kingdom as the Queen of Ithaca. It may require god-like skill to convince your father to marry me—but I am nothing if not persistent.”

Before you can even begin to form a response—before you can push past the breath lodged in your throat, the furious pounding in your chest—there’s a voice.

"There you are!"

Helen.

You turn just as she strides toward you, golden as ever, a vision of effortless beauty. She doesn’t seem to have heard a word of what was just spoken, too preoccupied with her own delight at having found you.

"I’ve been looking everywhere," she sighs, linking her arm through yours before glancing at Gojo, who, for once, remains uncharacteristically silent. Her eyes flick between the two of you, and then she hums. "I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything?"

Gojo recovers faster than you do. "Not at all, Your Highness," he says smoothly, a practiced smile slipping into place. "I was simply getting to know your cousin better."

Helen gives him a flirtatious smile, but nevertheless turns to you, frowning. “And why are you at the physician’s?”

You feel Gojo’s eyes follow your movements as you shake your head and rise, walking towards Helen. “An unruly suitor. It was a light bruise, it is not a great matter–”

“A bruise?!”

“Come with me,” you hissed, waving her along so she did not question further. It seemed that the room was very warm, for you felt a heat creep up your neck the longer Gojo’s eyes unequivocally stayed on you. 

Helen blinked, at a loss for words, no doubt pondering why you both were leaving Gojo’s presence so readily. “But His Majesty—”

“Cousin,” you snapped, “did you not have a reason to be looking for me?”

Helen blinks, momentarily distracted. Then, as if something suddenly occurs to her, she brightens.

“Oh! Yes, Father wanted to see you.”

You exhale, relieved—only for it to be short-lived, because she doesn’t move.

She remains rooted in place, glancing back at Gojo with a look that is far too amused for your liking. The flirtatious smile returns, softer now, more intrigued.

“But surely,” she muses, tilting her head, “you wouldn’t mind if I stayed a moment longer? It’s not often one meets a man as charming as His Majesty of Ithaca.”

You narrow your eyes. “Helen.”

“What?” she says, all innocence. “We’re simply talking.”

You glance at Gojo, expecting him to look insufferably pleased, but instead, he’s watching you. Not Helen. You tear your gaze away.

It’s only once the two of you are walking through the halls, out of earshot, that Helen sighs, linking your arms again.

“He’s quite something, isn’t he?” she murmurs.

You keep your eyes ahead. “Perhaps. A bit arrogant, though.”

“He’s clever,” she corrects, then gives you a knowing look. “And you like him.”

You scoff, though the heat on your skin betrays you. “I do not.”

Helen only laughs, shaking her head. “Dearest cousin,” she sighs, “I have seen you endure the most persistent suitors with all the warmth of an ice-cold river. And yet, here you are, playing petteia with him, letting him tend to your wounds.”

You do not have an answer to that.

And Helen does not press further. She only smiles wistfully to herself, as if she already knows how this story will end.

…

The halls are silent at this hour, save for the whisper of your steps against the cool stone. You keep to the shadows, careful, quiet. If anyone were to see you like this—wrapped in a cloak, a weaver in hand, slipping through the corridors like a thief in the night—there would be whispers by morning.

But then again, what whispers have ever concerned you?

The thought does not comfort you as much as it should.

Your grip tightens around the weaver, its familiar weight grounding. You brought it with you on the off chance that Gojo, like most men, proves unreliable. You have no reason to believe he will come; his feelings for you could be temporary lust, a second option in case his primary one—Helen—fails. No reason to have entertained his invitation at all. And yet, you go.

You cannot say why.

A foolish impulse, perhaps. Or simple curiosity. Or maybe—

You push the thought away, focusing instead on the memory that surfaces unbidden.

A conversation with your father, just today while you dined.

You had spoken of Helen’s upcoming wedding of the foreign princes and warriors who sought her hand, of the future that awaited her.

Your father had frowned, the lines of his face deepening. “It is dangerous,” he had said, quiet but firm. “To entrust my daughter to a man who cannot ensure her well-being.”

You had smiled then, easy and unbothered, as if his words did not touch something in you. “It is not you he must convince.”

He had looked at you for a long moment, something unreadable in his gaze, but ended up remarking offhandedly, as if reminding you. “I do not want you to go far from me.”

And you, still smiling, had said nothing at all.

Now, in the solitude of the night, you are no longer smiling.

You know your father’s concern is not unfounded. It is not simply Helen’s future that weighs on him—it is yours.

But it is a strange thing, the way his words linger, how they press against you, heavy and quiet. Not as a warning. Not as a burden. But as something else. Something you cannot yet name.

You reach the courtyard, the olive tree standing tall against the night sky behind a series of trees. You exhale, slow and steady, before walking to reach it, weaver in hand.

If he comes, he comes.

And if not—

Well. You were never the kind to wait idly for a man.

But before you could go on your endless mental tirade of how despicable the male species were, you heard a voice. Gojo’s voice in particular.

Walking closer and closer—to where your olive tree was but not where you were visible, trees providing coverage—you noticed him talking to someone in a hushed, yet excited tone. You use the window of sight allowed by the gap between the trees’ leaves to see him, standing with an owl on his forearm. It’s turned to him, as if paying attention, although exasperatedly, to him while he stands tall as ever, his foot tapping impatiently against the grass.

You hesitate, watching as the owl blinks at him, as if listening, considering his words.

And then it notices you. Its, well, owlish eyes are wide as they lock in on your figure.

With a quiet rustle of feathers, it takes flight, disappearing into the night.

Gojo turns, following its path before his gaze lands on you.

“You scared my friend away,” he says, as if this is the most natural thing in the world.

You blink at him. “You were talking to an owl.”

He shrugs, as if this too is perfectly reasonable. “She’s a good listener. A little judgmental, though.”

You give him a look, unimpressed. “I see you’ve finally found an audience that suits you.”

His lips curve into a slow smile. “And yet, here you are.”

You huff, settling onto one of the smooth stones beneath the tree. “I didn’t come for your company.” You hold up the weaver in your hands, as if that alone is proof of your intentions. “I came to pass the time.”

“Ah,” he drawls, stepping closer, hands slipping into the folds of his cloak. “And yet, you’re talking to me instead.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but he only grins, triumphant.

“Tell me,” he muses, dropping down beside you. “Were you hoping—or predicting, with that fast mind of yours—I wouldn’t come?”

You don’t answer right away, fingers idly threading the weaver. The night air is cool, the scent of olives and earth thick around you.

“Would it have mattered?” you ask at last, voice light, careless.

Gojo watches you, and for a moment, he does not answer either.

Then, quietly, as if confessing something neither of you are ready to name, he says, “Yes.”

You inhale slowly, fingers stilling on the weaver as his answer settles between you.

Yes.

It wasn’t spoken in jest, nor with the easy arrogance he so often wielded. Instead, it was quieter, more certain—like an unshakable truth, unburdened by expectation.

You don’t know what to make of it.

You cast him a glance from the corner of your eye. He’s sitting close but not too close, his long legs stretched out before him, arms resting lazily over his knees. His usual grin is absent, replaced by something unreadable, something you cannot name.

The weight of his gaze is different now. Not teasing, not searching for amusement—but waiting.

You look away first.

Your fingers resume their slow, practiced work, weaving delicate patterns into the fabric, though your thoughts are anything but orderly.

“Why are you here?” you ask, voice softer than you intend.

A beat passes before he answers.

“Because you are.”

You swallow.

He leans back onto his hands, tilting his head toward the night sky, moonlight catching in the pale strands of his hair. It makes him look otherworldly, like a figure carved from myth—too beautiful, too untouchable.

“I’m not Helen,” you say after a moment, unsure why the words leave your lips. “You have nothing to gain from this.”

Gojo exhales, a quiet sound, but when he looks at you again, there is something almost amused in his expression—touched with something softer, something more patient.

“Do you think I speak to owls for political gain?”

You huff, trying to ignore the warmth threatening to creep up your neck. “I think you do most things for your own amusement.”

He hums, as if considering that. “You wound me.”

“I doubt that,” you mutter, eyes fixed on your work.

And yet—his fingers twitch where they rest against the stone. It’s small, barely noticeable, but your eyes catch it, and you wonder.

Does he want to reach for you?

The thought unsettles you more than it should.

He exhales again, then shifts, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees, expression thoughtful. “You know,” he muses, “I had a whole speech planned.”

You raise a brow. “Oh?”

“Something about how I was drawn to you the way sailors are drawn to sirens. That you, unlike any other, have made me question things I thought I knew.” He looks down at his knees, lips pulling in a mischievous smile. “But with you, I doubt a night of spilling sweet nothings or perhaps…other things would have swayed you.”

Your fingers still.

“But I think I’ve changed my mind,” he continues, tilting his head. “I think I’d rather just talk to you.”

You stare at him, caught somewhere between wariness and something dangerously close to wonder.

And then, before you can stop yourself, you ask, “What would you have said next?”

His lips twitch, and for the first time tonight, there is mischief in his gaze again. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You roll your eyes, but the moment has shifted, lighter now, though something unnamed still lingers beneath it.

“Keep your secrets, then,” you mutter, returning to your weaving.

“You wound me,” Gojo says again, pressing a hand to his chest as if truly affronted. “Here I am, spilling my heart, and you deny me even a scrap of sentiment.”

You let out a quiet scoff, keeping your focus on your weaving. “Perhaps if your words weren’t so dramatic, I’d be inclined to believe them.”

Gojo gasps. “Dramatic?” He leans closer, an almost boyish grin tugging at his lips. “My lady, I am nothing if not a man of sincerity.”

“Oh? So that speech about sirens wasn’t an embellishment?”

“Not at all.” He sighs, as if suffering under some great burden. “I wake in the morning thinking of you, I lay my head at night wondering if you’ve thought of me at all. It’s agony, truly.”

You roll your eyes, but your lips betray you, twitching into something dangerously close to a smile. “That sounds more like a malady than love.”

“Ah, but love is a sickness, is it not?” He exhales dramatically. “And you, my lady, have made a very ill man of me.”

Despite yourself, a laugh escapes—light, unguarded, like something slipping past your defenses before you can catch it.

And then—silence.

You glance at him, and find him already watching you.

His usual mischief is gone, replaced by something softer, something wholly unprepared. His breath is caught somewhere between his ribs, his lips slightly parted as if the sight of your laughter has stolen the air from him.

And then—

A blush, unmistakable even in the moonlight.

Your heart stutters.

Oh.

For the first time, you allow yourself to study him properly. The sharp angles of his jaw, the elegant bridge of his nose, the vivid eyes that hold yours so intently.

He is very handsome.

The thought settles somewhere unexpected, like an admission you’ve been avoiding.

Before you can dwell on it, something light catches against your shoulder—a drifting leaf, caught in the folds of your garment.

Gojo moves before you can react.

His fingers brush against the fabric near your collarbone, and then linger, featherlight and warm, as he pulls the leaf free. The moment stretches—longer than it should, charged with something unspeakable.

You feel his breath before you see him move, close enough now that the space between you is barely a whisper.

His hand, now free of its task, hesitates—before it trails downward, catching yours in his grasp.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to fill the moment with jest. His thumb traces the back of your hand, slow and absentminded, as if memorizing the shape of you.

Your own breath falters.

His breath is warm in the cool night air, his proximity setting something taut beneath your ribs. You are no stranger to flirtation, nor to men who think they can win you with pretty words, but Gojo—Gojo is different.

Perhaps it’s the way he looks at you now, his usual mischief tempered by something quieter. Or perhaps it’s the fact that, despite his arrogance, despite his clever tongue and tireless persistence, he does not presume to take.

He waits.

A dangerous thing, because it gives you time to notice the way his fingers twitch slightly against the fabric of your sleeve, the way his lips part as if tasting the words before speaking them.

“You’re staring,” he murmurs, tilting his head.

You arch a brow, feigning indifference despite the heat pooling low in your stomach. “Am I?”

His lips curve. “Should I be flattered?”

You hum, as if considering it. “I’m only making observations.”

“Oh?” He steps just a fraction closer, his voice dipping. “And what have you observed, my lady?”

“That you blush quite easily,” you say smoothly, pleased when the faint flush creeps further up his neck. “That despite your grand declarations, you are, in fact, a little shy.”

Gojo lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Shy? My lady, you wound me.”

“Do I?” You tilt your chin up slightly, your voice softer now, your hand still in his.

His gaze flickers to your lips.

Your breath catches, just for a moment.

And then—

His hand moves, fingers brushing along the curve of your jaw before settling at the nape of your neck, his touch deliberate, careful. A question, waiting for an answer.

You don’t grant him words—only the tilt of your head, the briefest lean forward.

It is all the invitation he needs.

He kisses you like a secret, like something to be savored—slow at first, testing, before he grows bolder. His other hand finds your waist, pulling you just a little closer, and warmth floods through you, seeping into your bones.

The world is silent save for the soft hitch of breath, the faint rustle of fabric as he deepens the kiss, as you allow yourself to press into him, fingers curling into the front of his tunic.

For a man who never stops talking, he is utterly wordless now. 

…

When you wake up next in the morning, it is grumpy and tired. Not only were you up late into the night, talking to and…kissing Gojo of Ithaca, or rather, Satoru (while you were drunk on each other, he had convinced you to call him Satoru), but the sound of Helen’s squealing made your head ring, putting an unbearable pressure onto them.

“Helen!” you scold her, throwing a spare pillow at her. She easily dodges while you sit up in the bed, half-heartedly rubbing your eyes to wipe the sleep from them. As she throws herself onto the foot of the bed, you notice and hear the pitter patter of rain, casting a somber gray light in your bedroom that is occasionally interrupted by Zeus’s thunder, as if the god was angered or sharing a premonition. 

Shaking off the thought, you scowl at your cousin, who’s excitedly prattling about things you still have yet to comprehend. “Slow down! Tell me, without spewing all your words at once.”

“Father gave me permission to marry!” she squealed, jumping on you and hugging you closely. She seemed happy, and you loved your cousin very much, even if you did not show it much. Pure affection permeates your countenance, as she continues. “You know I’ve always wanted to marry him, with his big arms and all. He could totally manhandle me, but you knoooww I love the ones that can whimper—”

“Oh my god,” you groan, covering your ears as if scandalized (you’ve said much worse to her), but you grin regardless. “Who is the man that you have chosen?”

“Well,” she laughs, flipping her hair off her shoulder, “Gojo of Ithaca is to be my husband, of course.”

Your heart drops to your stomach.

What she says next seems to blur together, not registering because you are shocked, your world almost tilted.

Gojo of Ithaca is to be my husband, of course.

It is then you realize belatedly that Helen seems to be calling out to you, and what you notice the most out of anything on her face is the soft smile she has on her face. One that shows that she is fond of Satoru Gojo, that she has affection for him. And who are you—the girl whose father doesn’t wish for her to marry, one that isn’t to be promised—take that away from Helen, from him?

Gojo has made it clear that he is not here for Helen—but wouldn’t it be better for him and his kingdom (which you discovered last night that he cares so dearly for) for him to marry Helen? A beautiful queen and a wise king. 

What a match.

You swallow, throat suddenly dry, but you manage a smile—strained, weak, but a smile nonetheless.

“Helen,” you begin, voice steady despite the storm brewing inside you, “are you certain?”

“Of course!” she beams, oblivious to the way your fingers tighten in the fabric of your bedding. “Father said Gojo has yet to ask officially, but he will, I know it. And why wouldn’t he? A match like this—it’s fate.”

Fate.

What cruel irony.

You remember last night—Gojo’s hands warm against your skin, his laughter pressed against your lips, the way he had murmured your name like a vow.

And yet—

You look at Helen, golden and radiant even in the gray morning light, her eyes alight with genuine happiness. You love her, truly, and have since childhood. She has always had her pick of men, but there was something softer in the way she spoke of Satoru just now.

The soft smile, the dreamy lilt to her voice.

She wants this.

And what of you?

Your chest aches, but you laugh, the sound lighter than it should be. “You sound quite taken with him.”

“I am,” she beams, watching you. “He’s gorgeous! Charming, too. He told me last night that he thinks my eyes are like the sea at sunrise.”

Your stomach twists and it seems that the panic overwhelms you because all you can manage to do is swallow and nod. “Well,” you look at her with a tight smile, “I congratulate you. Let us discuss this matter further over breakfast.” She smiles and squeezes your upper arm in a goodbye, and the touch of it burns.

You don’t ever make it to breakfast that day.

…

It continues raining that day, and it’s quite appropriate for how you’re feeling. The feeling of melancholy permeates the air around you as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Usually, you occupy your time by reading or, more likely, weaving, but you couldn’t muster the energy to find interest in that either.

Over a man. What a shame.

You were not one to lie idle—you were constantly praised as a princess wise beyond her years, and it would be wise, in this situation, to move on. Because the man you had grown feelings for is now engaged to your cousin, or, at least, your cousin intends to be engaged with him. And it would be wiser to let it happen, for Helen’s happiness was your happiness.

Sighing, you stuff your face into your pillow and groan, muffled by the linen fabric of your seats. You then decide grudgingly that if you’re not going to leave your room at all, it may be best to shed yourself of your clothing and lay comfortably in your loincloth and mamillare.

But right as you put your hand on your clothing to strip yourself, you hear a noise. 

The sound comes again—a sharp, rhythmic tap-tap-tap, just barely audible over the rain. You freeze, fingers still curled around the fabric of your chiton, half-peeled from your shoulder. At first, you think it might be a stray branch scraping against the stone, wind-tossed by the storm. But then it happens again—more deliberate this time, insistent.

Then, looking at the new objects strewn across your balcony, you realize it’s not branches—it’s pebbles.

You scowl, tying your garments hastily before moving toward the balcony. The rain is gentler now, more mist than storm, clinging to the stone and silvering the world beyond. You grip the railing and peer down—

And there he is.

Satoru.

Drenched from head to toe, hair plastered to his forehead, a frown curving his lips as he concentrates on where he’s going to throw his pebble next. His stance seems urgent, but you’re so caught up on the fact that he’s here, as if he isn’t supposed to be engaged to Helen or be subjected to whatever congratulatory round of alcohol men bestowed upon each other after securing the most beautiful woman alive.

Your heart stutters.

You pull back immediately, breath catching in your throat. You shouldn’t have come to the balcony. You shouldn’t be looking at him, shouldn’t be thinking about this morning when Helen’s voice still lingers in your ears—Gojo of Ithaca is to be my husband, of course.

The pebble strikes the stone beside you.

“I know you’re up there,” Gojo calls, tone indecipherable. “Are you really going to ignore me? After all we’ve been through?”

You swallow and your voice trembles when you say, “Go away.”

His resulting laughter sounds betrayed, hurt. “You don’t mean that.”

“Satoru,” and you don’t know if it’s a plea or a warning. His head tilts, an anguished look on his face as he closes his eyes and sighs.

“You wound me,” he huffs out a pained laugh, “After all, I run the risk of sickness just to see you and tell you that you believe wrong.”

Something is created in you, then. Something dangerous like hope. “What?”

But instead of answering, Gojo crouches, then, in one smooth motion, leaps up, catching the edge of the balcony with ease. You barely have time to react before he’s pulling himself over the railing, stepping onto solid ground with practiced grace.

You stumble back, eyes wide. “I told you not to come up.”

“And when have I ever listened?”

There’s something in the way he looks at you then—an intensity you aren’t prepared for. The air between you is charged, thick with something unspoken, something far too dangerous to name.

He takes a step forward. “I thought you were smarter than this.”

You blink, startled. “Excuse me?”

Gojo exhales, running a hand through his damp hair. “Why would you ever think it would be Helen?”

Your stomach lurches. “She said—”

“She assumed,” he corrects, cutting you off. “But I did not accept her. And you let her do that.” His voice drops lower, softer, a stark contrast to the teasing lilt he so often wields. “Do you truly think so little of me?”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Because if you do, it will come spilling out—the hope you tried to bury, the ache that settled in your chest the moment Helen uttered those words.

He moves closer, and you don’t stop him.

“Princess,” you can see his ivory lashes with how close he is, his face covered in raindrops, “for how wise you are, you seem to not have caught on. What animal is the emblem of Athena?”

Blinking, you’re taken aback by the sudden quizzing. “Owl, what about it—”

Oh.

He sees the realization dawn over your face, and now his tense expression melts into a bittersweet smile. “The goddess of wisdom has been my companion ever since I was a child, helping me attain whatever I needed the most. Whether it be to gain the knowledge one must have to be worthy of being king, or,” he inhales sharply, vibrant eyes scanning over your face vulnerably, “to gain the power to be able to make the wisest, wittiest, funniest, and most beautiful girl I’ve ever known my queen.

“After all, I have my wit—add a little of godlike power, and even I could defeat your father. Respectfully,” he adds quickly. He looks anxious you realize, as if he is about to make a risky move, a big ask. Something he’s been anxious to ask, but scared to. His eyes are still scanning you and his hands twitch at his side as he says, “I hesitate to make this decision, to ask you still after knowing the true nature of my desire for you—”

“Ask me what?”

His eyes are fixed on you, and you think that both of your hearts are beating very, very fast at the moment. “What do you think, princess?”

The silence that falls is loaded, heavy, and laden with hesitation. It’s as if a vice has caged its way through your heart, squeezing and squeezing until all the things you’ve left unsaid threaten to spill out. Things like I don’t want you to marry my cousin. Or yet, even worse, I want you to marry me. “I would not want to throw out my guesses, Satoru,” you instead opt to say, voice soft. “Things like this must be said directly, to not leave any confusion or misunderstandings.”

His jaw tightens, his breath coming harder as he stares at you, something raw and dangerous flickering in his eyes. “I agree. These things should never be left unsaid.” His voice is low, almost seething, but not with anger—no, this is something else entirely, something desperate. “I love you.” The words are unshakable, like a vow. “And I refuse to sit here and pretend my thoughts of you are anything less than ruinous. I dream of you in ways no other man is allowed to, ways that would send me to Hades with a smile on my lips. You have bewitched my soul, stolen the breath from my body, and most dangerously—you have claimed my mind.” His voice drops, softer now, but no less intense. “I do not know how to make you believe me, only that I would sooner challenge the gods themselves than let you slip through my fingers. The world could promise me tens of Helen, but there is only one woman I would ever choose.” His hand finds yours, fingers tightening, as his next words fall like an oath.

“You.”

Your breath stutters, throat tightening as his fingers tighten over yours. His touch is searing, as if the gods themselves have set him aflame, and yet you cannot pull away—you do not want to pull away.

“Satoru—” His name slips from your lips like a prayer, and he swears under his breath, his free hand coming up to cradle your jaw, thumb pressing just below your lips, as if he is fighting the urge to kiss you.

“I would tear down Olympus itself if it meant keeping you,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your cheek. “I would make war with the gods, call upon Athena to guide my spear, and spill the blood of any man foolish enough to think they could take you from me.” His voice is rough, almost a growl, and you swear your knees would give way if not for the way he holds you now, as though letting go would be his ruin.

It is reckless, to let yourself lean into him, to let your fingers curl into the fabric of his damp chiton as though you could anchor yourself to him. But he is an anchor—pulling you into something deep, something dangerous, something you know you will not escape from unscathed.

His nose brushes yours, his lips so close that you feel his every breath, his every hesitation. But you see the war in his eyes, the battle between restraint and desire, and for once, you decide to let yourself be selfish.

So you whisper, “Then prove it.”

And that is all it  takes for him to break.

His lips crash against yours, urgent and claiming, as if to kiss you any softer would be to deny himself the air he breathes. He groans as your hands tangle in his hair, your body pressing flush against his, his own hands no longer gentle but gripping, desperate, possessive. His teeth graze your bottom lip before he deepens the kiss, one hand trailing lower, pressing against the curve of your waist, then lower still—

Thunder crackles, as you gasp out his name. He pulls you both apart, looking anguished as if he’s fighting the urge to keep touching you, to make you moan out his name. Realizing this, you grab his hands and put them on yourself. “My love,” you say, tenderly, and you see how his pupils dilate in response, “you may touch me—”

“Are you sure? For if you say that, I may not be able to stop myself from indulging. Because I will take and take, until you can give me no more.” The way he says it, uncharacteristically serious and brows furrowed, makes you heat up even more, dizzy with lust and your pent up longing for the man.

But your response stays the same, paired with a firm nod. “I am sur—mmmph.”

He smothers you with his lips before you can finish, cupping your jaw until his hands start to move downwards. They move, tracing the planes of your body, and they are relentless in their exploration—they grab you possessively, pushing you closer and closer to him until his hands are below your thighs. Satoru maneuvers you until your legs are straddling his waist so that he can pick you up and carry you to your bed.

After he throws you down like carrying you poses to him as much of a challenge as carrying a light potato sack, he admires you—-thighs clenched, hair splayed around your head like a halo. The skirt of your clothes has inched its way up, exposing your thighs. “Gods, you don’t know what you do to me.”

But instead of playing the innocent maiden, you look at him through your lashes, laughing. “Satoru, time is of the essence. Flattery will get you nowhere—you must show it through your actions.”

You didn’t know what saying his name—and prompting him like that—does to him. He meets your lips in a furious kiss once again, this time hand sneaking up your skirt. He meets the fabric of your loincloth, hooking at its sides and pulling them downwards and downwards, until it is hooked off your ankle (not before Satoru leaves it a trailing kiss there, of course. It is only until Satoru’s eyes hone in what’s in the middle of legs that you realize that you are bare to him. “Satoru, I—”

“I must do something,” he instead responds, and you look at him in confusion. He’s moving down your body as you ask him what he means and if something’s wrong.

You’re interrupted by your gasp as his mouth descends on you, leaving hot, openmouthed kisses directly on your core. His tongue delves inside your lower lips, pleasing the nerves and leaving them singing. He undoes you, leaving your legs feeling like jelly, and the fervor he does it with is nauseating—as if your nectar is ambrosia itself. 

Soon enough, with his reverent worship—and a finger or two added to stretch you out and make you emit embarrassing noises that only encourage him further—you come with a cry of his name. As you roll your hips, riding out your climax, his mouth and head follow and trail your hips, unrelenting in pleasuring you even though you’re overstimulated and left quivering. 

“I—” you blurted, trying to fill the silence after he had just made you taste colors. “I hate you.”

Satoru faux pouts, biting back a grin. “Rude thing to say when I just made you—”

“Don’t finish that!” you shriek, swatting his head lightly as he laughs, kissing his way back up your body. In a tone more shy than you’d like, you say in a small voice, “But I hope we’re not done yet?”

Satoru’s made his way up to your clothed breasts, kissing them tenderly. However, when he hears the question, he stills, looks at you with wide eyes, and he groans, as if surprised by your forwardness. “Princess, the things you do to me.”

He kneads your ass while he stands up, orienting himself into a position to do—that. A voice in the back of your head reminds you that you’re not supposed to be doing this before you get married, but your lust is too strong. And, after all, you trust that there’s no way Satoru wouldn’t marry you.

You feel a slight pressure in your nether regions, and you realize that it is Satoru’s cock. His eyes are on you, blown out with lust, as he continues to stroke the length of it while observing your every reaction. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.”

With your confirmation, his eyes next left your face as he pushed in, moving slowly and gently. He gauged your features for any signs of discomfort or pain as he moved in shallow thrusts, gradually increasing their length. You gasped, his murmurs and sweet nothings coaxing out your whimpers and whines as he bumped a spot inside of you. As he did, fireworks erupted in the back of your mind, leaving you boneless as he got you closer and closer to your climax once again.

For someone who didn’t experience carnal desires often, you wonder how you’ve gone without this kind of pleasure for so long. Satoru made you feel worshipped, tracing kisses with a love that was almost pious. It doesn’t take you long after that to come once more, thrashing in his grip.

Your climax sheathed on his cock unlocks something in him, for he begins to thrust harder and faster, becoming sloppier and sloppier. His voice is by your ear, whining your name continuously. When he finally feels himself climb over and finally orgasm, he breathes out an “Ah,” and thrusts himself to completely bottom out while his come fills you up, pooling inside of you.

You both stay interlocked for gods know how long. Until Satoru pipes up, voice still unstable and panting, “By the way, it went unsaid, but I’m going to marry you. And you can’t say no.”

Your resulting giggle makes him break out in a big smile before he hugs you, wrestling you both to lie side by side in bed.

…

It goes without saying, but it all goes smoothly according to plan.

When Satoru had played with petteia with you, he had aimed to show Athena your wit. It is no small claim to defeat him, a king associated with Athena, in the game. The following events further made Athena approve of you and give her blessing. 

So Gojo was already ten steps ahead when he asked your father for your blessing. Your father was furious, of course—he did not want to let you go. After much cajoling and agreement to beat your father, a champion runner, in a race to attain your hand, Satoru wiped his brow. The way your father loved you would be scary to him if he didn’t love you as intensely as he did now. 

And of course Satoru won. Athena got her fellow Olympian, Hermes, to rent out his infamous speed. When he wins, Sparta is in an uproar, including your cousin.

“So, how is he?” Helen asks mischievously. You later found out that day that Helen’s words of marrying Gojo had a purpose—to push you both towards each other, once and for all. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you turn away, with a hmph. Crossing your arms, you pretend to roll your eyes at the knowing look she had.

“I don’t know, cousin,” she giggles, “I heard a couple of voices in your room when I tried to visit you a few nights back. Tell me, does he whimper—-”

“Helen!” 

The day you marry, donning beautiful and regal clothes, Gojo sneaks you away multiple times to kiss you under your veil when no one is looking.

His wedding gift is built by him—on the voyage back to Ithaca, he not only takes you away from Sparta, but the olive tree that you both had met at. He builds the shared marital bed out of the olive tree for his queen with his blood and sweat. It is a symbol of your love, everlasting, and you would daresay that it is the most precious gift anyone has ever given you.

What you give him in return is one fat and giggly baby. Your father grumbles that the child looks too much like his father, but the way he holds the babe—so carefully, so gently—betrays his affection. Helen coos at her little nephew, amused at how utterly soft Satoru has become, how the once-cocky king now spends his days doting on both you and your child, as if he has won the world itself.

And perhaps he has.

After all, Satoru has always been a man of ambition. A man who would scheme, fight, and even defy the gods for what he desires. And yet, as he holds your child in one arm and you in the other, murmuring teasing words against your ear before stealing another kiss, you realize something—

He had never needed Athena’s wisdom, Hermes’ speed, or any other divine favor to win you.

Because you had already been his, just as he had always been yours.

general masterlist

a/n thank u to my very supportive bestie @purplegemadventures i love all ur ideas ml <3 anyways like always all my beta readers are the goats thank you for reading my incomprehensible ideas. it's 5am and there's a mosquito that's hovering near me and im not totally happy w how this turned out but it was fun writing it kjenkjne. i may write more greek mythology aus but i need to lock in on my series....

ppl who asked to be tagged: @heh123321 @melotter

thank you for reading! reblog and comment to let me know ur thots <3

Ember Tears

~ A Halloween Story

Fyodor x gn!reader

My Navigation is here.

Synopsis: a rainy autumn night and a demon with an unquenchable thirst.

This is the last piece for my Autumn Festival 2022.

Warnings: yandere!Fyodor (incl. yandere themes), what is Fedya without some god complex? vampire!Fyodor, vampire!reader

Note: I had a lot of fun writing all of these, I hope you enjoyed them 💕

Wordcount: 800+

Keep reading

Fyodor Dostoevsky - nsfw alphabet

warnings: nsfw content, sadism, breeding kink, corruption kink, dom/sub dynamics, cockwarming and more (Fyodor is kind of his own warning)

A - Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Honestly, he's not too attentive, although you can expect him to run you a hot bath if the both of you were particularly messy. Bathing together is an activity he actually enjoys - it's relaxing and intimate in the best way, so you can expect that to happen quite a lot. If he's in a good mood, he might place an arm around your shoulders or spoon you in bed, one leg between yours. He won't cuddle you for long, though - he's unable to fall asleep like that.

B - Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He's got an odd obsession with your hips, even though you probably won't ever realise it. Especially, but not exclusively, if you've got relatively wide hips - he loves them. During sex, he pays special attention to your lower body; sucking hickeys and bruises into the soft skin of your inner thighs, biting at them until there's a hint of blood shining through. Also, as long as the position allows, his hands are almost always on your hips while he's thrusting into you. His adoration with your hips most likely ties into his breeding kink - you don't even have to be able to bear children for him to enjoy the thought of breeding you and filling you up. Still, since he first heard of childbearing hips and of wide pelvic bones aiding birth, the thought has never left him. He doesn't really care about his own body, but if he had to pick a physical part of himself, he'd choose his hands. He likes the way he's able to make you squirm and cry out just by spreading you open on two or three of his lithe but long fingers, that are easily able to rub against that one spot inside of you that your own hands can barely reach.

C - Cum (anything to do with cum)

He cums inside of you almost all of the time. Despite never outright admitting it, Fyodor wants to fill you up and breed you until you're dripping with his cum, white trails running down your inner thighs. You can expect him to catch the excess semen with his fingers and either shove it back into your, at this point messy-looking, hole, or for him to lift his hand to your lips and have you lick it up until the digits are clean again. Even though he usually doesn't like using sex toys that are meant to penetrate, he doesn't mind getting a pretty plug made of glass to keep his cum inside of you - he doesn't want you dripping all over the place, after all.

D - Dirty Secret

Despite not liking to share his property - yes, that includes you -, he has fantasised about letting either his subordinates or his close acquaintances, such as Nikolai and Sigma, have their way with you. It depends on how you think about this, though - not because he cares particularly much for your consent, you obey his every order anyway, but because he wants this to be a possible punishment for you, with you begging him not to make you do this, tears in your eyes and your mascara smearing down your flushed cheeks as hands - hands that aren't his - grab at your thighs. This, however, doesn't have the desired effect if you actually think of someone like Nikolai as attractive; it's supposed to be a punishment, not a reward. But, of course, he's got a solution for this case, too - he just orders someone as vile as Pushkin to take Nikolai's place in this, frankly saying that getting to fuck you is a reward for how well he had done on that one mission. Or rather, he would say that - it's only a fantasy, after all. One he enjoys thinking about, definitely, but a fantasy nonetheless. While not being possessive per se, Fyodor still doesn't like sharing.

E - Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's not too experienced, but not a virgin either. Because of his status as a wanted criminal, he barely trusts anyone enough to get physically intimate with them. Still, he has had sex before in his life, most likely as a way to establish dominance over someone who refused to immediately submit to him. A situation like that had never repeated itself, but it turned out that sex was a good way to show a bratty subordinate that their place was kneeling at his feet.

F - Favourite Position

Fyodor doesn't mind 'boring' positions such as missionary - they do the job just fine. He's got a good angle to fuck into you, is able to effortlessly see your pleasure-contorted face as he suddenly picks up the pace and can keep a firm grip on your hips. Another favourite of his has to be the mating press; similar to missionary, but with a little added spice. He enjoys the way you're basically folded in half, unable to move or do as much as squirm when his whole weight is on you, your knees almost brushing your own shoulders while he pushes your legs down further and further until you're whining for him to stop. He's able to thrust so deep into you like this too; the head of his cock nudging against your cervix every time he pushes in, causing you to become a mewling and properly fucked out mess beneath him. When he doesn't feel like doing much, he enjoys having you on his lap, either riding him or grinding against his thigh. Don't be fooled, though - while you're basically on top in that position, he still holds all the power. You're following his rhythm, his speed, and he won't hesitate to put you in your place if you even so much as think about disobeying him, whether it is by moving your hips faster than his guidance allows or by completely stopping, your thighs trembling with exhaustion as you collapse against him.

G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.?) 

He's definitely not goofy, though he's not all stern and serious either. He's simply amused by most things you do, whether it's your enthusiasm, your desperation, your submission or your bratty attitude - it doesn't matter what exactly it is, but he always finds something to tease and degrade you about. His lips then quirk into a barely concealed smirk, his voice a teasing lilt as his gaze roams over your trembling body, “You're so eager today. It's almost embarrassing to watch. I bet that, if I gave you the chance, you'd already be drooling all over my cock right now. Too bad you haven't earned that yet, hm?”

H - Hair (how well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He's not completely shaved but, usually, neatly trimmed. Occasionally, he might forget to trim the hair - he's not a complete neat-freak, though he prefers it short and proper. Otherwise, the carpet matches the drapes.

I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect?)

If we're being honest, we all know he's not the romantic type. His attitude towards you during sex definitely differs; while he can be cruel and cold, his gaze full of disdain while he stares down as your needy and writhing form, he's also easily amused by how desperate you get. The days on which he's genuinely entertained are usually when he's a little softer with you, though he can, of course, easily switch to a more sadistic side in the matter of seconds, so don't test him. Romantic intimate times with Fyodor are rare, though he's quite romantic on your wedding night - cradling your face in his hands while he's thrusting into you in missionary position, peppering the expanse of your throat with soft kisses that aren't meant to mark but to please while he's murmuring soft praise and compliments into your ears, telling you how good you are for him, how pretty, with his thick accent shining through more than usually.

J - Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

Fyodor isn't opposed to getting himself off, though he doesn't see why he should resort to masturbating if you're available. He's sure you'd easily fall to your knees to suck him off if only he said a word, no matter if it's a harsh order or a soft, sugar-coated offer. If he does end up jerking off, it's usually in his swivel chair in front of his many computer screens, his head tipped back as he presses his lips together into a fine line. He's methodical, almost clinical, in the way he's doing it; his hand stroking up and down his own cock, following some rhythm, and eventually forming a fist for him to thrust into until he's cumming. Still, he prefers to simply call you over to use your mouth, cunt or even just your hand. What he does like, though, is having you rest on your knees between his legs, your arms obediently crossed behind your back as you stare up at him, all wide doe eyes while he gets himself off. He doesn't bother putting on some sort of show - he knows you think of him as breathtaking anyway -, he simply strokes himself until he reaches his orgasm and spills onto your face, his cum hitting your cheek and nose bridge, some catching in your hair or on your lashes and lips and some dripping down onto your tits. While Fyodor doesn't enjoy how messy cumming onto you is, he certainly loves the possessive aspect of it. You, covered in his semen, just does something to him. Besides, the fact that you not only allow, but welcome it when he messes you up like this is really hot to him, too.

K - Kink (one or more of their kinks)

It's not surprising that he's got many kinks; some pretty extreme ones at that. One of his most prominent ones is his breeding kink as already mentioned before; it's rare for Fyodor to not cum inside of you, the head of his cock nudging against your cervix and his hands firmly grabbing your hips to keep you from squirming away. He just wants to see your hole dripping with his semen, some even dropping down your inner thighs, and he doesn't mind going multiple rounds to achieve that goal. If you're unble to get children - that's quite convenient for you, though it doesn't deter Fyodor from folding you into a mating press every time he gets the urge to knock you up. If you're able to bear children, though - well, prepare for a round stomach and swollen, sensitive tits for the next nine months, because there is no way in hell Fyodor wears condoms or wants allows you to take birth control. Sorry.

Another very prominent one is his corruption kink; the thought alone of you, his angel - so pure and naive and innocent - getting corrupted by someone like him, who was literal blood on their hands, just gets him hard in only a few moments. Therefore, he also loves it when you wear white lingerie or, well, just about anything in white - a white coat, white heels, a white skirt, anything. The colour is simply perfect to underline your purity - your purity that he can quickly ruin through turning you into a desperate and begging mess, a needy and mewling slut that would even get off through grinding against his boot if only he gave the order.

Fyodor also enjoys getting worshipped by you. While he usually takes the dominant and active role, he also occasionally feels lazy, and sitting on some comfortable plush chair with you between his legs, sucking his cock and nuzzling your cheek against his thigh just sounds like too good of an opportunity to pass by. He likes it when you truly take your time to appreciate all of him, pressing soft kisses of gratitude and respect to his palms, to his collar bones, to his boots while forcing yourself to ignore your own arousal, because it is a privilege to be this intimate with him after all, and don't you dare forget it.

There's too many kinks to name and go into detail with all of them, but here's some more for you to get the general gist of what turns him on: Dacryphilia (you, crying and sobbing all prettily), general sadism (he just wants you to wail in pain while he's spanking using a belt, and, well, with how pretty you look whining, can you blame him?), degradation (it's not his fault if he calls you a pathetic bitch while you're drooling all over his dick, now is it?), receiving oral (doesn't matter if you're gagging on his cock, his fingers or some sort of toy - he loves it), pet play, but only kind of (it's less about you wearing cat ears or meowing at his command - though he wouldn't mind that, either -; it's more about seeing how far he can push your obedience and submission with new humiliating rules, like forbidding you to sit on furniture and instead making you kneel on the floor, making you eat out of a bowl or through getting hand-fed by him and forbidding you to speak without his permission.)

L - Location (favourite places to do the do)

He's quite traditional, which is why he usually prefers actual sex to happen on the bed. He's also fond of you sucking him off or sitting on his cock at his workplace, your legs trembling as you're positioned on his lap, trying your best not to disturb him with your subtle squirming while he's typing some codes into his computer, which you can't even begin to comprehend the meanings of. Another favourite location of his is the kitchen, with him either bending you over the dinner table or just the kitchen counter - he likes the domestic aspect of it. While you're preparing dinner for him, perhaps even wearing a cute looking apron, and overall being a good little housewife, he comes up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and cold lips placing kisses on your neck and throat. Only a moment later, he either has you bent over the counter - your chest pressed against the surface and your back arching as he stays standing behind you, his cock resting against your slightly raised ass before he thrusts into you - or positioned on the dinner table - your thighs spread wide and, soon enough, wrapped around his waist as he pushes first two, then three slender fingers into your dripping hole, stretching you open for his dick.

M - Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going?)

Seeing you behave in a vulnerable or submissive way arouses him, even if you're simply scared of something and cling to his side in response. It makes him feel like you depend on him, which certainly adds to his already huge ego and god complex, and in those situations he wants to do nothing but bend you over the nearest surface. He also loves seeing you clothed in white, especially if it's lingerie you're wearing - he occasionally compares you to an angel, if only to enjoy the stark difference between the two of you, demon Fyodor and his angelic and pure lover who he can ruin and defile. You wearing white certainly appeals to his corruption kink.

N - No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

This one is quite obvious, but Fyodor is not going to be submissive or on the bottom, ever. Sex, for him, is mainly about a certain power imbalance; one to his advantage, of course. He likes being in control and relishes in the way you squirm and whimper because of him teasing you for hours, he enjoys seeing his cock spread your wet and slutty hole open, he loves having you kneel at his feet to beg for your orgasm, and if he can't have all of that, what even is there to enjoy about sex? Still, it's not like he hasn't entertained the thought of giving up control at least once. He's sure it can be quite freeing to have someone else make all decisions, but it's just not appealing to him personally.

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Fyodor won't ever be on the giving end here, that's simply the truth. He greatly enjoys receiving oral though, whether it's you kneeling beneath his desk, simply keeping his dick in your mouth while he's working, or him forcing his cock down your throat. If you're experienced and can take all of him - great! If you're not - well, he's in a bit of a dilemma here, because while he'd like you to be able to deepthroat him, he also loves the way you gag and sputter around his cock, drool and tears running down your face as you look up at him pleadingly. He might settle on training you only so much that you don't immediately try to pull off, but still have enough of a gag reflex to choke and cry around his cock. To help you get used to the feeling of having something in your mouth, he usually uses his fingers - he pushes them in between your lips, feeling around your mouth with them and meanly pressing down on your tongue until you gag, his nails scraping against the top of your mouth. Still, he's not pulling out, his other hand firmly holding your jaw in place while you drool over lithe fingers that, eventually, push down into your throat and nudge against the back of it until you learn to control the urge to throw up. He doesn't mind if you're a slow learner - the longer you take, the more often he gets to watch you gag on his fingers. And while you're whining around the digits, he's smiling, amused at how pathetic you look. Still, he claims he's only doing this to help you.

P - Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

His pace depends on the mood, but he's usually rather slow. He enjoys taking his time with you to be able to fully watch you unravel beneath him, to relish in your moans and whimpers. Another reason for his usually slow pace is that he loves teasing you, especially when you're prone to crying easily - he wants you to beg him to hurry up, to be more rough with you, but you're in tough luck, because if you're not actually sobbing and pleading, he doesn't even think about indulging you.

Q - Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Fyodor definitely prefers proper sex over quickies, though he's not entirely opposed to them, either. The main problem he has with quickies is the thought of someone else possibly catching a glimpse of your naked body - it's unlikely to actually happen, but he doesn't want you to ever look indecent in public, whether it'd be you lifting your skirt or unbuttoning your blouse to grant him easy access. However, he has no problem with quickly putting you back in your place if you'd ever forget it - if you're being sassy with him just because you think you're invulnerable in public, be prepared to follow him into the closest corner to suck him off as an apology.

R - Risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.?)

He doesn't mind the occasional risk, as long as no one else gets to see your bare body. If he has you ride him in public, there's his cape draped over your shoulders, hiding all revealed skin from view, even though it's still obvious to everyone what exactly it is you two are doing. Otherwise, he doesn't mind trying new things out - there have been times where he has secretly mixed aphrodisiacs into your food, causing you to be all needy, or where he had you suck him off in a hallway, his cock completely down his throat so even if someone walked past, they wouldn't be able to see any private part of his. All risks are carefully calculated by him anyway - there's never a true risk, never a true element of surprise, at least for him. For you, however - well, you might be a little taken aback when he not so discreetly orders you to get onto your knees beneath the table during a DoA meeting to warm his cock.

S - Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)

How many rounds he can go for absolutely depends on which position you're in. If he's on top of you, one round is usually the maximum. He's simply easily physically exhausted. However, if you're riding him or sucking him off, his stamina certainly allows for at least a second round. And if, for some reason, he ever reaches his orgasm before you reach yours, he might just pull out and make you cum on long, slender fingers instead of continuing to fuck you.

T - Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't own anything like dildos, he definitely prefers to pleasure you himself. Some rope or handcuffs to restrain you, however, are not unwelcome in his bed, and he doesn't mind using a vibrator either. When he's in a teasing mood, he'll tie you up, red rope wrapping around your wrists and around your thighs to keep them spread open with a vibrator placed directly on your clit. While you're writhing on the bed, he'll simply watch, amused - or he'll leave the room to go do something else while you're only getting more and more desperate. It's almost a little cheesy, but he likes using toys on you that are red or black in colour - the contrast to some white lingerie you're wearing is gorgeous, especially when seen in context to him tainting you and corrupting your innocence. Besides, red rope vaguely looks like blood, and he's a sadist at heart; the resemblance alone excites him.

U - Unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

He's a huge tease, although not quite as bad as Dazai. Fyodor enjoys seeing you struggle and whimper, he gets off on seeing you tug at the restraints that are keeping your thighs and wrists in place - he's a sadist through and through. It's not unusual for him to tie you up and stretch your cunt open using his fingers, making you whine and moan in pleasure as his thumb rubs over your clit, only for him to then leave you for an hour or more, dripping wet and open, clenching around nothing and whining at the sudden feeling of emptiness. As cruel as that might sound, it's just something you have to put up with. He wants you to be as desperate and needy as possible by the time he comes back and if you're not outright sobbing, tears running over your flushed cheeks, he might just go again and return half an hour later. By then, your whole body is surely trembling, your hips bucking up into the air fruitlessly as you beg him to please, please fill you up, whether it's with his cock, fingers, or even just a toy. You just need it so badly - you don't even care anymore what exactly he's going to do to you as long as you don't have to wait longer for some kind of touch - and if you plead and beg him well enough, obediently calling him 'sir' and crying all prettily, he might just indulge you.

Another favourite way of him to tease you is ordering you to get off using his thigh, preferably with his trousers still on. If you dare to object - oh, what a shame, looks like you're not going to cum at all then. You've just lost your orgasm privileges and, to make it even worse, he's going to have you sit on his cock or spread open around his fingers all day. You might even be allowed to move and buck your hips against him; he doesn't care, really, because in the end, you're only making it worse for yourself by riding him, getting so close to your orgasm, only for him to stop you right as you're about to tumble over the edge. If you're good for him and obey his order, though, he has you grind down on his thigh for at least half an hour; you being completely naked or in some cute lingerie set while he's fully dressed. The obvious power imbalance makes his own cock twitch, but he won't act on it. Instead, he simply watches you, his head tilted to the side in a playful manner as you move your hips down against his thigh, your clit rubbing against the fabric of his trousers, the friction borderline painful but also so good that it has you whining and begging for him to fuck you, your thighs glistening with your own arousal as you're drenching his pants, ruining them. The way you writhe and whimper is simply adorable and amusing to him, the way your cheeks flush as you try and reach your orgasm while not allowed to pleasure yourself any other way than using his thigh. If you've been good for him this far, he doesn't mind rewarding you with his thumb flicking over your clit or two of his fingers pushing inside of you, crooking to rub over that one spot that has you cumming instantly. Don't forget to properly thank him for letting you orgasm, though, because if you don't, he might just order you to continue grinding against him, no matter how overstimulated or exhausted you are.

V - Volume (how loud are they, what sounds do they make?)

He's rather quiet, the only sounds you'll get out of him are tiny grunts and groans while he's thrusting into you. What he lacks in noises like moans, he makes up for with dirty talk - man's got the ability to somehow sound all calm and collected, almost bored, as he's fucking you, a stark contrast to your needy moans and whimpers. Occasionally, he also just comments whatever comes to his mind while he's watching you; “Oh my, you're dripping wet already, darling. Your thighs are trembling, too. Is this too much for you, hm?” or “Look at you, so close to cumming already and I've only used my fingers to spread you open. I bet you're drooling by the time I fill you up with my cock.”

W - Wild Card (random headcanon)

Despite hiding it well, Fyodor greatly enjoys dressing you up, treating you more like a doll than his lover. It had started with him liking the way you look in delicate lingerie and had, eventually, evolved to now, where him choosing a corset, a collar or a new pair of heels for you to put on is a fun little activity to indulge in. His interest in doing this isn't solely because of your aesthetically pleasing appearance, but because he loves rendering you at least a little more helpless using clothes. The way you whimper a little when the corset he had laced just a bit too tight this morning almost cuts your breathing off when you move to sit down, the way you cling to his arm for support when your heels don't allow you to keep up with his larger steps. Still, your looks are a reason he likes doing this, too - and who can blame him, when you just look this pretty in your new set of lingerie with your lips wrapped around his cock or sitting on his lap, warming his dick like a good obedient pet, the corset hugging your waist so tightly your hole constantly clenches around him with your muscles all tense?

He's not as bad as Nikolai though, who takes great joy in dressing you up and making you put on incredibly high and arched heels in which you can barely stand, yet alone walk, only to see you stagger around with weak legs and a pained expression.

X - X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Let's be real, he's a tall and lanky guy. His dick mostly fits the rest of his body - it's of medium girth, but it's longer than average. It might be a challenge for you to take all of him because of his length; he definitely takes a certain pride in being able to make you whine and mewl just by pushing into you. The moment he's actually thrusting into you with eagerness, the head of his cock repeatedly nudges against your cervix, causing your sight to blur for a moment with how much pleasure suddenly shoots up your spine.

Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive isn't that high, even though he does enjoy it when the two of you get intimate; he's just too tired or too busy to always want to fuck you. Sex can be exhausting - exhausting enough to make it a little less appealing to him. As mentioned before, he definitely has you sit on his cock while he's working, though; your hole simply keeping his dick warm as he's focused on acquiring important information. The moment you get too impatient and start squirming on his lap, if only to get his cock to nudge against that one spot inside of you, he pushes two of his fingers between your lips, letting you suck on them to calm your mind and, occasionally, thrusting them down your throat to make you gag if you disturb him again. It's a mild punishment compared to how he usually corrects your behaviour, but he's only doing it to keep you entertained. He greatly enjoys sex like this - with him not having to do anything but have you sit on his thighs, you acting as nothing but a toy for him to use when he feels like it.

Z - ZZZ (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?)

Not too quickly. It's not unlikely that he'll get his laptop and continue to work while you're already sleeping next to him. If you're a heavy sleeper, he might even get up and dressed again and vanish into another room to work. This has nothing to do with him not appreciating the fact that you just had sex or with him being unromantic, but only with him being a practical thinker. For him, there's no logical reason to get all sentimental and clingy after being physically intimate with each other.

notes: the individual parts got a little long, I guess I'm just a Fyodor simp 😗😗

Writing Russian-speaking characters

So I have once again been chuckling at some adorable clumsy Russian in Nikolai and Nikto fics, and thus I decided to make a little list that might be helpful for fellow COD writers here. And yes, please, feel free to reach out to me if you need any proofreading of your Russian phrases, I would be glad to assist since google translator can butcher it in ways non-speakers won't be able to notice.

I would really appreciate if you guys shared this post and helped it reach people that might need it, I put way more effort into it than I expected myself <3 Also, I might make a followup with some more words and/or phrases that can be useful, so please feel free to request some, since here I am mostly focusing on terms of endearment.

I will write down Russian words, their (approximate and wonky, sorry for that) transcription/transliteration and what part of speech they are (keep in mind that adjectives can be used as nouns when used to address someone) and provide according translation and use.

Keep in mind that in Russian the gender of the word is important!!! I'll write down them in following order: he/him (он/его) version/ she/her (она/её) version/ they/them (они/их) version. However! They/them is NOT traditionally used as gender-neutral pronouns, it's plural only. Some queer and younger folks do use they/them (myself included), but it does sound wonky as it's direct copy from English. Unfortunately, Russian is not very suitable for gender-neutral writing, but there are ways to go about it (I'll try to note some of that too).

*however, since Nikto is sometimes using plural they/them to describe himself, that would be okay with him since it's plural. I hope that makes sense, lol.

So if you're putting an adjective with a noun (example: милый котик) you have to use an adjective in the correct gender form FOR THE WORD! If the noun (котик here) is masculine, you use masculine adjective form EVEN if you're referring to a person with she/her pronouns.

What is love?

The main thing I noticed is that y'all use a direct translation of the word "love" - "любовь" [l'ubov'] (n) to refer to a person. As in "how are you doing, love?". However, that's wrong. "Любовь" is either a word to describe the feeling, or a name (short version would be Люба [Lyuba]). If you wanna use an affectionate pet name, consider one of the following!

дорогой/дорогая/дорогие [dorogoy/dorogaya/dorogiye] (adj) - means "darling". Often used between spouses. Mostly used to refer to person directly, sounds a little quirky if you use it to refer to them in third person (as in "my darling went out to buy some strawberries").

любимый/любимая/любимые [l'ubimiy/l'ubimaya/l'ubimiye] (adj) - means "beloved/loved/loved one" and is probably the closest to "love". You can use it to refer to person directly or to talk about them in third person (as in "can't wait to see любимую". Also yes, the endings are changing depending on the case and I'm not entirely sure how to explain this concisely without going deep into grammar lol).

милый/милая/милые [miliy/milaya/miliye] (adj) - the word means "cute/cutie", but is also used as a general terms of endearment, like "sweetheart". Mainly to refer to someone directly, using it in third person is a little old-fashioned I'd say. Also commonly used by people outside romantic partnership, a kind old lady can definitely call you over with this one asking to help her read expiration date on a milk bottle or something.

любовь моя [l'ubov' moya] (n + adj/pronoun) - okay, I kinda tricked you saying you can't use the word "love" to refer to a person. If you say this (means "my love"), you can! It's pretty romantic and I am actually the one person that uses this daily, otherwise it's either very romance-novel/old-fashioned sounding, but there are moments when it's perfectly suitable. Have that fairytale moment! Also please note, that while "моя любовь" [moya l'ubov'] (adj/pronoun + n) is grammatically correct, it sounds kinda weird if you use it to address the person directly (like in a phrase "my love, you shine brighter than the stars"). While Russian doesn't have particularly strict rules about word order, it does matter to some extent, and this is a prime example: people just use one order way more often that the other.

Pocket-sized

I've already told somewhere here my favourite Nikto fic moment: the sweetest, romantic moment, interrupted by him calling reader "детёныш", which means "cub" as in baby animal. And while my parents do use this word affectionately, I can assure you, most people don't, and it was clear that this was a result of a clumsy translation of "baby" or something like that. So here are some variants for words like baby, little one and such!

малыш/малышка [malysh/malyshka] (n) - I'd say this feels more "little one" than "baby" to me, it's a tad less sexually charged if you get what I mean. Also, you call "малыш" a person of any gender/pronouns, while "малышка" is strictly for she/her. Obviously can be used for kids too.

детка [d'etka] (n) - this one is definitely "baby" or "babe" as a term of endearment, calling a real kid this would be WEIRD if you're not a really old granny. I would also say that it's more commonly used to refer to female partners, but that might be just my perception and experience. It's still okay to use both ways. Also this word can be very much used if you need a little bit of sleazy/catcalling/bad pickup line energy, like someone shouting after a girl passing by on the street. Yuck.

маленький/маленькая [mal'en'kiy/mal'en'kaya] (adj) - this just means "little" or "small", I'd say it's used less commonly and usually in this form "маленький мой/маленькая моя" [mal'en'kiy moy/mal'en'kaya moya] (adj + adj/pronoun). I will expand on this a little later here! Can be used to refer to kids too.

All kinds of fauna

While poor детёныш is reserved for furry freaks like yours truly, there are some animal nicknames that are very widely spread! Here are some that I think would be most useful for y'all. Granted, some people think that these are a lil' bit cringey, but I think it really just depends on what you're used to hear around you. So if I think calling someone a cub is cute, and bunny is cringe, that probably says more about me :D

котик [kot'ik] (n) - this is a term of endearment for a cat. NOT same as kitten, mind you! Mostly used to refer to men (since the word is of masculine gender) - in my experience.

котёнок [kot'onok] (second o here is like ö in German) (n) - now THIS is "kitten". I would say this is more gender-neutral than the previous one, but the word is still masculine gender.

зайка [zayka] (n) - I believe this would be an equivalent to "bunny", although it's actually a cute word for a hare, not a rabbit. Definitely used for all genders (also the word can be both masculine and feminine gender), also is okay to use referring to kids (even teachers that are into endearing nicknames can call pupils this and it's not weird. well, in elementary school). You can also say "зайчонок" [zaych'onok] (n) which is a word for baby hare, even cuter.

рыбка [ribka] (n) - a term of endearment for a fish. I think it's viewed as a bit old-fashioned and thus only used jokingly nowadays, but you know what? Nikolai could pull this off 100%. Bonus points if it's "рыбка моя" [ribka moya] (n + adj/pronoun). Only used for women and the word itself is of feminine gender.

медвежонок [medv'ezhonok] (n) - now, I actually have never met someone who would call their partner this, but I myself would (and I definitely saw it in some media, but that's obv not too reliable). It's a word for a bear cub, so I think it's cute to call a huge ass bear of a military man this word. It's of masculine gender, but I would say it's okay to call a she/her person this too. ALTHOUGH there is a grammatically incorrect (but this only adds to cuteness as it often happens) word "медвежонка" [medv'ezhonka] (n) - this would be a female bear cub. My family uses this word, I use it, no, it won't be in a dictionary, but everyone will understand what you mean. Is okay to use for kids too.

щенок [sh'enok] (if it helps, щ is like German "schtsch", like in Borschtsch, like sh but soft) (n) - now, this actually is not used as a term of endearment, it's "puppy" and it's suitable for degradation. The word is of masculine gender, but you can call anyone this to be honest. You can tell Nikto he's "глупый щенок" [glupiy sh'enok] (adj + n) (silly puppy) and that man will either bark for you or gut you. If you say "тупой" [tupoy] (adj) (dumb) instead of "глупый" [glupiy] (adj) (silly), it will be downright offensive. You can say "щеночек" [sh'enochek] (n), which is an endearing term for a puppy, so it's a little bit sweete. OR you can use my personal favourite - "щен" [sh'en] (n), which is actually also incorrect, but if you've ever heard of a great poet and poetry innovator Mayakovskiy, he was called this word by Lilya Brik. I do NOT have the time to unpack that wild relationship (there was a throuple involved. Russian poetry scene of early XX century was WILD and it's my favourite poetry period hands down), but it's pretty famous. The word "щен" consists of the word "puppy" but with the end diminutive suffix cut off. The trick is, that while some words return to their non-diminutive form with such procedure, this one does not - so you're basically inventing a new word that now sounds quite degrading and harsh, but also sexy as hell (personal opinion). I would definitely call Nikto this word.

птичка [ptich'ka] (n) - that's just "birdie", but I actually wouldn't say many people use it to refer to each other. HOWEVER, Nikolai 100% calls his steel bird this. The word is of feminine gender and if you are calling a person this, it's probably more suitable for a woman.

цыпа [tsipa??] (n) or even цыпочка [tsipoch'ka] (n) - that's a chick, like a baby hen, used only to refer to women (feminine gender word). Honestly I only heard this in foreign films dubbed in Russian or like in jokes/sarcastic phrases. It's kinda rude/indecent/vulgar and the only man that can say that and stay attractive is Captain Jack Sparrow (he used this word in Russian dubbed Pirates like once maybe, talking to Elisabeth, and that was funny cuz he be crazy like that). But maybe you want this, idk.

And everything sweet

Unfortunately, I haven't seen anyone translate the word "honey" as "мёд" directly, that would be another brilliant laugh (cuz it's wrong to refer to a person like that), but there are some "sweet" words to use!

сладкий/сладкая [sladk'iy/sladkaya] (adj) - this just means "sweet", like the taste, and it can be sexy or sleazy or just cute. You can call a kid this word too, BUT for a child would be better сладенький/сладенькая [slad'en'kiy/slad'en'kaya], which is like one step further into diminutive-endearing department.

конфетка [konf'etka] (n) - this is a diminutive word for a candy, a sweet, like a caramel or chocolate or whatever. Not very common, but is cute. Also a way to describe a sexy/good-looking person (more likely a woman, the word is of feminine gender) or just something really good (a bit jokingly). The latter is usually used in a phrase build like "не ..., а просто конфетка", which is roughly translated "that's not ... that's just plain candy". Might have an actual English equivalent that I can't think of right now. Maybe "a total snack"? Probably that one, yeah. Can be said about anything, a car for example.

Shiny

I wanna stick in a few more words of endearment and they all are kinda shiny, lol, so here you go!

солнце [solntse] (n) - this means "sun", like that big glowing thingy in the sky, but it's very welcome as a term of endearment. This word is NEUTER gender (explained in the next section). Viktor Tsoy (a famous rock musician with an unfortunate fate and immortal cultural heritage) had a song ("Cuckoo" - "Кукушка") with the words "солнце моё, взгляни на меня" [solntse moyo, vzgl'yan'i na m'en'ya] (my sun, look at me), so "солнце моё" (n + adj/n) is a good one. You can also use "солнышко" [solnyshko] (n) which is an endearing version of "sun", so it's like "sunshine". Also of neuter gender! Can and should be used to address kids too.

золотце [zolottse] (n) - this literally means like... a little gold? A little golden piece? I don't think there's a proper equivalent in English. It's a word of neuter gender and it's very much used for kids too. Another version would be "золотой мой/золотая моя/золотые мои" [zolotoy moy/zolotaya moya/zolotiye moyi] (adj + adj/pronoun) - this is "my golden", it's a little less common and I feel like it's often used to be condescending, but it's not inherenrly bad, so you can use it for a loved one.

сокровище [sokrov'ish'e] (once again it's щ, look previously) (n) - this is a word of neuter gender and it means "treasure". I personally adore this one and it's pretty common. Can be used for any gender and for kids!

звёздочка [zv'yozdoch'ka] (n) - this is like a little star/starshine. Wouldn't say it's that common, but I use it a lot. The word itself is of feminine gender, but you can call anyone that! Or you can say "звезда моя" [zv'ezda moya] (n + adj/pronoun), which means "my star". Also feminine gender word, but can be used for anyone.

This dog belongs to...

I am not going to go too deep into sexy/sex-related words in this part, because I'll just get overwhelmed with the amount, but I want to go over some words of ownership quickly.

мой/моя/мои/моё [moy/moya/moyi/moyo] (adj/pronoun) - this means my/mine. It goes really well with many words in this list, especially the adjectives, like "мой дорогой" [moy dorogoy] (my darling) or "солнышко моё" [solnyshko moyo] (my sun/sunshine). The last version, "моё" [moyo] is neuter gender, it's NOT gender-neutral! It's the "it/its" I guess (not exactly, but let's just stick with this simplyfied explanation). Previously there were some words of that gender, so here you go. BTW I would say that in speech it's more common to put this word before adjectives and after nouns (like in my examples), just sounds better, but it's not wrong to do otherwsise. You can also just say "ты мой" [ti moy] (you're mine). Also can be used to refer in third person, like when you're discussing your man with your gossip girls, you can just go "а мой вчера..." [a moy vch'era] (and mine yesterday...) and everyone will understand that you mean your man. Unless you wee discussing pets, then they'll probably assume it's your cat.

хозяин/хозяйка [khoz'yain/khoz'yayka] (n) - saw this one too btw. This means "owner" or kiiiinda "master/mistress", and they are gendered, so it's actually wrong to call a woman "хозяин" unless there's some kinky genderfuckery going on (which I'm all for, but like. you get what I mean).

господин/госпожа [gospod'in/gospozha] (n) - okay, THAT is definitely master/mistress, also gendered. Standard BDSM terminology and yada yada.

And that's where I'd like to wrap up for today! However, if needed, I can write more - perhaps with curse words or with sex-related words, or some phrases? I dunno, you tell me! Once again, I kindly ask you to share since I think this will help people (and while I understand the struggle of writing in another language and especially using words from language you don't speak at all, I can't help but be a little thrown off every time I see a wrong use of words in text).

Also remember: while Siberia is bigger than USA or even Canada, there are still other regions in Russia that deserve to be mentioned <3 a lot of places with mindblowing nature, cultural heritage etc.

Vows Masterlist

Part 1 (nsfw)

Part 2 (sfw)

Part 3 (nsfw)

Part 4 (Final Part) (nsfw)

Oliver (prequel) (nsfw)

BSD Men - First Time Having S*x Together

Pairings: Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Atsushi, and Chuuya

❗WARNINGS❗: Smut, MDNI, praise, begging, blowjobs, hand jobs, hickeys, breeding kink, scratching, blood and people dying on Chuuya's part ( not from you or him)

🖤DAZAI🖤

It all started when you and Dazai were taking a midnight stroll around the city. The night let's people tell their deepest thoughts and you both asked some down to earth questions, only deepening your relationship.

You've never felt so sure about spending your life with someone as much as you did now.

He walks you back to your apartment and before he can leave he says "I'm happy to have you in my life, Bella. I really mean it"

He places a hand on your cheek as he stares lovingly in your eyes, you could see the stars of the night sky reflecting on them.

He looks at your lips as you both slowly lean into a gentle, passionate kiss. You both have kissed many times before, but this time it was so much more different. When your lips departed, you heard him pant slightly.

You wanted more from your bf, and kisses and hugs weren't going to be enough.

There were moments when Dazai asked to sleep with you, but you told him you'll let him know when your ready, and of course he respected that.

Tonight felt different. You felt ready.

You clench tightly on his collar as you look into his eyes with a pleading look. In a whisper, you say "I need you, Osamu.."

You placed your hand behind his neck and dragged it up to his hair, gently tugging on it to keep him closer. You heard him gulp.

"Put your hands on me...please" you say nervously

A Stunned look was shown across his face that soon turns soft. He kindly places both of his hands on your cheeks and pulls you into an aggressive kiss. One full of Passion, lust, and love.

You take him inside your apartment and into your room. While you were kissing, both moaning quietly into it, he picks you up and drops you on your bed gently.

He pulls away from the kiss "Are you sure, Bella?" He asked for reassurance

"Yes, I've never felt so sure about anything" you smile as you kiss his lips again

His hands showed eagerness yet you could feel his fingers tremble. He's never been so whipped for someone and it's almost like it's his first time. He felt so out of his element but it's never felt so right either.

It was his first time sleeping with someone he truly cares for and he doesn't want to mess it up for you.

Dazai places himself on top of you, your legs already wrapped around his waist as you unbutton his clothes, later throwing it onto the ground

You caress his body with your hands "Your so pretty, my love. You really are handsome" you say, kissing his bandaged chest and collarbone

He moans quietly, then starts to kiss your neck, making you moan. Your voice was far too much for him to handle. He was already hard for you. He takes off the rest of his clothes and your clothes away, discarding them.

He starts to kiss every inch of your body "Your so beautiful...gorgeous....breath taking...amazing... You don't realize how happy I am right now" He says against your skin

You whimper quietly "I'm happy too 'Samu. please don't stop"

His hand glides down your entire body until it reaches to your cunt. He slowly rubs your clit, making you moan and scratch his back

"Your voice...I want to hear more of it, Bella~" he then inserts two fingers inside of you, making you moan louder.

"Oh Bella~ so beautiful and wet just for me~" he speeds up his fingers.

They were far better than what your small fingers could ever do in a million years, especially since his were long and reaching places your fingers couldnt.You arch your back

You wanted to make him feel good too, so you gently start to stroke his cock. He groans from the sensation of your soft hands. You stroking his cock was way better than his own hand

" 'Samu, please. I can't wait any longer. I need you~" he swears he could've cum right after you said that.

He pulls his fingers out as you take your hand away from him. He looks into your eyes, licking his fingers clean in front of you. You were blushing badly

He smirks "Your taste is more addictive than any drug or alcohol ever created"

You gulp from his words, but suddenly held the hand he just licked clean. You connected his bandaged wrist to your lips, giving it multiple, slow kisses

"I can say the same about your body" you mumbled against his hand

He felt his heart,mind, and soul melt with desire and kissed your lips again, using the hand you kissed to pull you closer by cupping your face.

Your face felt at ease when you felt his lips, but it turns to shock when you feel the tip of his cock near your entrance. Both of your bodies were desperate for each other and couldn't wait any longer.

He looks deeply into your eyes again, before kissing you softly. Your hands move to his back and the side of his neck, while one of his hands were on your hips, and the other was busy holding himself up.

Slowly, he pushes himself inside you, making you both moan. The way he stretched you out was so amazing and the way your warm, wet walls hugged his cock was indescribable. It was better than you both ever imagined.

When His cock was fully inside, he let you adjust to his size, but you felt his body trembling from the pleasure. Placing a hand on his cheek you whisper "please move, my love"

He kisses you again as he slowly thrusts into you, both of you moaning. He closes his eyes like he's savoring the moment of the pure, blissful, pleasure.

His thrusts become faster when he felt you thrust your hips against his to feel more of him. "B-Bella~ Mnn~ y/n.. god I've never felt this good~"

You wrapped your arms around his neck "me either~ Mnn~! f-faster 'Samu~ ah~! you feel so amazing~"

With your plea and praise, he pounded into you, finally going at the pace you both wanted to go at. His whimpers and groans were only making you tighter which only made him go faster, wanting to feel more of you and this euphoric feeling.

"Your everything I've ever wanted, Osamu~ mmn~! Don't stop~"

He responds to your praise with a whimper "Your what I've been looking for- mmn~! my entire life ah~ y/n i-im gonna cum~!" He says panting

"Me too~ i-inside please- ah~! feels too good~"

With those words, he reached deeper inside of you. His cock hitting all the right places and his moans fuel your arousal.

Your twitching cunt and your words made him go over the edge as he came deep inside you with a loud whimper, holding onto you tightly. You came once you felt his hot cum shoot inside you, moaning loudly with him.

You both pant heavily while hugging each other. He lays his forehead against yours as he looks into your eyes again, chuckling softly. You chuckle back at him and kiss his lips.

After your shared kiss, he pulls himself out and rests his head on your chest, eyes closing, arms around your waist.

With a soft voice he says "I love you so much y/n. Because of you I've finally found a reason"

You turn your head to get a better look at his face "A reason for what?" You asked

He stayed silent for a few seconds, then looks at you with a tired smile "To live"

💚RANPO💚

You were with your cute boyfriend on the couch watching a movie, but he was basically spoiling everything even though you both have never seen the film. I guess that's one pet peeve about him, but you still love him to death.

You actually can't think of a life without him in it, he's definitely made your life a little brighter and he absolutely adores you.

While he was spoiling the movie, you told him you'll be right back and went to get your snacks from YOUR pantry. You opened it and see it's completely empty.

You deadpan as you look at Ranpo, he was already looking away from you while whistling.

"You told me you weren't gonna eat my snacks!!" You said in almost a whine

"I ran out of my snacks and got hungry! I'm sorry but you should've seen this coming, sugar" he protested with a smile

You speed walk up to him and start tickling him, making him laugh "did you see this coming?!"

"yep sure did!" He said while laughing

You then start to tackle him, making both of you fall off the couch and on to the ground with a loud thud. You were both laughing and fighting, trying to make the other admit defeat by pinning the other down

"You wanted this to happen didn't you, you smartass!?" You asked while smirking

"Maybe I did! What you gonna do about it-? AH!" His sentence was cut off when you aggressively pinned him to the ground

"HA! I win!" you shouted

"You still don't have any snacks though~!" He said with a snarky tone

You pinched his cheek harshly making him whine out in pain "OWIE!!!"

"Your lucky your cute, but you owe me snacks!" You said

"Okay okay! That's fair, just let go of my cheek!" He pleaded.

You let go of his cheek as he chuckles softly. You both then realize what kind of position your both in right now. You were sitting on top of Ranpo and his hands were on your thighs, your hands were on his shoulders holding him down.

You blushed "i- sorry let me just-" you tried getting off of him but he holds you in place. You look at him with a flustered, confused face.

"Y/n.." he says in almost a whisper while looking down to where your straddling him. He then suddenly lays his head on the ground, taking a deep breath.

"I... Want you.. and ...I've been wanting you for awhile now" his grip on your thighs tighten from how nervous he is

"I want to show you how much I...love you. If that's okay with you" he finishes, his cheeks show a soft pink across them.

You blushed as well, he was so cute when he was embarrassed. You smile softly as you lean into his lips, kissing him.

"Yes, I'd love that actually" you responded with a warm smile

He opens his eyes to look at you. He knew you would agree, but it was still embarrassing to say the words out loud. He also wanted to hear you say you wanted him too.

He dives into your lips to kiss you, already out of breath after a few seconds. He felt his heart race with excitement and nervousness.

One of your hands was busy playing with his hair and the other was on his chest. He starts to get a little needy and gently begins to thrust upwards to get some sort of friction.

He moans into the kiss, feeling slight pleasure on the tent forming in his pants. You moan from the feeling of his bulge against your clothed cunt. The sensation was good but he wanted more.

He abruptly turns you over and gets on top of you, making you gasp. He immediately starts to kiss your neck, gently nibbling on it

"Such a cutie~" he chuckles against your neck as you shiver from his warm breath tickling you.

He then sits up and puts his hands on your pants, lowering them down, you blushed red while looking away

"Don't be embarrassed, love~ you've never looked so tasty" he says with a smirk.

You sit up with your elbows "don't tell me your-"

He lowers his head to get in-between your legs, his hands on your waist pulling you closer "of course I am. now sit back and enjoy the ride"

before you could say anything he already starts to devour your cunt, your elbows giving up and letting you fall back to the ground while you arch your back.

"Mmm~ so sweet! I think I found a new favorite desert~" he mumbles against your clit, the vibration making you feel good as he begins to thrust his tongue into you.

You hold onto his hair tightly and he moans. You find yourself thrusting your hips against his tongue for more pleasure.

"It feels so good~ ah~! Ranpo~" he whimpered from how you moaned his name, it made his cock twitch and ache for you.

His moans, tongue, and fingers were all you could think about, only reaching you closer to your climax.

"Ranpo~ ah~! I'm going to c-cum~!" You say while tightening your grip on his hair, pulling him closer.

He moans as he circles his tongue around your quivering clit. You squeeze his head gently with your legs as you cum on his tongue with a big moan.

You were breathing heavily, trying to slow you heart rate down. Ranpo starts to pant too as he looks at your cunt "I want seconds.."

he starts to lower his head to meet your pussy, but you push him over. His back hitting the couch you were sitting on awhile ago.

"I think it's time for the main course don't you think?" You ask while taking off your shirt and bra.

He stares at your body and you could see his bulge throb. He understands what your saying and takes off his clothes too.

You tell him to sit on the couch to get more comfortable and when he does you straddle his lap, looking into his green eyes

"it's my turn to make you cum" you kiss his lips after you say those words.

He whimpers when he feels the tip of his cock touch your wet folds, his hands holding on to your hips.

He pulls away from the kiss and looks down to where your both about to be connected, gulping from the sight.

You begin to sink your hips down onto his cock, making both of you moan.You stayed still to make yourself adjust to him, but he gently starts thrusting into you

"P-please, sugar...start..I can't stand waiting anymore~" His begging made you tighten around him.

You lift yourself up to only quickly sink into him again. He whimpers in satisfaction as you slowly jump on his cock.

"Oh sugar~ your so wet~ mmm~! You take me in so good~" he moans.

He then lays his hands on your breasts, caressing them gently as you whimper. he lowers his head to suck on one of your nipples, his tongue working magic on you.

"So pretty~ mmn~ Faster, sugar~" he begs

This influences you to jump on his cock at a fast and aggressive pace, your thighs hitting his lap from every jump, a loud clapping sound being created. The sound was making the situation more lewd and only made you and him moan louder.

You felt his grip on your hips tighten "oh yeah so good~! ngh~! so fucking good~ i- I'm about to cum!"

"Hah~ me too! God you feel amazing Ranpo~! Such a good boy~" you praise

He responded in the loudest and most sexy whimper you've ever heard, his head falling on top of the couch cushions and his mouth agape. You both feel your release come closer and closer and finally your at your limits.

Before Ranpo could finish, he quickly pulls himself out of you and cums on your stomach, some of it landing on your breasts. You both moan from your euphoric release, twitching and shaking from the intensity.

As you felt your heart slow down to a normal rate, you wipe some of the cum on your body with your fingers, and with curiosity, licking your fingers clean. Ranpo looked at you with a flushed faced

"You taste delicious too, Ranpo~" you smile at him

You could hear him softly whimper before you pull him into a passionate kiss

"I love you so much" you say

You both hug eachother, still trying to regain your energy back when suddenly, realization came to you

"Did- did you plan all of this?" You asked

He chuckles quietly "yep sure did! but I meant everything I said. It definitely was so much better compared to what I imagined it would be, my love~" he said while kissing the top of your head

Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth so say one last thing

"Just like how I didn't know how amazing it would feel to fall in love until you showed up"

💜FYODOR 💜

Fyodor has made some time to spend time with you, since he's always busy, and tonight you had him to yourself.

You both dressed nicely and had some dinner that you made together, talking about whatever comes to mind, making the other giggle from time to time.

He was a demon that threw malice at others, but when it came to you, he showered you with appreciation and affection.

After your dinner, he turns off the lights, dozens of candles illuminating the room and fill your noses with a pumpkin spice scent.

He sets up a gramophone record player and plays The Second Waltz by Shostakovich. He walks towards you while the beautiful melody starts playing, reaching his hand out to you

"care to dance with me, moya lyubov?"

You smiled widely from how sappy yet romantic he can be. You put your hand on his as he pulls you close and puts his other hand on your waist while you put your other hand on his shoulder.

You both begin to waltz slowly as you both look at each other with soft eyes.He picks you up and spins you around when the song crescendos, making you feel like royalty or a princess from a Disney movie.

You giggle from being flustered as he smiles at you, bringing you back to the ground

"No words could ever describe how irresistible you are, my love" he whispers before kissing your cheek with a smile

At that moment you wanted to feel more of his kisses, but even then you knew that wouldn't be enough

"I.. want more of you Fedya" you softly say

"More?" He questions you while tilting his head

"I crave more of you everyday. Your the only man I want in this world"

You grab his hand and bring it towards your lips, kissing each pad of his fingers and lastly kissing his palm. You gently position his cold hand to cup your face as you look into his eyes.

"Please Fyodor, make me yours tonight"

Saying his name with your beautiful voice made him shiver and the words you said drove him crazy. He sighs in satisfaction while closing his eyes for a quick second before opening them again

"how I've waited for you to say those words y/n"

He leans into your lips with a gentle kiss that slowly digresses to a rough, passionate make out. You both hug eachother, trying to keep the other as close as possible

You grab his right hand and place it on your clothed breast. You feel him gently squeeze and caress it, making you moan quietly into the kiss.

He slides his right hand up to your shoulder and lowers your sleeve down, exposing more of your neck to leave hickeys

"I only want you, my love. And, God forbid, anybody tries to steal you away from me" he says in between kisses before biting down on your neck, making you whimper loudly and tightly clenching his hair.

He groans "I am yours and you are mine, and tonight I'll prove it"

He goes back to kissing your lips as both of you walk towards to bedroom. He lays you down on the bed as he gets on top of you, your arms around his neck and his right hand sneaking it's way under your underwear to rub your clit in circles.

You moaned "Mmn~! Fyodor~"

You felt his breath shiver "say my name again, my love. It's intoxicating"

You start to moan his name, creating him to feel aroused, hard and groan. He leaves hickeys on your collarbone as he speeds up his fingers.

You could already feel your release coming. The thought of his fingers trying to make you climax as he groans in your ear was enough to drive you over the edge.

You were just about to cum when suddenly he pulls his fingers away from you, you responded with a whine.

"Why'd you stop?" You asked while panting

He looks at his wet fingers, spreading them to see a webbed like liquid connect to his middle and ring finger. He then licks them clean in front of you and chuckles

" I thought you'd like to cum on something much better, my dear" You blush from his words

"take off your clothes, myshka~" he says in a low voice before sitting up to remove his own clothes.

You begin to remove your clothes, not leaving a single thing on and he does the same.

He looks at your naked body that's underneath him, taking in all the fine detail of it and notices you staring at his hard shaft.

"I hope your not disappointed" he says

Your eyes become wide from embarrassment "n-no! quite far from it actually"

he chuckles and kisses your forehead "I was right. No words could ever describe how beautiful you are"

You feel your heart flutter, but then you feel it skip a beat when you felt the tip of his cock enter you, slowly pushing Into you.

You moaned loudly, but Fyodor kissed your lips to muffle your noises. As much as he wanted to hear your voice, he wanted to kiss you while he penetrates you for the first time, finally able to call you his.

You heard him groan in the kiss while he still pushes inside you, until finally he's completely inside.

He lets you adjust while he struggles to not pound into you fast and roughly right away, at least not today, tonight was meant to be memorable and special.

"P-please move Fyodor" you pleaded

He thought you were so cute at this very moment and when you said his name it made me throb. He begins to move, his pase is slow, but his thrusts were deep.

You felt his body twitch every now and then from the pleasure. He then pushes his cock deep inside your cunt, letting you cock warm him just for a bit.

He closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath, really trying to ingrain to his memory how amazing you feel. He slowly opens his eyes and stares at you with lustful eyes

"F-Fyodor- mn~" you moaned

He kisses your lips gently, making you feel loved and protected. You suddenly felt his cock pull out and instantly thrust back inside you again.

Fyodor was now going at a perfect pace, not too slow and not too fast. You both moaned from the pleasure

"Too good~ Mnn~! Im already about to ah~! Cum!" You moaned

"Hold it and wait for me, my love. Your doing so well~ mmm~! I've never felt so much pleasure~"

You scratch his back with your nails and moan his name, fueling his arousal. He instantly went at a faster pace as you arched your back, your breasts bouncing and attracting his gaze towards them.

He could only hold on for so long when you moan his name and tightly stroke his cock almost too good.

"Who knew you were so lewd, my dear Ngh~! Do I make you feel that good? Mmn~ so tight~"

The way you looked right now turned him on so much, you felt him throb deep inside you. His mind could only think about you and the sensation. He could feel himself about to cum

"Myshka~ I'm at my limit mmn~ cum with me y/n~" he says while thrusting faster

You moan louder "please... inside MMN~! inside me Fyodor~"

And with that you were both at your breaking point. He cums deep inside you with a low moan as you cum on his cock, feeling him throbbing inside you while he claimed your insides.

He made sure to look at your face when you came, to know how good he made you feel. This was for sure the best climax you and him have both ever had. You were both calming down from your release, breathing heavily.

He gently cups your face with his hand, your tired eyes still looking at each other with love "I hope you're proud to call me yours just as much as I am to call you mine."

You feel your mind ease with affection from his words. He then kindly says

"I'm madly and deeply in love with you, y/n"

💙ATSUSHI💙

You and Atsushi were on your apartment balcony, talking about your favorite past memories. He always loved seeing you happy and laugh remembering your childhood, even if he couldn't relate he loved listening to your stories.

He even loved hearing about your bad memories, not because he's a sadist, but because he felt happy you could tell him about those things.

He loved everything about you and you loved everything about him, sure you both had your flaws, but there's way more to love than hate.

You've helped build his confidence and slowly taught him to love himself by telling him what you love about him, which was almost everything. You loved him and he loved you

You were both laughing when suddenly fireworks starts to brighten up the sky from afar, taking your attention. All different types of colors were painted on the night sky as your eyes reflected them.

"Wow, I didn't even know there was a festival nearby" Atsushi says

"Me either" you chuckled "but it's so pretty"

"Maybe we should make a wish?" Atsushi asked like an excited kid

You looked at him in awe and laughed "you are adorable"

"Sorry was that dumb?" He asked a bit embarrassed and scratching his head

You felt bad "no! I just thought it was cute haha yeah let's make a wish"

you smiled at him and then closed your eyes He followed your action and closed his eyes too, taking in a deep breath. You wished for the obvious, to spend a lifetime with him, and opened your eyes.

"What'd you wish for?" You asked him

He chuckles softly "I wished to be your favorite memory one day" he says gently

You tilt your head. He speaks again while looking at you "I want us to have plenty of happy memories together and that you'll smile and laugh when you tell other people about your happiest memories with me in them, just like you were doing earlier"

Your eyes widen as your felt your heart beat throughout your whole body, his words moving you in so many ways. You knew it was a bit cheesy, but to hear those words be directed towards you, it felt so different and so heart warming.

"I just want to make you feel more loved Everyday and for you to be happy just as much as you make me" he says

You smile "Im already happy since I have you and I couldn't ask for more"

He smiles with teary eyes, tears start to fall down his cheek. His eyes go wide from shock as he tries to wipe them away

"I'm sorry! I don't know why I suddenly cried. I guess I'm just happy someone I love feels the same way" he said with a blush on his cheeks

You held his face with a chuckle "don't be sorry, Atsushi! I'm happy you feel the same way too" you kissed his nose and forehead

He smiles kindly then cups your face and kisses you, knowing it was a perfect time to kiss someone. The kiss turns into a slow and gentle make out as you tilt your head slightly to deepen it.

He pulls away "Let's make a new memory tonight" he says slightly panting

"This night has already turned into a happy memory" you laugh

He smiles "I'm glad but... I want this to be the night where we....become one" he finished while looking at you with ambition

"I want you to be my first and ..hopefully my last" After he finished his words

he noticed your shocked eyes "O-of course if it's okay with you!" He stammers, putting his hands out in defense

You chuckle and grab his hands, pulling him in close"It's more than ok, I .....want you too" you responded with blush on your cheeks

He smiles. His eyes glowing with pure happiness. He then kissed your lips with confidence and passion. You grab a hold of the back of his head to deepen the kiss, both of you panting heavily whenever you pull away for air.

You both make your way to the bedroom while making out, soon finding yourself laying on your bed and Atsushi on top of you.

You start to unbutton his shirt and when his chest and stomach was exposed, you pushed him over, straddled his lap and kissed his naked torso. He whimper quietly as your lips tickled his sensitive skin. When you saw the scars he has on his stomach, you kissed them one by one

"your so beautiful, Atsushi" you mumble against his skin.

He felt electricity go through his body. His heart fluttered. He then sits up and kisses your lips again, this time pulling off your shirt. He pushed you over to kiss your beautiful body

"your so soft. You are literally perfect y/n" he praises you as his hands lay on your rib cage, right under your breast.

You could tell he was holding himself back from touching you all over, so you decided to helped him out. You push him away for a quick second, so you could take your bra off, his eyes directing towards your chest while gulping. You took his hand and placed it on your bare breast

You immediately kissed him after the contact, feeling his hand squeeze and caress you. After awhile of kissing, you pushed him over again, this time facing the tent in his pants. You unzipped his pants to pulled them down, taking his underwear as well, his hard cock springing free.

He sits up on his elbows, immediately blushing more when he sees you look at his member. He felt like you were disappointed by his size, but then you said

"Just the sight of it is already making me wet" You saw his cock twitching from your dirty words.

Your hand grabs a hold of his hard shaft as you gently kiss or lick the tip while slowly stroking his cock with your hand. He whimpers while shutting his eyes tightly, his fingers clench around the bed sheets. He watches you as you play with him when suddenly, you invite his needy cock inside your warm, salivating mouth.

His body gives up and completely lays flat on the bed as he moans your name, his head falling backwards from the pleasure. You fit only what you can into your mouth, stroking the rest with your hand that couldn't. His whimpers and twitches making you so wet.

"S-so mmnph~! Good~ i- ah~! I didn't think it'd feel this good~" he moans

He stands up with his elbows again and places a hand on the side of your head, stroking your hair. His eyes seemed to be drunk with arousal.As much as you enjoyed tasting his dick, you pulled him out with a tight pop sound.

He looked at you confused and out of breath. He was about to say something, but you cut him off

"I think we should get to the main part now" you said with a soft smile, pulling off your pants swiftly

You then straddled his lap and lift your hips up slightly, holding his cock to your felt folds. His hands rested on your hips. You could feel his heart beat fast from one of your hands laying on his chest.You leaned closer to his face and kissed his forehead, cheek, and lips. You tried to ease his nerves

"Your beautiful, Atsushi"

He gulped before responding "Your flawless, you know?" He smiles

You smile back and kiss his lips once more, sitting up again just above his hips. You look into his eyes for a second before sinking yourself onto Atsushi's cock. You gasp from the shock wave of pleasure and being stretched out. Atsushi moaned while closing his eyes

You didn't wait to start riding his cock in and out of your in a slow motion.

Atsushi moaned "Ah~ Mmn~! W-wait~!" He then squeeze your hips from his fingers, he moaned loudly and thrusted his hips upwards, cumming inside of you. You were a little shocked

"Ah! I-i am so sorry!" He said with a genuine tone, blushing from embarrassment

You chuckle and attack his face with small pecks "it's ok, my love. It's normal for that to happen on your first time" you said

He hugged you to pull you closer "i-im not done though" he responds.

Out of no where, he turns your body over and gets in between your legs. He attacks your neck with soft kisses, slightly arching your back and pulling on his hair, making him groan

You felt the tip of his cock against your entrance again, you looked down to see he was hard again. Before you could say anything, he thrusts his cock inside you, earning you to dig your nails into his shoulders and moan.

"I- ah~ can't make you feel unsatisfied" he says before he thrusts into you at a normal pace.

His forehead rests on the crook of your neck, his eyes closed and whimpers leaving his mouth.

"So warm~ mmn~! so tight~ so wet~ god you feel amazing y/n~" he moans

You wrap your arms around his neck "y-yeah your doing so good, Atsushi~ it feels so good mmmn~ faster please~"

Your praise made him throb and immediately started thrusting into you fast. His cock felt like it could melt from how good you felt around him while your cunt ached to cum on his wet dick.

You could feel some of his cum drip outside you the more he pounded into you and it only made you closer to your release.

He looked down to see the mess you have both created from being connected, the cum oozing out of you, the bed sheets becoming wet, his cock soaked from his cum and your arousal. It turned him on so much

"G-god~ ngh~ i-im about to ah~! Cum again~!" He moans out loud

"Me too~ l-lets do it together mmn~! Atsushi~"

Saying his name while moaning was through him over the edge, he planned to shoot his load on your body, but your legs locked him in place. It was your way of saying to cum inside and he understood.

With one last thrust, he moaned your name while cumming inside you. You felt his cock throbbing aggressively as he came, and that's when you finished on his dick, moaning his name too.

You held on to each other for dear life as you both tried to catch your breaths. You felt his hot breath on your neck, kissing his forehead and with your hand, pulling him to lay on your chest.

"You did amazing, Atsushi. Thank you for being the best man I've ever had in every way"

He closes his eyes as he feels himself drift to sleep, feeling safe in your arms

"Your my favorite memory y/n"

🧡CHUUYA🧡

You were holding tightly on to Chuuya as he rode his motorcycle, using his ability to ride on the sides of the buildings to avoid traffic, chasing some enemies. The only thing you could hear was far away gun shots, tire's screeching, and Chuuya cursing under his breath.

He didn't want you to get involved in this situation, but you were used to seduce the enemy with your charm, and unfortunately they saw through your facade. Too late though, since you got all the information you needed from them

One of the enemies instantly grabbed you by your hair, putting a gun next to your head, they knew there were some people from the pm to keep a close eye on the situation.Chuuya stood up when he saw you in danger, about to use his ability, the enemy told him about how their ability worked.

They could control, whoever they touch, their blood, and told Chuuya all the different ways they could kill you even if he used his ability. You couldn't even use your ability against them. They would kill you before you could even do anything.

Your ability allowed your body to be a voodoo doll, you just had to consume something from someone you want to hurt like hair, blood, or even skin. With that you could shoot yourself in the head, only for the bullet to go through theirs instead, leaving you completely unharmed. exactly like a voodoo doll. Your ability is called Coraline

Chuuya didn't want to gamble with your life, so as the enemy used you as a reason to escape, throwing you to the ground when they thought it was safe to make a run for it.

Chuuya immediately ran up to you, asking if you were ok and telling the other people of pm to go after the enemy. You told Chuuya you were okay and to told him you wanted to run after them. That's when you two rode on the motorcycle bike, on your way to kill a couple of enemies.

Chuuya already wanted to kill them since their hands were all over you. They flirted with you and even almost tried to kiss you. He wanted to beat the living shit out of them

Luckily that lemon bomb guy, kajii, was able to stop the enemies vehicle, putting them in a corner. Bad news is that nobody was able to kill them because of the blood control ability, wether it was shielding them by creating a wall of blood, healing themselves or creating sharp spikes of blood to whoever came near.

When you got to the scene, you tried to think of a way to kill them. After a bit you thought of a way."Chuuya, hold them down with your ability"

He looked at you with a worried expression "what are you planning? Don't do anything stupid y/n"

"Just trust me" you said grabbing a hold of his hand, kissing his knuckles

He looked at you like you were stupid at first and now his eyes showed gentleness "I trust you"

He did what you asked of him. The enemies were sunk to the ground in a way, but they were still huddled together, the enemy's ability to still be undefeated. You took a deep breath and simply walked towards to enemy with the blood ability. When they noticed you were too close they created sharp spikes of blood to come out of their body's, almost like a porcupine defending themself.

You made eye contact with the end of a spike"Don't do anything stupid, darling" the enemy said

You smiled and then took a big bite out of the end of the shard, leaving everyone shocked. That's when you used your ability. Before the enemies knew your plan, since they know how your ability works, You backed up quickly, picking a lemon bomb out of your pocket, and gulped it whole.

They stared at you with fear as you smirked innocently at them, and in just a couple seconds they literally exploded in front of everyone. Your ability sure was scary.Everyone was shocked at how easy that was for you to defeat the enemy as you walk towards Chuuya, his face glowing with shock with his mouth agape.

He thought you were so fucking hot right at the moment. Even though he wanted to be the one to kill them, he didn't mind one bit.

"I told you to trust me" you said while smiling at him

He stared at you for a good second, he knew you could take care of yourself, he's seen it multiple times, but he just stared at you in awe. The moon light literally shines behind you making you look pure and fragile, even though you literally just killed a group of people a few seconds ago, not a scratch on you.

It was almost like he fell in love with you all over again. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into a kiss, you were taken aback, but you gave into the kiss. After the fiery kiss, he pulled away and smirked at you, eyes full of a heartfelt desire.

He then looked at everyone else, telling them clean the mess up and making an excuse to leave. On the ride back to Chuuya's apartment, you could tell his mind was determined to do something desperately.The second you made it his apartment, he kissed your lips with the same passion from earlier, suddenly carrying you bridal style to the bedroom.

He gently placed you on the bed, his body was in between your legs, his hands each placed beside your waist. He laid his forehead onto yours and spoke

"God, you were so fucking hot back there, doll. Y'know, I wanted to be the one to kill those bastards, but you were the one that did it instead, and you did it like it was just a walk in the park"

You blushed from the praise and smiled at him "thank you, love" You put your hands on his shoulders

"I have to get as much of them off of you as possible, since they put their disgusting hands all over you"

"Well there's a... Good solution to this"

He smirks "and that would be?"

"make me yours tonight"He looks at you slightly astonished, he was expecting you to let him leave hickeys or bite marks on your neck.

You smiled tenderly "I want to remind you that I belong to you" you put a finger up to his face "but just so you know that also means you belong to me and only me" you finished

"A-are you sure? I mean not that I'm against this, love. I just want to make sure you dont feel like your doing this just for me"

You chuckled by how considerate he was being "yes, I'm sure. I've actually been wanting to do it with you for awhile now because... I love you, Chuuya and I don't want any other man besides you "

Chuuya's lips slowly shape to a warm smile"I love you too, y/n. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else

You both stare at eachother with admiration. Your lips,bit by bit, close in on each other and creating an intimate make-out.You both take each other's clothes off, your lips never leaving each other. Only when necessary did you separate, but only to come crashing into the others lips once again.

When you were both unclothed, exposed to each other, he pulls away from the kiss, slightly short-winded

"Your so ravishing, doll~ I can kiss you all day" he begins to kiss your neck, nibbling it

You moaned faintly "Your attractive too, you know? So pretty~" grabbing the back of his head to keep him in place

He sucked and kiss your neck, leaving hickeys, taking his time to slowly move down to your collarbone, chest, and stomach. You twitched from his lips tickling your skin every so often

When he was low enough, he grabbed the inside of your thighs, forcing them to spread for him. You stood up with your elbows to get a better look at what he's doing

He looks up at you "I just want a quick taste, doll. Then we can get to the exciting part later" He said under his breath as he licked your folds, taking the wind out of you as you let your head fall back.

His tongue was skillful and so were his fingers which only made the pleasure better with each passing second.You felt him suck on your clit while circling his tongue around it. You moaned his name while pulling his hair, trying to get more off his tongue, but he pulled away.

"As much as I want to continue this~ I have something better for you" he smirks at you

He leans into your lips gently, you tasted yourself from his tongue. You gasped a little as you felt Chuuya rub the tip of his cock up and down on your folds, sometimes rubbing your clit.

"I can't wait anymore, doll~ your making it hard for me to control myself" he whispers with a faint fierce tone.

He holds your hips and kisses your cheek, slowly pushing his cock inside you, making you clench his hair. You both groaned from the strong pleasure flowing through your bodies until he hits the deepest part of you, fitting perfectly.

"Seems like you really are made for me, love~" it seemed like he struggled to say those words, the sensation being too intense

He let you adjust to his size before he began to rock into you, going at a normal pace. You felt immense euphoria already and so was he

"Ngh~! your so tight, doll~ this feels so fucking good~"

"Mmn~! It's only because your too deep~" you said with embarrassment

"Heh you always know the right things to say to me don't you?" He said before he went at a faster pace

You both moaned as you could feel yourselves reach your releases. Your cunt milking him so good and his cock rubbing and hitting all the right places. His moans and kisses made you feel loved and your calling out his name while being pleasured by him was so addicting.

"S-shit! Ngh~! I'm going to cum! Mmn~! Feels too good~"

"Yea~ ah~ I'm going to cum too~ don't stop, Chuuya~" He then pounded into you, desperately wanting to feel his climax.

The rougher pace only made you both last for a few seconds until Chuuya pulled out and came all over your chest. You came when you heard Chuuya's loud moan from his climax, your legs twitching around his waist, moaning his name.

The only thing you two could hear was each others panting. Chuuya lazily got a tissue by his night stand to clean you off, then put his arms around you, face to face with him .You smile tiredly as you hugged him back. You felt him kiss the top of your head

"That was amazing, doll. I didn't even know It could feel that good"

" Are you saying you expected me to me horrible?" You jokingly responded

"What no! It's just I-"

You laugh "I'm just messing with you, love "

He scoffs before chuckling slightly

"I'm glad to have met someone like you as my life. I love you so much, y/n"

It took me four days to finish this, so please reblog and comment what you think 😂🙏

Dazai Photo Location?

Hi anyone and everyone who sees this! So, my favorite author is Osamu Dazai, ofc, known for writing No Longer Human, The Setting Sun, etc. I’ve been a fan of him for some time now, and am finally going on a trip across Japan sooner or later!! 🥳🥳 This was one of the most interesting photo’s I had of Dazai, and was hoping to be able to find and visit this place. The problem is, though, is that after weeks I can’t find this location online, nor even just the river itself :( (i might just be stupid but idk.) if anyone who lives in japan, or possibly could know/find this place or just the specific river, pls leave coordinates or anything below! Thank you! 💕

これをご覧の皆様、こんにちは！ 私の好きな作家は、もちろん、人間失格、斜陽などの作家として知られている太宰治です。 私はかなり前から彼のファンで、遅かれ早かれついに日本を旅する予定です!! 🥳🥳 これは私が撮った太宰治の写真の中で最も興味深いものの一つで、この場所を見つけて訪れることができることを望んでいました。 しかし問題は、何週間経ってもこの場所をオンラインで見つけることができず、川自体さえも見つけることができないことです :( (私が愚かなだけかもしれませんが、わかりません。) もし日本に住んでいる方、またはこの場所または特定の川を知っている/見つけることができる方がいたら、座標などを下に残してください！ ありがとうございます！ 💕 (また、日本語版を読んでいる場合は、翻訳を使用しなければならなかったので、言葉遣いが変だったらごめんなさい！)

Here’s the photo with a small description!/ここに写真と簡単な説明があります！

日本語話者向けの説明: 1948 年初頭、玉川運河で撮影された太宰治。この水域で溺死する数か月前。撮影: 田村茂。

P.S. if there’s any other tags I could add that can help, lmk <3 and Ty for anyone that helps!

P.S. 他に追加できるタグがあればお知らせください。ご協力くださった方には感謝いたします。💕

Dazai Photo Location?

Hi anyone and everyone who sees this! So, my favorite author is Osamu Dazai, ofc, known for writing No Longer Human, The Setting Sun, etc. I’ve been a fan of him for some time now, and am finally going on a trip across Japan sooner or later!! 🥳🥳 This was one of the most interesting photo’s I had of Dazai, and was hoping to be able to find and visit this place. The problem is, though, is that after weeks I can’t find this location online, nor even just the river itself :( (i might just be stupid but idk.) if anyone who lives in japan, or possibly could know/find this place or just the specific river, pls leave coordinates or anything below! Thank you! 💕

これをご覧の皆様、こんにちは！ 私の好きな作家は、もちろん、人間失格、斜陽などの作家として知られている太宰治です。 私はかなり前から彼のファンで、遅かれ早かれついに日本を旅する予定です!! 🥳🥳 これは私が撮った太宰治の写真の中で最も興味深いものの一つで、この場所を見つけて訪れることができることを望んでいました。 しかし問題は、何週間経ってもこの場所をオンラインで見つけることができず、川自体さえも見つけることができないことです :( (私が愚かなだけかもしれませんが、わかりません。) もし日本に住んでいる方、またはこの場所または特定の川を知っている/見つけることができる方がいたら、座標などを下に残してください！ ありがとうございます！ 💕 (また、日本語版を読んでいる場合は、翻訳を使用しなければならなかったので、言葉遣いが変だったらごめんなさい！)

Here’s the photo with a small description!/ここに写真と簡単な説明があります！

日本語話者向けの説明: 1948 年初頭、玉川運河で撮影された太宰治。この水域で溺死する数か月前。撮影: 田村茂。

P.S. if there’s any other tags I could add that can help, lmk <3 and Ty for anyone that helps!

P.S. 他に追加できるタグがあればお知らせください。ご協力くださった方には感謝いたします。💕

✪ JJK MEN HEADCANNONS W/LINKS !! [nsfw]

- Choso, Geto, Gojo, Tojo | Divider @/cafekitsune

Choso… who just couldn’t stop himself from feeling you before sex. Cock hard while you rubbed your ass against it. Your “warm up” he called it, before he’s off whining while you overstimulate him

Choso and you riding to see who lasts longer. there’s nothing he enjoys more than when the both of your are edged, especially when you’re riding his cock. Overstimulating him as you rode out your orgasm until his cum is pouring out of your cunt.

You told Geto you could take it. It was a known fact he had a big cock, but you were confident until he was slowly fucking into your wet cunt, forcing your pussy to take his little monster. Your fingers gripped at the sheets while you took it like an Angel.

There’s nothing more that Geto loves then finally breaking you in to take his big cock. How good his girl is taking such a thing all on her own. Spanking your ass while his cock fucks into you with ease definitely pleases him. He’ll have you non stop screaming, a moaning mess while gripping at the covers.

Gojo definitely films you while you’re fucking. He likes watching how good you can bounce on his cock in the mirror. Knowing he’d show it to you later how much of a moaning mess you were on camera.

Gojo always shocks himself by how much he cums inside of you. He’s moaning softly until he’s gasping, bucketload of cum spilling from your cunt

When Toji misses you, he gets desperate. He doesn’t hesitate to send you videos of his thick cock cumming loads that should be inside of you.

Toji will always remind you of how much you belong to him. After breaking you in on his big cock, fucking into you because he knows you can take it. He’s knows how much of a cock hungry whore you are. He knows how much you love getting your hair pulled while he speeds up his pace. You can take it, can’t you?

Help? 💀😔

Hi anyone! =p You guys can skip this post, but I just had a question on if anyone can find it or has it.

A while back I was searching at Satosugu, and there was this zesty (don’t ask) gif of them. It was greytone and pretty much them fucking, although it only showed the upper half. The camera was recording from the side, and Gojo was on bottom. You could see him slightly bounce from thrusts before Geto came down to kiss him and that’s where the gif ended. My friend rlly liked the gif and was going to use it for inspo (with credits) because he wanted to make smth for another fandom. I either found the post on tumblr or twitter. It would’ve been hot around Early May - possibly June. But I know I definitely saved it early may. If anyone finds it, tysm 🫶🫶

——————————————————————————

tw: sexual (?) content

UPDATE: i found the art from a friend! Im not sure where they found it, but it does have credits on the gif, i believe! Tysm for anyone who helped 🫶🫶

This was the gif:

HEYYYYYLOVELYZISHSJSI

Anyways, welcome to the new

✨️Sweet Bear Bakery, Request Game✨️

THIS IS ALSO A MONSTER FUQUER ACCOUNT SO FEEL FREE TO REQUEST A MONSTER INSTEAD OF A FANDOM ( you also don't have to use the menu♡)

ANONYMOUS OR NOT YOUR REQUEST WILL BE RESPECTED AND I WILL NOT RESPECT BULLYING AND HATE ON THIS PAGE!!!!

(Please boost this post❤️)

THA K YOU TO @cottonlemonade FOR THIS WONDERFUL IDEA!!!! AHDJFBWKD RJE

Once again, my rules are:

I will do

•NSFW

•Dub-Con

•Fluff

•Angst

•Smut

•Kinky shit

•Diffrent reader variations ( Trans, cubby, black reader, ect)

•SFW

I WILL NOT DO

•Pedophilia

•Incest

•Non-Con/Rape

•Transphobia

•Homophilla

•Very heavy degradation themes

Fandoms I write for

•Jujitsu Kaisen

•Demon Slayer

•Haiykuu

And if you are wondering what an NSFW moodboard is then go to (dolcettamagica)'s account to see what I mean.

Please feel free to request, this is a safe space.

two is better than one

gojo x fem!reader x geto ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ nsfw mdni warnings: Threesome, drug use, language, praise/degradation, name-calling, rough sex, mild voyeurism, creampie synopsis: Newly single and looking for trouble, you find yourself in between two of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. word count: 5.2k

“Fucking prick,” you seethe, taking yet another shot of tequila down.

Your skin is burning, and it’s not just from the liquor coursing through your veins. You’re fuming. Your boyfriend of two years dropped the ball on you earlier this week.

“I don’t love you anymore,” he states. "And I haven't for a while." He avoids your gaze. What a pussy. He’s seemingly so sure of this statement, yet still attempts to hide from confrontation. Typical. 

This isn’t the first time he’s done this. It doesn’t hurt like it used to, though. It’s a toxic, cyclical pattern you’ve endured for years, and somehow grown accustomed to.

You look at the ground and can't help but laugh, shaking your head. You meet his gaze again, your eyes swimming with rage and disappointment, and head to your shared bedroom to pack some of your belongings. 

You pack as much as you can into a suitcase, and as you head to the door, you turn to face him one last time. 

"I'll be back later this week to get the rest of my stuff," rolling your eyes at him as you depart. There was no reason to fight this anymore.

To others, you seem heartless and cruel for the way you handled this situation. The truth is, you hadn’t been present in the relationship since the last time this happened. You anticipated the end from the moment he offered to "try again". You knew he'd never change, and you were too weak to leave first.

You blame yourself for putting up with his neglect for so long. You’re ashamed that you allowed him back in time and time again. Each time he walked away, it was you who was left to pick up the pieces. 

It’s time to take control of your life again, but why not have some fun first? Everyone copes in different ways, and tonight, your vices come out to play. 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You’re unsure of how many drinks you’ve had thus far, let alone how high your tab was now, but you couldn’t care less. 

All you want is to feel nothing at all. 

You rub the furrowed area between your eyebrows tentatively, stomach burning with liquor. “I need a cigarette,” you grumble.

Outside, you lean against the brick wall of the club, feeling the bass still pounding in your chest. Your ears are ringing from the change in volume, your eyes readjusting to the yellow cast of a nearby streetlight that contrasted the dim lights of the club. You don’t notice the dark man join you along the wall as you pull the cigarette cartridge from your purse.

“Need a light?” His voice is sultry and low, almost inaudible. 

Your eyes meet his and you raise your eyebrow at him, as if to let him know you’re wary of him, but nod and lean forward with the cigarette in your mouth, eyeing him the whole time. He pulls a lighter from his pocket and flicks the gear with his thumb. You inhale deeply and lean back, head tilted to rest against the wall again, then exhaling gently towards the night sky. 

Your eyes fall back on the mystery man as he sparks a cigarette for himself. He’s alarmingly handsome. Tall and dark. Broad, strong shoulders. Alluring. You can’t help but stare. 

He catches your gaze and you see a smirk curl at the edge of his lips. You feel a warming sensation run throughout your body, flushing your cheeks, and this time it wasn’t due to the tequila. 

“Suguru,” he states with a soft smile. 

“Y/N,” you respond. 

“So what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here when all the fun's inside?” he inquired. 

You roll your eyes at the corny nature of his question.

“Nursing a broken heart, if I’m honest,” you breathed out, looking away again and taking another drag from your half-smoked cigarette. 

Suguru nods, sensing you don't want to open up about it. He takes a puff of his own preroll.

You make small talk as you both work on finishing your cigarettes, enjoying a break from the noise in the cool, quiet evening. 

"Are you just now getting here?", you ask, trying to distract yourself from the inappropriate ache in your core caused by a man you've only just met. 

"Yeah, my friend and I are just trying to blow off some steam after work," he replies, taking another puff. 

"What do you do for work?" you ask, intrigued, wanting to know as much as you possibly can about the mysterious man standing before you.

"I'm a teacher."

"Nothing nobler than education. I commend you," you respond teasingly, tilting your head. He chuckles in response.

A teacher, you think. There's something sexy about a patient man who can lead, command, and discipline. 

There's a lull in the conversation, so you take the time to really drink him in. Finishing your cigarette, you notice how his sharp, defined features juxtapose the soft feathering of his long hair. He's unreal. He reciprocates, taking in every angle and curve of your face. Something unspoken is floating around the two of you, and after a few moments, Suguru breaks the tensioned silence.

"Your ex is a dumbass," he bites. "I would want nothing more than to fill your life with pleasure," he breathes out, seemingly frustrated. You smile. You hadn't been complimented in months. 

"You deserve to be worshipped..." he adds, pausing between his words. You watch Suguru's eyes run along your body once again. He admired the way your tight dress hugged you, clinging to your waist before tapering out at your hips. You curved so effortlessly, so beautifully.... "and simultaneously destroyed."

Suguru couldn't take it anymore. He needed to feel you. 

He closed the distance between the two of you, his hands finding your waist, effectively pinning you against the wall. 

You bring your arms up to wrap around him instinctively, resting your wrists against the back of his neck. You inhale deeply. He smells divine. 

You gaze up at him, eyes wide. The sudden close proximity catches you off-guard. The difference in size and height between the two of you sends another pulse to your core. You're touch-starved. You couldn't remember that last time you and your ex had been intimate.

He chuckles softly at your reaction. Shit, you think, can he tell I'm getting turned on?

Feeling bold and newly free, you look from his lips to his eyes and back again. 

Message received.

He crashes his lips into yours. You moan at the force, prompting Suguru to trace your bottom lip with his tongue. The sensation between your legs only grows hotter. 

A grown escapes his soft lips, hands clawing hungrily along each others bodies, tongues battling for control, the shared taste of cigarettes and liquor making it even more arousing. Your bodies are fully flush against one another, one of his legs wedged between yours. You thrust your hips slowly, grinding against him. The contact against his firm thigh giving you the stimulation you had been craving for months. You moan into his mouth, your pussy throbbing against him. You continue to rut against him, his hands pulling you down to intensify the contact between his clothed thigh and your hot, pulsating core. This carries on for several minutes, but for you two, it feels as though no time has passed.

You pull away from him to catch your breath, eyes low and head dizzy. He groans at the loss of contact, but steps back a bit, allowing you to smooth your hair out and readjust your skin-tight dress. You didn't want him to know how much of an effect he already had on you, but he seemingly already knew after the show you had just put on; Get it together, Y/N. You guys had only just met, for Christ sake, regardless of how badly you wanted him to drill you outside the club. You step closer to him and kiss him deeply once more, pulling away but keeping your faces close. 

"Your taste is addictive, baby," he breathes out, eyes low. You smile to yourself. Let's have some fun, shall we?

"Maybe we'll run into each other again," you seduce, smiling wickedly at him before turning and walking back inside. Suguru huffs a bit, annoyed that you were leaving so soon, his desire for you growing even stronger. But his dark eyes flickered with excitement, watching your hips sway as you depart. Your defiant nature seemed like a challenge. And Suguru loved the chase. 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You return to your seat at the bar. Your mind is consumed by the arousing interaction with Suguru. You wanted more. But, after spending two years with someone who wanted nothing more than to leave you, you thought it was only fair for you to be chased this time around. 

You cross one leg over the other in hopes to quell the sensations throbbing deep in your pussy, but it only added additional pressure. You huff softly. I need more tequila, you decide. 

You catch the attention of the bartender with a smile and motion with your finger that you'd like another round. As she returns with your mixed drink and shot, a voice emerges from just over your shoulder. 

"Put her tab on me," the voice states, sternly. The bartender nods, making the requested changes on her handheld system before going to cater to other patrons. 

You turn your head toward the unfamiliar voice, only to be met with the most beautiful pair of eyes you'd ever seen peering over the round frames of his sunglasses. Strikingly blue. He grins down at you, and your breath hitches in your throat, another pulse sent straight to your core. He's gorgeous. Platinum white hair. Tall. Slender. Violently confident and charismatic. Anyone who wears sunglasses at the club is either too intoxicated to make eye contact or just absolutely insufferable. But his seem to suit him perfectly. 

"Hello, beautiful," he smirks. His arm snakes around the back of your chair, his hand rubbing deep circles into your shoulder. You lean into his touch and stifle a moan that threatened to escape your lips, still recovering from your interaction with Suguru. You smile back up at him through your lashes.

"I'm Y/N", you purr, tilting your head slightly with a small smile. With all these beautiful men wanting your attention, you should have called it quits with your ex a long time ago. 

"Satoru," he replies, his free hand taking yours. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it gently, winking at you. You giggle at the cheesiness of his affections, but it was definitely working. He releases your hand and removes his arm from around your shoulder, taking a seat next to you at the bar. You turn to face him, and you notice him raking his eyes up and down your body, taking in every part of you, before his gaze meets yours again. 

"There has to be a reason why a stunning woman like you is drinking alone at the bar," he says smoothly. 

"I would return the sentiment, but it seems neither of us are alone anymore," you grin, pushing your hair out of your eyes. 

"I appreciate you paying for my drinks," you follow up.

"It's been a while since anyone's done that for me," you say, your appreciation swirling around your words. You sip from the cocktail straw in your drink, gazing deeply into his eyes. 

"Anytime. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to speak to you," he replies. 

You watch as his eyes run up and down your body again. Your cheeks flush and the pulse between your legs picks up again, and you recross your legs in an attempt to hide it. 

But there's no hiding from Satoru.

He leans closer to you, placing his hand on your thigh. You glance down, his thumb rubbing gently on your soft flesh. Your breath catches in your throat, and Satoru smirks at the way your body is already responding to him. His mind wanders to what else he could do to you...to the sounds you'd make for him. 

He begins to speak, but before he can get anything out, another voice interjects. 

"I see you've met my friend, Satoru."

You lock eyes with Suguru, who's now standing beside Satoru. You glance between the two of them, panicked. Shit, you think. Not good. You had enough drama in your life from the past two years to last you a lifetime. And of course, being caught between two friends tracks for the kind of luck you have in your life. 

Before you start pleading your case, Satoru speaks up.

"Damn, so you got to her first, huh Suguru?, the white-haired man huffs out, directing his attention toward his friend. Satoru's thumb is still massaging your thigh, squeezing hard, as if to assert dominance.

"Yeah, I did. We had some fun out there didn't we, Y/N?" Suguru retorts, smirking down at you. Your mind wanders back to the way you were using his thigh for your own pleasure. Unsure of how to play this situation, you nod slowly, blushing, still glancing between the friends. Satoru smirks at his friend's comment. 

"So, are you guys going to fight over me or what?" you boldly ask, resting your elbow on the bar top and propping your head up, hoping to regain control of this situation. Satoru chuckles at your statement, glancing up at his friend.

"That won't be necessary, princess," Suguru says teasingly, directing his gaze back to Satoru, who gives a small nod in response. A coy smile spreads across both their faces, looking back at you. Your heart rate quickens and your eyes darken, and while you're unsure of what's in store for you this evening, you can't help but feel aroused. Fuck it...let's have some fun. 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Shot after shot cascades down the trio's throats as the night carries on. With the music rattling through your chest and the spotlights bouncing off the walls, you find yourself getting lost in this moment. You felt free. Pure ecstasy courses through your veins. Your back is pressed up against Satoru, grinding your ass in tempo to the music. Suguru is sat in a booth, arms extended along the back of the chair and legs crossed, watching the whole ordeal, his erection becoming more difficult to conceal. 

You tilt your head back against Satoru's shoulder, peering up at him through your lashes, and his arm snakes around you. His hand finds its' way to your neck, massaging it gently. The contact only spurs you on, grinding deeper into Satoru's crotch. You can feel him grow harder against you, his other hand clawing at your hip, pulling you even closer. People lingered around the two of you, the dance floor of the club teeming with sweaty, intoxicated bodies, but it felt as though you and Satoru were the only people on earth. 

Your eyes maneuver through the sea of people around you and lock eyes with Suguru. He's smirking at the two of you. Even with the distance between you, you can tell he's enjoying the show. Maintaining eye contact with Suguru, you run your tongue along your upper teeth, grinding harder against Satoru. You see Suguru shift his weight in the booth, knowing he's getting harder watching the steamy interaction between you and Satoru. 

You turn around to face Satoru, wrapping your arms around his neck. Bringing his face closer to yours, you run your tongue vertically from his bottom lip to his top lip. He groans, grabbing the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. Your tongues are battling one another for control. Soon after, you feel another body press up against your back, You break the kiss, Satoru removing his hands from around your neck to find your waist. You turn and see a smirking Suguru. He brushes your hair away from one of your shoulders, ducking his head down to gently suck on the soft flesh of your neck. You roll your head back and rest it against his shoulder, eyes lilting closed. You moan at the way his warm breath dances along your sensitive skin, sending chills down your spine.

Satoru pouts a bit, feeling left out. He uses two fingers to tilt your chin back so you can meet his gaze. Your eyes are glazed over, lids low, and Satoru chuckles at how fucked out you already look. He leans down and kisses you deeply again. Suguru is still suckling gently. He breaks away from your neck and brings his lips closer to your ear.

"Are you ready to go, princess?" Suguru asked, feeling you nod desperately against his shoulder, still making out with Satoru.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You're sat between the two men in the back of a cab, heading to the hotel you've been staying in since leaving your ex. Both of their large hands are placed each of your thighs. Your attention is on Suguru, kissing him deeply, tongues lapping against one another. You pull away, a thick trail of spit connecting the two of you. You turn to Satoru and give him the same treatment, mixing all three of your fluids together. Suguru groans at the sight and digs his fingers into your thigh before dragging his hand under your dress and over your panties to meet you in the place you crave him most. He rubs tantalizingly slow circles into your clit, making you rut into his hands.

"Feels so good, doesn't it, princess?" Geto asks you, teasingly.

"Your pussy is so hot for us," he continues, growling into your ear. You try to pull away from Satoru to fall deeper into the feeling of Suguru playing with your pussy, but Satoru grabs you by the back of the neck to prevent you from leaving.

"Stay right here, sweetheart," Satoru mumbles against your lips.

"Be good for us," he groaned out. You moan in response. Satoru's grip on your neck constricts and relaxes over and over, massaging your throat, and the throbbing in your pussy matches the rhythm against Suguru's hand. You place your hand on Satoru's bulge, palming him through his slacks. You mirror your actions against Suguru. You hear Satoru's breath catch in his throat from the sudden contact, and Suguru growls softly into your ear.

"That's it, baby, th-that's it", Suguru slurs out.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

After pulling up to the front of the hotel, Suguru hangs back to pay the driver while you and Satoru stumble up the marble stairs and through the entrance way, not wanting to break the contact between the two of you. You break away for just a second as you pass the woman who checked you in on your first night. You exchange small smiles at one another as you and Satoru walk by, her knowing about the situation that brought you and her to meet. Her eyes widen when Suguru catches up to the both of you and slings his arm around your waist, guiding you and his white-haired friend toward the elevator. Her surprise is soon replaced with elation, and she giggles to herself, happy to see you're finally enjoying yourself. Atta girl, she thinks.

The ride up to the 15th floor feels like an eternity. You're pressed up against Suguru, his back flush with the elevator wall, the two of you making out deeply once again. Satoru is on the opposite wall, palming himself to the scene unfolding in front of him. The doors finally part, and Suguru leans down and picks you up by your thighs. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and intertwine your finger behind his neck for support. He walks the two of you out of the elevator, Satoru hot on your tail. At the door, you break away from Suguru's lips to pull your keycard from your small handbag. Handing it to Satoru before reigniting the kiss with Suguru, you hear the lock disengage as he taps it against the keypad and pushes the door open.

Suguru drops you onto the bed before standing upright again, he and Satoru shoulder to shoulder, smirking at each other before peering down at you. The dominate energy of the two of them send chills down your spine.

"Isn't she beautiful, Suguru? I can't wait to ruin her". Your eyes widen at Satoru's brazen remarks. You prop yourself up on your elbows, bringing your thighs back together and blushing at the two of them.

"Don't get shy now, sweetheart, you were such a tease this whole evening," Satoru laughs out, leaning over you.

"You're gonna take what we give you and thank us after we're done with you."

"She's quite the vixen..you should have seen the way she blue balled me outside the club," Suguru growled back in response. His hands find the hem of your dress, dragging it up over your hips as you sit up more so he can fully remove your clothing. Laid out before them in only a black lace thong and matching bra, they drink in the delicious sight. They each remove their outer layers, discarding them across the room, until they're left in only their boxers. You run your eyes up and down each of their bodies. They look delicious. Chiseled from marble.

Suguru climbs onto the bed, resting his back against the headboard. He leans forward and grabs underneath your arms, dragging you up the bed so that your back is flush against his toned chest. You're sat between his legs, his strong, calloused hands holding your thighs apart as Satoru lays himself on the bed, settling his head between you thighs. Your breath hitches at the sight of his pretty blue eyes staring up at you.

Satoru kisses along your thighs, the warmth of his exhales teasing you, purposely skipping over your dripping cunt. You groan, bucking you hips toward his face, only to be held back by Suguru's firm grip on your hips.

"Aht aht, that's not how good girls ask to be pleased," Suguru murmurs into your ear, gripping your hips even tighter.

"Tell Satoru what you want, princess".

"P-please 'Toru, your mouth," you whimper out. Satoru's finger runs up and down your clothed slit, making you buck your hips again.

"You gotta do better than that," Suguru chucked, "Beg for it, sweetheart".

"Please, fuck me with your mouth. I promise to be good. I want to c-cum on your tongue. P-please, Satoru." Without hesitation, your panties are ripped off of you and discarded, Satoru's tongue delicately dancing up and down you slit before taking your swollen, needy clit into his soft lips, sucking hungrily. You tangle your fingers in his blond tresses, pulling gently. Satoru groans into your cunt, the vibrations bringing you even closer to the edge.

"You sound so fu-fucking good 'fa me, baby girl," Satoru stutters out, trying to speak and eat at the same time. "You k-know it's rude to talk with your mouth full, right ahh.. right, Satoru?", you try to retort. Satoru giggles into you and you hear Suguru's chest vibrate against your back with a chuckle.

Suguru's mouth hangs open, the gushing wetness of your pussy and the sounds you're making in response to his best friend devouring you fills the room. It's almost unbearable for Suguru to resist pushing Satoru away and taking you all for himself.

"She's a fiery one, isn't she, Satoru?" Suguru raises an eyebrow at his friend, who peers up from between your legs and nods in response.

"Mhmm, and she tastes so fucking good," Satoru murmurs against you in response, his tongue still thrashing against you. Satoru teases one finger against your hole before plunging it deep inside you. Pumping in and out rhythmically, he finds your g-spot with ease. He massages into you with the rough pads of his long, slender fingers. His lips latch around your swollen bundle of nerves, sucking greedily. You feel the coils tightening in your stomach, arching your back away from Suguru.

"I...ahh f-fuck..I'm s-so close, Satoru," you cry out, trying to close your legs around his face. Suguru pries your legs apart and holds them open.

"Let go, baby. C'mon, be a good little slut...cum for him. Show him how good he's making you feel," Suguru whispers in your ear. Satoru pumps his fingers deeper into you, sucking even harder on your clit. The tightness in your tummy finally snaps, eyes rolling back in your head, a small yelp leaving your lips. You feel yourself spray your release all over Satoru's face. His eyes widen in surprise before he laps up everything you give him, relishing in the way your sweet juices coat his tongue. You're shaking as he cleans you up with his tongue, riding the fine line between pleasure and overstimulation.

"Mmmm, you saw that Suguru?" asks Satoru, "We found ourselves a squirter". Satoru's tongue continues to lap you up. Suguru's eyes darken at that. He pulls his digit out of your dripping pussy, presenting it to Suguru so he can taste you, too.

Suguru can't take it anymore. He's been rock hard against your back this whole time, fighting every carnal urge that's raking through his body. When he finally gets a taste of you, the restraint he had been so desperately clinging to snaps. He sucks you off Satoru's fingers hungrily, eyes rolling back in his head at your sweetness.

Satoru scoots back as Suguru pushes you onto your stomach, your chest against the mattress and hips in the air, his head dipping to meet your cunt. He drinks up what Satoru so generously left behind for him before straightening up again, sliding his boxers off. He positions himself behind you, teasing your clit with the head of his thick cock. You groan at the sensation, the aftermath of your first orgasm still making your clit sensitive. You push yourself back against Suguru, only to be stopped by his hands taking a hold of your hips.

"Tell me what you want, sweetheart", he says, still teasing your clit with the head of his cock.

"I want you inside me...need to feel you stretch me out...please, Suguru," you beg, trying to push back against him again. Suguru chuckles at this.

"Dirty slut is learning fast isn't she? Being such a good fuck toy for us."

With that, he lines himself up with your dripping hole, and plunges deep into you, giving you no time to adjust to how thick he is as he drives himself deep into you. Your slickness from your orgasm is the only thing saving you from his thickness.

Satoru leans down to kiss you, pulling his boxers off and discarding them. His long cock bounces out and sits rock hard in front of your face. You lick your lips at the sight of his pretty pink head dripping pre-cum, eyes half open, head bouncing from getting fucked into from behind.

"So fucking wet for me, sweetheart. You're taking me so well. Such a good little slut," Suguru gritted his teeth.

"C-can I please...oh-h fu-fuck...can I please suck you off, Satoru? W-want you to come down my throat," you stumble over your words, trying hard to keep your head upright as Suguru continues to drill into you, ramming directly into your sweet spot, his cock stretching you out so painfully, so perfectly. Satoru moans at your question.

"Thought you'd never ask..go ahead, princess. Be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth." His hand cups the underside of your jaw, keeping your head up for you.

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue for Satoru, inviting him in. His hands tangle in your hair, wasting no time before plunging deep into your throat. You gag around his length, eyes watering at the sudden intrusion. Suguru is fucking into you so deeply, his powerful thrust pushing you deeper onto Satoru's length. Gagging and sputtering, you inhale deeply through your nose, adjusting to the pace before opening your throat for Satoru.

"Jesus Christ, she's fucking milking me," Suguru spits out, his unrelenting hips still plowing into you. You can only moan in response, the vibrations running from the back of your throat into Satoru's member, causing him to buck his hip, shoving his cock all the way down your throat.

"Such a pretty mouth..wrapped so tight around me..it's-it's so warm..o-oh fuck," Satoru rambles, one hand on the back of your head, the other under your chin, holding your mouth open for him.

Your stomach begins to tighten up again, and you desperately clench around Suguru. One of his hands leaves your hips and reaches around to start rubbing vicious circles into your clit. The added stimulation pushes you over the edge, and you cry out around Satoru's cock, tears trickling down your face as your second orgasm rakes through you. The sight of you succumbing to Suguru's relentless strokes while choking and moaning around his cock was enough to push Satoru towards his own release, and he bottoms out in the back of your throat before shooting his come into your mouth. His hips sputter and he hunches over, holding your face against his pelvis. Your eyes are rolled back in your head, your own squirting orgasm making it difficult for you to keep upright.

Satoru pulls out of your mouth with a pop, your aching jaw still agape from Suguru continuing to slam into you, chasing his own orgasm. Your chest falls to the bed, unable to keep yourself up anymore, before you're lifted back up by Satoru.

"Stay with us, princess," Satoru coos.

"You're doing so good...let him keep fucking into you. You're taking his cock so well".

Suguru's head falls back, still pounding his hips roughly against your ass.

"I'm gonna fill you up, baby," Suguru pants. You turn your head to protest, but before you can utter a word, Satoru's hand covers your mouth.

"Shut up and take my cum, slut. Be a good fuck toy and let me cream you." Suguru says through gritted teeth. You moan against Satoru's hand in response as you feel Suguru release inside of you, his hot, creamy ropes coating your insides. He trusts a few more times, letting your tight cunt milk every last drop out of him. When he pulls out, you feel your foundation waiver and you collapse onto the bed, your head falling into Satoru's lap.

It had been so long since you had a good fuck. You over-anticipated your body's capabilities..you had been out of the game for too long.

"You did so, so good for us, princess," Satoru says, you head resting against his thigh, trying to regain your composure. You can only hum quietly in response, eyes fluttering. The two men look at each other before looking back down at your fucked out body. Satoru rubs your upper back gently as Suguru massages your shaking thighs. You all sat like that for a moment, relishing in the pleasure still coursing through your veins, the hot smell of sex sitting heavy in the room. Suddenly, Suguru's deep, sultry voice cuts through the silence.

"Don't quit on us now, sweetheart. We're just getting started," he taunts.

author notes: whewww..this is my first story to welcome myself back into the content mines. this was a fun one to write. im def gonna do a part two (how would we feel about turning this into a multiple chapter story where y'all end up in a throuple heheheh....too much or no ((are we seeing the vision))?? lmk if im doin too much. but thank you so so so much for reading and engaging. ill be uploading even more soon. if u have any questions, suggestions, or concerns pls message me!!

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I have mixed feelings 😭🙏

I have mixed feelings about Gojo coming back. 😭

If he came back:

it’s like, fuck yeah, kings back. We all love him. He has so many people he could save. Plus so many people care about him.

but then it’s like

now he’s probably in the afterlife with Geto 😭 he might finally have found peace and is happy. Plus literally almost everyone he cares about is dead, so like 👀.

Man why do these new chapters have to be so sad?! 😭

mixed feelings all around guys

Satoru Gojo

They say Satoru Gojo has no hobbies. It’s an official fact. The reason is because “he can do anything he tries and is almost perfect at it.” So he finds no enjoyment or pleasure in any hobby.

“He’s about perfect at anything he does…”

…Yet he couldn’t realize his best friend was drowning in grief and slowly killing himself.

This is My Special

Ngl, after catching up to 261 and knowing they’re both (probably) dead, this photo hits different 😭😭

It looks as if they could be going into the afterlife together 😭😭😭

(I’m uwu delulu after crying about last chapter. Gojo thinking about Geto again? Like 😭🙏)

Random post after rewatching the second season

I have mixed feelings 😭🙏

I have mixed feelings about Gojo coming back. 😭

If he came back:

it’s like, fuck yeah, kings back. We all love him. He has so many people he could save. Plus so many people care about him.

but then it’s like

now he’s probably in the afterlife with Geto 😭 he might finally have found peace and is happy. Plus literally almost everyone he cares about is dead, so like 👀.

Man why do these new chapters have to be so sad?! 😭

mixed feelings all around guys

Satoru Gojo

They say Satoru Gojo has no hobbies. It’s an official fact. The reason is because “he can do anything he tries and is almost perfect at it.” So he finds no enjoyment or pleasure in any hobby.

“He’s about perfect at anything he does…”

…Yet he couldn’t realize his best friend was drowning in grief and slowly killing himself.

Nurse Geto 💉🩸 (i wonder who’s on the other line)