Everything Feels New In Mortal Form (SAGAU)

campus crush!sunghoon x f!reader

stats class. keep ur glasses on when u fuck me. statistical analysis with ur tongue. thats abt it. sunghoon word porn ngl ENHA HARD HOURS (kinda) 18+ MDNI

-

You're late. Again.

The digital clock on your phone reads 3:10 PM as you sprint across campus, your backpack bouncing against your spine with each step. Statistics seminar started ten minutes ago, and Professor Clarke has definitely noticed your absence by now. Not that it's unusual—you've made it a habit to burst through those doors at exactly ten minutes past, a whirlwind of apologies and bright smiles.

"Sorry, sorry!" you announce as you push open the computer lab door, slightly out of breath.

Twenty pairs of eyes swivel toward you, but Professor Clarke doesn't even look up from his laptop at the front of the room.

"How kind of you to join us," he says dryly. "We were just assigning semester project partners."

You flash him your most charming smile as you slide into an empty seat. "Perfect timing then."

A few people laugh. You've mastered the art of diffusing tension with humor, of making your tardiness seem like a quirky character trait rather than a genuine inability to manage time. It's gotten you this far in university.

"As I was saying," Professor Clarke continues, "this statistical analysis project will count for forty percent of your grade. You and your assigned partner will select a dataset, develop a hypothesis, and use STATA to analyze your findings." He gestures to the complex statistical software displayed on the projector screen—the same software that has been giving you nightmares since week one.

You glance around the room, hoping you'll be paired with Olivia or Zara—friends who wouldn't mind carrying the team if necessary. But when Professor Clarke reads off, "Sunghoon Park and..." followed by your name, your heart does something unexpected.

It skips.

You've noticed him before—it's hard not to. He always sits in the same spot three rows from the front, always arrives fifteen minutes early, always has his notebook open at the exact moment class begins.

What you haven't fully appreciated until now, as you turn to locate him in the room, is just how devastatingly handsome he is. His dark eyes find yours immediately behind stylish wire-rimmed glasses that give him an irresistible intellectual appeal. One corner of his perfectly shaped mouth lifts in the smallest acknowledgment, and a strand of black hair falls across his forehead when he nods at you. The combination of his reserved demeanor and model-worthy looks creates an effect that makes your stomach flip. He's the definition of a hot nerd—the kind that makes you temporarily forget about statistical analysis altogether and wonder what he'd look like with those glasses slightly askew, his usually perfect hair disheveled.

After partnering announcements finish, Professor Clarke instructs everyone to move next to their assigned partners to discuss project ideas.

You gather your things and make your way to Sunghoon's station, dropping into the chair beside him with dramatic flair.

"Fair warning," you say brightly, "I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing with this software. Like, none. Zero. Statistical analysis to me is deciding which café has the shortest queue."

You expect a sigh or a look of disappointment—it's what most serious students do when they realize they've been paired with you. Instead, Sunghoon's expression softens.

"It's okay," he says quietly, his voice carrying just a hint of an accent. "I'm... not an expert either."

"But you always look so focused during class," you say, gesturing to his immaculate notes.

He shrugs, the movement slight and controlled. "I write everything down. Doesn't mean I understand it all."

When he opens the STATA program and navigates through a few screens with apparent ease, you lean closer.

"Okay, so you're being modest. You definitely know more than I do."

"Barely," he admits, and you catch the faintest hint of a smile—not the polite one from before, but something genuine that makes you want to see it again. "I just know how to make it look like I know what I'm doing."

"That's an important life skill," you laugh, pulling your chair closer to see his screen better. "So what kind of data are we analyzing? Please say something fun like ice cream consumption versus happiness levels."

Sunghoon doesn't laugh, but his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners. "Actually," he says, "we can choose almost anything that interests us."

You bump his shoulder lightly with yours. "See? We're going to be great partners. I bring the wild ideas, you bring the common sense."

"Is that what they call it?" he asks, and there's a hint of playfulness in his voice that catches you off guard.

"What would you call it?" you challenge.

He considers for a moment, adjusting his glasses with a single finger pushed against the bridge. The gesture shouldn't be as attractive as it is. "Survival instinct."

You laugh, genuinely surprised. "So I'm dangerous?"

"No," he says, turning slightly to face you better. "Statistical software is dangerous. You're..." he pauses, seeming to search for the right word, "unpredictable."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was meant as one." The quiet confidence in his voice sends a small thrill through you.

Professor Clarke clears his throat at the front of the room. "I expect project proposals by the end of next week. Choose your dataset carefully—it will determine the scope of your entire project."

You glance at the clock. Only fifteen minutes of class remain.

"So, partner," you say, lowering your voice as Professor Clarke continues, "when should we meet to figure this out? I promise I'll try not to be ten minutes late."

Sunghoon's mouth quirks up at one corner. "Would you actually show up if I said 8 AM at the library?"

"Now you're just testing me," you whisper back.

"Coffee shop after class on Thursday?" he suggests instead, his voice equally quiet. "The one behind the science building?"

"Beans & Books? You've got good taste." You nod approvingly. "I practically live there between classes."

"I know," he says, then immediately looks as if he wishes he could take it back.

"You know?" You raise an eyebrow, intrigued and slightly pleased.

A faint color appears high on his cheekbones. "I've seen you there. You always order something different and then type furiously on your laptop."

The fact that he's noticed you before, observed your habits even, gives you a little flutter of satisfaction. "And what do you order, Sunghoon Park? Let me guess—plain black coffee, no sugar."

His eyebrows lift slightly. "Close. Earl Grey tea."

"Of course," you nod sagely. "Sophisticated."

When class ends, you gather your things slowly, suddenly reluctant to leave. Sunghoon stands, slinging his messenger bag across his chest in one smooth motion.

"Thursday, then," he says, as if confirming an important business meeting.

"It's a date," you reply with deliberate casualness, watching his reaction.

His expression remains mostly neutral, but you don't miss the quick blink, the slight pause before he nods. "For statistics," he clarifies, but the slight upturn of his lips betrays him.

"For statistics," you agree solemnly, though you're already wondering what other subjects you might explore together.

The coffee shop meeting goes surprisingly well. What you expected to be an hour of awkward dataset discussions turns into three hours of conversation that meanders far beyond statistics. Sunghoon, it turns out, has layers beneath his reserved exterior—he plays piano, reads philosophy for fun, and has a dry sense of humor that catches you off guard and makes you laugh harder than you have in weeks.

By the end of the evening, you've not only selected your dataset (coffee consumption versus academic performance—your suggestion, which he surprisingly agreed to), but you've also learned that his stammer appears when he's either nervous or passionate about a topic. You find both instances equally endearing.

When Friday's class rolls around, something shifts. You arrive only five minutes late (progress), and the space beside Sunghoon, which is usually empty, now seems to be waiting for you. You slide into the seat and he glances up from his notebook, the corner of his mouth lifting in that subtle way that's becoming familiar.

"You're almost on time," he says quietly, amusement in his eyes.

"Don't get used to it," you reply, but there's no bite to your words.

Throughout the class, your awareness of him is heightened—the way his brow furrows when he's concentrating, how his fingers tap thoughtfully against the desk when Professor Clarke asks a difficult question, the scent of his cologne when he leans closer to point something out on your screen.

After class, you find yourself hesitating as you pack up your things, watching as he meticulously organizes his notes.

"So," you begin, aiming for casual, "I was thinking... we should probably meet again this weekend to work on the project." You pause. "My roommate's gone for the weekend. We could use my dorm? Fewer distractions than the coffee shop."

Sunghoon looks up, his expression unreadable for a moment before he nods. "That would be... efficient."

You laugh at his choice of words. "Very statistical of you."

"I meant—" he starts, a hint of that stammer appearing.

"I know what you meant," you interrupt, grinning. "Saturday at four?"

He nods, adjusting his glasses. "I'll bring the data analysis. You bring the coffee."

"Deal."

Saturday arrives, and for the first time in your university career, you spend thirty minutes tidying your room before a study session. You tell yourself it's just basic courtesy, not because you care what Sunghoon thinks of your living space.

At precisely four o'clock, there's a knock at your door. Punctual as always.

You open it to find Sunghoon standing there in jeans and a simple button-down shirt, his laptop bag slung across his body. He's swapped his usual wire-frames for slightly thicker black glasses that somehow make him look even more attractive—scholarly but with an edge.

"You're making me look bad with this punctuality thing," you say by way of greeting, stepping aside to let him in.

"Sorry?" he offers, clearly unsure if he's actually done something wrong.

You laugh. "I'm joking. Come in."

Your dorm room is standard—bed, desk, small seating area with a loveseat and coffee table—but you've made it yours with art on the walls and plants on every available surface. Sunghoon takes it all in with curious eyes.

"I like your space," he says, and it sounds genuine.

"Thanks. Where should we set up? Desk or coffee table?"

"Either is fine," he says, that formal politeness still present even after your hours in the coffee shop.

You end up at the coffee table, sitting side by side on the loveseat, laptops open. For an hour, you actually make progress on the project. Sunghoon explains correlations in a way that finally makes sense, and you discover you have a talent for visualizing data in creative ways that makes his eyes light up with approval.

But as the afternoon wears on, the small space means your shoulders keep brushing, your knees occasionally touch, and each point of contact feels increasingly deliberate. When you reach for your coffee at the same moment he reaches for his tea, your hands collide, and neither of you pulls away immediately.

"Sorry," you both say at once, and then laugh.

"Great minds," you add, but you're distracted by how his eyes look behind those glasses, warm and focused entirely on you.

At some point, you shift positions, both of you turning toward each other to discuss a particularly complicated aspect of your analysis. Your knees are definitely touching now, and the loveseat suddenly seems much smaller than it did an hour ago.

"So if we compare these variables..." he's saying, but you're watching his mouth form the words more than listening to their meaning.

"Hmm?" you say, forcing your attention back to the screen.

He turns to look at you fully, and you realize how close your faces are. "You're not listening," he says, but there's no accusation in his voice.

"I'm distracted," you admit.

"By statistics?"

"By you."

The words hang in the air between you. Sunghoon blinks, his expression shifting from confusion to something more intense. He swallows visibly, and you watch the movement in his throat.

"I'm... distracting?" he asks, his voice lower than before.

"Extremely." Your eyes lock on his glasses, the way they frame his dark eyes, how they complete his devastatingly attractive intellectual look. "Especially with these on."

His eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. "The glasses?"

"God, yes," you breathe, moving closer. "You have no idea how fucking hot you look in them."

A flush spreads across his cheeks, but there's a new confidence in the way he holds your gaze. Without warning, he pulls you forward into a kiss that has nothing of his usual restraint. His laptop slides forgotten to the coffee table as you shift closer, and then somehow you're straddling his lap, your hands on either side of his face as you deepen the kiss.

When you break apart to breathe, his glasses are slightly askew. You straighten them gently, then run your fingers through his usually immaculate hair, deliberately messing it up while keeping the glasses perfectly in place.

"You're so sexy," you murmur against his mouth. "I've been thinking about this since the first day we were paired up."

His hands find your hips, holding you firmly against him. "I find that... statistically improbable," he manages, but his breathing is as uneven as yours.

"I'll show you improbable," you whisper, grinding down deliberately. His glasses fog slightly from the heat between you, and the sight sends a thrill through your body. "So fucking hot," you repeat, unable to stop yourself.

His hands slide beneath your shirt, exploring with a surprising boldness that makes you gasp. "We should—" he starts, breathing heavily.

“Yes,” you agree, already pulling him up from the loveseat, walking backwards toward your bed while keeping his mouth on yours. “The project can definitely wait.”

You fall back onto the mattress, pulling him down with you, careful not to knock his glasses off as he hovers above you. They’ve fogged again from the heat between your bodies, and something about that sight—this controlled, precise man coming undone while still looking every bit the hot intellectual—pushes you past any remaining hesitation.

“Leave them on,” you insist when he reaches to remove his glasses. “Please.”

His lips curve into a smile that’s nothing like his usual restrained expressions—this one is knowing, almost wicked. “If that’s what you want,” he murmurs, lowering his mouth to your neck.

“It’s definitely what I want,” you gasp as his teeth graze your skin. “Along with… everything else.”

There’s a playful air to each touch, a slow building of tension as you both start to peel away layers. You tug at the hem of his shirt first, sliding it up inch by tantalizing inch until he lifts his arms to help you pull it off. He returns the favor by slipping a hand under your blouse, fingertips teasing over your ribs. Every time he tries to hasten the pace, you grin and slow him down, dragging the fabric just a bit more before letting it fall away, leaving him momentarily breathless. The sound he makes—caught somewhere between a groan and a laugh—sends a thrill through you.

Time seems to blur as clothing is discarded piece by piece, inhibitions falling away with each new revelation of skin. The afternoon sunlight filters through your curtains, casting everything in a warm glow.

At some point, you find yourself above him, both of you completely bare except for his glasses, which have somehow remained perfectly in place despite everything. You pause for a moment, taking in the sight of him beneath you—all lean muscle and flushed skin, those wire-rimmed glasses still perched on his nose, slightly fogged from the heat between your bodies.

“You’re staring,” he whispers, a vulnerability in his voice despite the intimate position.

“Can you blame me?” You lean down, placing a gentle kiss on his lips, then another, and another, each one growing more insistent. “God, look at you.”

His hands find your hips, steadying you as you continue to kiss him, his glasses occasionally bumping against your face in a way that only heightens your desire. There's something impossibly erotic about him being completely naked except for those glasses—the contrast between his exposed body and that one remnant of his studious, put-together appearance.

"You're so fucking sexy," you breathe against his mouth. "How does anyone focus in that statistics class with you sitting there looking like this?"

He laughs softly, the sound vibrating against your lips. "I could ask you the same question."

Your kisses become more urgent, your bodies moving together with increasing need. The heat between you builds with each touch, each whispered encouragement. Sunghoon's usually careful movements grow bolder, more instinctive, as your hands explore each other's bodies. His glasses, still perfectly perched on his nose, begin to fog at the edges first—just a light mist that catches the dim light of your room. But as your passion intensifies, as your breathing grows more ragged and synchronized, the lenses cloud completely.

When you pull back to look at him, you can't help but laugh softly at the sight—this brilliantly composed man now completely blinded by the evidence of your shared desire, those glasses that make him look so irresistibly intellectual now rendered useless by the heat radiating between your bodies. To your surprise, he laughs too—not the polite chuckle you've heard in class or the soft amusement from your coffee shop conversations, but a genuine, uninhibited sound that seems to come from somewhere deep inside him. It's rich and warm and completely unguarded.

"I can't see a thing," he admits, his voice husky with desire and amusement. His hands find your face despite his temporary blindness, thumbs tracing your cheekbones with unexpected precision. "But I don't need to see to know exactly where you are."

"Is that so?" you challenge, your breath catching as his fingers trail down your neck, across your collarbone, mapping you with deliberate attention.

"I've been studying you," he murmurs, his touch making you shiver despite the heat between you. "Memorizing. Analyzing patterns." His hands continue their exploration, finding every sensitive spot with remarkable accuracy. "It's very... statistical."

You laugh against his mouth. "Only you could make statistics sound sexy."

Through the fogged lenses, you can just barely make out how his eyes darken at your words. "I have other statistical terms I could demonstrate," he offers, surprising you again with his boldness. His accent becomes slightly more pronounced when he's like this—another detail you've grown to cherish.

"Show me," you whisper, and he does—his hands and mouth conducting a thorough analysis of cause and effect, of stimuli and response, until you're clutching at his shoulders and gasping his name. All while those fogged-up glasses remain perfectly in place, the final vestige of his composed exterior while everything else between you unravels into glorious chaos.

You’re already bare beneath him, skin flushed from teasing and anticipation, but the only thing still clinging to his body—those damn glasses—make it so much worse. Or better. Definitely better.

Sunghoon hovers over you, gaze dark behind the lenses, lips swollen and slightly parted as he takes in the sight of you. You should be embarrassed at how wanton you must look, legs spread for him, body already trembling, but he’s the one who looks wrecked. His composure is gone, shattered somewhere between the desperate kisses and the way you dragged your nails down his back.

His lips quirk. “Still want me to leave them on?”

“Don’t even think about taking them off.”

His smile turns wicked, and then he’s moving—kissing, sucking, trailing his mouth down your body with purpose. His fingers dig into your thighs, spreading you wider, and then he’s right there—close enough that you can feel the ghost of his breath against you, the heat of it making your stomach clench.

He doesn’t start slow. No teasing, no light flicks of his tongue just to test the waters. Sunghoon eats you like he’s been starving for this, like he’s been waiting for the moment he could taste you, drown in you. His tongue is hot and relentless, curling against you just right, pressing where you need him most, sending shockwaves through every nerve in your body.

But what really undoes you is the feeling of his glasses pressing against your inner thighs, the cold metal contrasting with the heat of his mouth. Every time he moves, every time he adjusts his angle, the frames shift against your skin—slightly rough, slightly smooth, a reminder of exactly who is between your legs and how absolutely ruined he’s making you.

You fist the sheets, hips jerking up into his mouth, but he pins you down effortlessly, a strong arm wrapped around your thigh to keep you exactly where he wants you. He groans when you tug at his hair, the vibrations shooting through you, making you gasp his name.

“Fuck, Sunghoon—”

His response is a low hum against your clit, and your whole body shakes. You feel the damp heat of his breath, the slick slide of his tongue, but more than anything, you feel the weight of those goddamn glasses as they drag along your skin, fogging up even more, smudging against your inner thigh every time he moves deeper, harder, sloppier.

The sheer filth of it makes you clench around nothing.

Sunghoon notices, because of course he does—because he’s been studying you this whole time, memorizing what makes you gasp, what makes your thighs tremble around his head. And he’s smug about it, too, because when he pulls back just enough to glance up at you, lips glistening, glasses just barely slipping down his nose, he smirks.

“You like that, don’t you?” His voice is raspy, breathless, wrecked.

You don’t even try to deny it. “Yes—God, yes, don’t stop.”

Sunghoon’s smirk deepens, and he doesn’t make you beg for it. He dives right back in, tongue flicking, sucking, his grip on your thighs tightening as you lose yourself completely. The drag of his glasses, the precise way he adjusts his angle to push you higher, the way he groans into you like he’s getting off on this just as much as you are—it’s too much.

The coil in your stomach snaps hard, pleasure crashing over you so intensely that you barely realize you’re pulling at his hair, moaning his name like a prayer, like you might fall apart completely if he stops.

Sunghoon doesn’t stop. Not right away. He works you through the aftershocks, his tongue slow, methodical, lazy in a way that makes you shudder from overstimulation. Only when your body twitches beneath him does he finally pull away, chin glistening, glasses fucking ruined.

You’re still gasping when he crawls back up your body, hovering over you, his mouth right there, his glasses so close you can see the way they’re fogged-up and smudged with sweat.

When you finally collapse beside each other, spent and satisfied, his glasses are askew once more. You reach over to straighten them, and he catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm.

"So," you say, when you've caught your breath, "should we tell Professor Clarke we've found an interesting correlation to study?"

Sunghoon laughs, the sound free and unrestrained in a way you hadn't heard before today. "I don't think this is what he had in mind for the assignment."

"His loss," you murmur, snuggling closer. "I'd say our statistical analysis was very... thorough."

"We should probably actually work on the project at some point," he says, but makes no move to get up.

"Tomorrow," you promise, running a finger along his jawline. "I think we need to collect more data first."

His eyebrow raises above the rim of his glasses. "For the sake of academic integrity?"

"Absolutely," you agree solemnly, before dissolving into laughter.

The statistics of probability have never been so compelling.

-

Over the next few weeks, your statistics class takes on an entirely new dimension. What was once your least favorite part of the week has become the highlight—not because you've suddenly developed a passion for data analysis, but because of the subtle dance that unfolds between you and Sunghoon twice a week in that computer lab.

The Monday after your "study session," you arrive to class five minutes early—a personal record. Sunghoon is already there, of course, and the moment he sees you, his ears turn slightly pink. When you slide into the seat next to him, now officially your spot, he gives you a small smile that feels like a secret.

"You're early," he says, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

"I had motivation," you reply, letting your knee brush against his under the desk.

His eyes flicker to your lips for a fraction of a second before returning to his notebook. "I hope it wasn't just for... statistical analysis."

"Depends on how you define statistics," you whisper just as Professor Clarke calls the class to order.

Throughout the lecture, you're acutely aware of every movement Sunghoon makes—how he adjusts his glasses when he's thinking, the precise way he takes notes, the occasional glance he throws your way when he thinks you're not looking. Halfway through class, you deliberately drop your pen between you. When you both reach for it, your fingers touch, and he doesn't pull away. Instead, he hooks his pinky finger over yours for just a moment before handing you the pen. The small gesture sends a flutter through your chest.

After class, you walk together to the coffee shop without needing to discuss it. Somehow, it's already become your routine.

"How's the dataset compilation going?" he asks as you find a small table in the corner.

"That's what you want to talk about right now? Really?" You raise an eyebrow.

A faint smile plays at his lips. "We do have a project due in three weeks."

"Always so responsible," you sigh dramatically, but there's fondness in your voice. "It's going fine. I've got the coffee consumption survey data from about fifty students so far."

He nods approvingly. "That's a decent sample size for our purposes."

When your drinks arrive—his Earl Grey and your excessively complicated latte—you notice something different about him. He's still quiet, still thoughtful, but there's a new ease to his movements, a softness around his eyes when he looks at you.

"What?" he asks, catching you studying him.

"Nothing," you say, then reconsider. "Actually, not nothing. You seem... different."

He takes a sip of his tea, considering. "I feel different," he admits after a moment. "With you."

The simple sincerity of his words catches you off guard. For all your flirtatious confidence, his straightforward honesty disarms you completely.

"Good different?" you ask, suddenly feeling shy.

"Very good different," he confirms, and beneath the table, his foot rests against yours. Not by accident.

By the third week, you've fallen into patterns that blend the academic with the intimate. Your Tuesday and Thursday afternoons are devoted to actual project work—usually in the library where the public setting keeps you reasonably focused. 

Your Saturday “study sessions” in your dorm room are significantly less productive in the statistical sense, though you joke that you’re certainly collecting plenty of data on other variables.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes every time you say it, but you know he loves it—loves how eager, how shameless you are when it comes to him. Because every time you spread your legs for him, every time you drag him into another compromising position, he never tells you no.

Case Study #1: The Textbooks

It starts with an innocent enough setup—Sunghoon sitting cross-legged on the floor, back against your bed, flipping through a statistics textbook while you sit across from him, pretending to study. But it’s boring. He looks too good in his glasses, sleeves rolled up, the slightest furrow in his brow as he concentrates. And before you even realize you’re moving, you’re crawling into his lap, straddling him right there on top of the book.

He barely has time to exhale your name before you sink down onto him, making both of you groan.

The hardcover digs into your knees, the pages creasing beneath you, but you couldn’t care less. Sunghoon is buried inside you, stretching you open, warm and deep and perfect, and the only data you’re analyzing is how his breath stutters when you roll your hips just right.

“Fuck, you’re unreal—” he pants, hands gripping your waist, watching you through the slightly fogged lenses of his glasses as you use him, ride him slow, grind on him like you want to ruin him.

You do. You want to wreck him just as much as he’s wrecking you. The friction, the delicious drag, the way his hands squeeze your hips to urge you to go faster, harder—it all shreds your self-control.

By the time you both come undone, gasping and clinging to each other, the textbook beneath you is thoroughly creased, sticky, ruined. Neither of you even bother looking at it.

Case Study #2: The Desk Chair

Another Saturday, another useless attempt at studying.

Sunghoon’s seated at your desk this time, one leg lazily spread, hand bracing his forehead as he tries to focus. But you’re kneeling between his legs, and the moment you reach for his zipper, his entire body tenses.

“You’re insatiable.”

“And?” You tug his pants down just enough to free him, palming his length, watching him harden in your hand as his breathing turns shallow.

He leans back, exhaling sharply when your lips part and you take him deep. His hand finds the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as you swirl your tongue around him, tease him, make him fall apart.

His glasses slip down his nose as he watches you, half-lidded and dazed, jaw slack as you take him deeper, sucking, hollowing your cheeks, making obscene little noises that drive him insane.

He trembles when he finally spills down your throat, groaning your name, head thrown back against the chair.

And the moment he catches his breath, he drags you into his lap, flips you onto the desk, and fucks you stupid.

Case Study #3: Against the Window

Another week. Another “study session.” Another location.

This time, you find yourself pressed against the glass of your dorm window, palms splayed, breath fogging the pane as Sunghoon pounds into you from behind.

The curtains are open.

You don’t know if anyone can see—if someone walking by on the street below can look up and spot your bare body, the lewd way you’re bent over, Sunghoon’s hands gripping your hips as he drives into you with punishing force.

But you don’t care.

All you care about is the way he grunts into your ear, his glasses slightly askew, one hand slipping down to rub your clit, making you jerk and gasp his name as pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave.

“Keep your eyes open,” he growls, voice thick with lust, dragging his lips along your shoulder. “Look outside. Look at what a mess you are.”

Case Study #4: The Shower

It’s late, and you should be asleep. But instead, you’re pressed up against the tiled wall of your tiny dorm shower, water scalding hot, steam curling around you as Sunghoon lifts you up, holds you against him, and fucks you slow, deep.

His glasses are gone, finally.

They’d fogged up the moment he stepped into the shower, and the second you’d made a joke about it, he’d taken them off and set them on the sink. But you don’t miss them too much—not when his mouth is on your throat, sucking bruises into your wet skin, not when his fingers dig into your thighs, keeping you in place as he rolls his hips into you with exquisite precision.

You come twice before you finally stumble out of the shower, exhausted, dripping, completely spent.

And the moment you walk back into your dorm room, still naked, Sunghoon picks up his glasses, slides them back on, and gives you a look that tells you he’s nowhere near finished with you.

Case Study #5: The Floor (Again, Because You Can’t Stop)

At this point, you don’t even make it to the bed.

You’re both desperate, panting, **clawing at each other like you can’t stand the idea of being apart for another second.**The moment Sunghoon pushes you onto the floor, you’re already wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him down, gasping when he fills you in one smooth thrust.

It’s fast, dirty, messy.

He grits out your name, one hand bracing beside your head, the other gripping your thigh, holding you open as he slams into you, pace brutal, relentless. The carpet burns on your back will be worth it.

He loses his glasses at some point, but you don’t even notice—you’re too busy coming apart beneath him, clawing at his back, moaning his name like you’ll never get enough of him.

Maybe you won’t.

Because the second you catch your breath, still tangled up in him, you’re already thinking about where you’ll fuck next.

What surprises you most is how much you enjoy both versions of your time together. The project, which should be tedious, becomes engaging through Sunghoon's perspective. He has a way of finding patterns in chaos that makes even the driest data seem fascinating. And through your influence, he's learning to approach problems more creatively, to see beyond the rigid frameworks he's always relied on.

"What if we visualize it this way instead?" you suggest one Tuesday, sketching a completely unorthodox chart on the margin of his meticulously organized notes.

His initial reaction is skepticism—you can see it in the slight furrow of his brow—but he considers it longer than he would have three weeks ago.

"It's unconventional," he says finally.

"But?"

"But it might actually work better for presenting the correlation," he concedes, and the smile you give him is so bright it makes the student at the next table look over.

In class, Professor Clarke notices the change in both of you. Your questions become more insightful, Sunghoon's responses more animated. When you present your initial findings mid-semester, the professor actually seems impressed by your unusual approach to visualization.

"An interesting methodology," he comments, adjusting his own glasses in a way that reminds you of Sunghoon. "Unorthodox, but effective."

You beam at Sunghoon, who ducks his head slightly but can't hide his pleased expression.

After class, he catches your hand as you're packing up—a gesture he would never have initiated before.

"We make a good team," he says quietly.

"The best," you agree, squeezing his fingers before reluctantly letting go. Public displays still make him slightly uncomfortable, and you respect his boundaries.

-

It's during a rainy Friday evening in your dorm room, six weeks into your relationship (though neither of you has officially labeled it as such), that something shifts again.

You're sprawled on your bed with your laptop, Sunghoon sitting at your desk reviewing your latest statistical findings, his glasses reflecting the blue light of the screen. Classical music plays softly from his phone—another new development. He's been gradually introducing you to his favorite composers, and you've found you actually enjoy the background music while working.

"Your scatterplot is missing a data point," he says, turning to look at you.

"Mmm, probably deleted it accidentally," you reply, not looking up from your position. "Is it important?"

"All data points are important," he says, but there's amusement in his voice rather than criticism.

You roll onto your back, laptop balanced on your stomach. "That sounds like something that would be on a statistics department t-shirt. 'All data points matter.'"

He laughs—a sound that's become less rare but no less thrilling to hear. "I'd wear it."

"Of course you would," you tease. "With your glasses and a pocket protector."

He makes a face at you. "I don't own a pocket protector."

"Yet," you add with a grin.

He shakes his head, turning back to the screen, but you catch the smile he tries to hide. After a moment, he speaks again without looking at you.

"My parents want to meet you."

You sit up so quickly your laptop nearly slides off your stomach. "What?"

Now he turns, his expression a mixture of nervousness and something softer. "I mentioned you during our weekly call. Multiple times, apparently. My mother... noticed."

"You talk about me to your parents?" You can't keep the pleased surprise from your voice.

He adjusts his glasses, a gesture you now recognize as his tell when he's feeling vulnerable. "It seems I do."

"What do you tell them?" You set your laptop aside, giving him your full attention.

"That you're brilliant in ways I'm not. That you see solutions I miss." He pauses. "That you make statistics class the best part of my week."

Your heart does that skipping thing it did the first day Professor Clarke paired you together, only stronger now.

"Sunghoon Park," you say softly, "are you saying I'm statistically significant to you?"

His expression turns serious, though his eyes remain gentle. "With a p-value approaching zero," he replies, and though it's phrased as a joke, his tone makes it clear it's anything but.

In statistics, a p-value approaching zero indicates an extremely high likelihood that an observed effect is real and not due to chance. It's the closest thing to certainty that statistics allows.

You cross the room to where he sits, gently taking his face between your hands. His glasses are slightly smudged, and you resist the urge to clean them, focusing instead on the eyes behind them.

"So," you say, "when do I meet these parents who raised such a statistically significant nerd?"

He laughs, pulling you into his lap in a move that would have seemed impossibly bold from him just weeks ago. "They're visiting next weekend. Dinner on Saturday?"

"I'm there," you promise, sealing it with a kiss.

-

The day of your semester project presentation arrives with an unexpected lack of anxiety. You're prepared—more prepared than you've been for any academic presentation in your life. Partly because the subject has actually become interesting to you, but mostly because working on it meant spending hours with Sunghoon.

You stand beside him at the front of the class, watching him explain your methodology with a confidence that wasn't there at the beginning of the semester. His voice is still quiet, still measured, but there's a strength behind it now, an assurance that comes from truly understanding his material. When he gestures to your creative visualization on the screen, there's a hint of pride in his voice that makes your chest warm.

When it's your turn to present, you catch him watching you with undisguised admiration. You explain the correlations you found between different types of coffee consumption and various academic performance metrics, throwing in jokes that make the class laugh and complex statistical terms that make Professor Clarke nod approvingly.

"And in conclusion," you finish, "we found that while caffeine consumption generally correlates with improved academic performance up to a point, the type of environment in which the coffee is consumed may be an equally significant factor."

"Furthermore," Sunghoon adds, stepping forward to stand beside you, shoulder to shoulder, "we discovered that the companionship variable—whether students studied alone or with others—showed the strongest positive correlation with both satisfaction and performance outcomes."

His eyes meet yours for a brief moment, and you know he's not just talking about the data anymore.

When Professor Clarke gives your presentation an A and commends your "complementary analytical approaches," you resist the urge to high-five Sunghoon in front of everyone. Instead, you wait until you're outside the building, then throw your arms around him in celebration.

To your surprise, he lifts you slightly off the ground in his enthusiasm, spinning once before setting you down, his face flushed with excitement and mild embarrassment at his own uncharacteristic display.

"We did it," he says, adjusting his glasses which were knocked askew by your hug.

"Was there ever any doubt?" you reply, reaching up to straighten them properly. "We're statistically significant, remember?"

His smile softens, and right there on the path outside the statistics building, with students streaming past on their way to other classes, he kisses you without hesitation or self-consciousness.

"What was that for?" you ask when he pulls away, delighted but surprised by the public display.

"I've been collecting data," he says, his eyes crinkling behind those glasses you've grown to love, "and I've formed a hypothesis."

"Oh?" You raise an eyebrow. "And what hypothesis is that, Mr. Park?"

He takes your hand, lacing his fingers through yours as you begin walking toward the coffee shop that's become your place.

"That I'm in love with you," he says simply. "And unlike most statistical conclusions, I'm one hundred percent certain."

You stop walking, turning to face him fully. "That's a bold statistical claim. Absolute certainty is rare in your field."

"I have compelling evidence," he counters, and the confidence in his voice, so different from the hesitant student you met months ago, makes your heart race.

"I might need to review your data," you tease, though your voice catches slightly.

"Extensive observation over time," he begins, stepping closer. "Consistent results across multiple variables. Reproducible effects." His voice drops lower. "Significant positive impact on all quality-of-life metrics."

"Very scientific," you murmur, your hands finding their way to his chest.

"I thought so," he agrees, his eyes serious despite the playful exchange. "So my conclusion stands."

You rise on your tiptoes, pressing your forehead to his. "Well, as someone who's conducted a parallel study, I can confirm your findings. The evidence suggests I'm in love with you too."

His smile, rare and full, lights up his entire face. "Independently verified results. The best kind."

“Should we celebrate this breakthrough with coffee?” you suggest, already knowing his answer.

“I was thinking maybe we skip the coffee today,” he says, surprising you again. “I have other hypotheses I’d like to test.”

“Professor Clarke would be shocked at your dedication to statistical research,” you laugh, letting him lead you in the direction of your dorm instead of the coffee shop.

“Some variables,” he says with newfound confidence, “are worth studying in depth.”

You lean in close, pressing your lips right against the shell of his ear, and whisper the kind of filth that would make even the most shameless person blush.

“Then why don’t you pin me down the second we walk through that door, shove your face between my legs, and eat me so fucking good I forget my own name? And when I can’t take anymore, you’ll flip me over and fuck me like you’re trying to imprint yourself inside me—deep, rough, until I’m crying and drooling on the sheets, too dumb to do anything but take it.”

Sunghoon stops breathing.

You feel the exact moment your words hit him—his entire body locks up, his grip on your wrist tightens, his jaw clenches so hard you swear you hear his teeth grind.

His glasses fog immediately.

A strangled noise escapes him, something between a curse and a choked groan, and then he’s moving.

Not just moving—dragging you, fast, purposeful, like a man on a mission.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath, voice wrecked, dangerous, and it sends a thrill straight through you.

By the time you reach your dorm, he’s already reaching for the door handle, barely keeping himself together, and the second it clicks shut behind you—

You know he’s about to make good on every single word you just whispered.

That, by any metric, was statistically significant indeed.

-

TL: @ziiao @beariegyu @seonhoon @somuchdard @naurwayyyyy @bloomiize @zzhengyu @annybah @ijustwannareadstuff20 @ddolleri @elairah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @kristynaaah @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee @m3wkledreamy @lovelycassy @highway-143 @koizekomi @tiny-shiny @simbabyikeu @cristy-101 @dearestdreamies @enhaverse713586 @cybe4 @starniras @wonuziex

𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓

— gojo x gn!reader | hurt/comfort

warnings: swearing, neglect within a relationship, gojo’s kinda mean & pretty oblivious, reader worries that gojo’s cheating, arguing, ooc gojo (kinda??), slow burn (?), this fic is pretty lengthy

note from heart: i know i said i’d be on a semi-hiatus, but my friend encouraged me to finish it & so i did !! originally, this was gonna be only angst LMFAO but i couldn’t find it in myself to go through the pain of writing just angst so i made it hurt/comfort instead :,)

You and Gojo had been together for three years now. When you both had first met, you guys really hit it off. The connection between the both of you was seamless. Your energies matched well, your touch feeling so warm and comforting against each other, and even your humor was the same. You each were the final puzzle piece that completed the other, and everything was great between the both of you.

Except, as of late, Gojo has been quite distant. His morning kisses turned into groggy ‘good morning’s that then turned into tired hums, and eventually, shifted into disappointed grumbles. Even his touch felt far away. When you went to grab his hand while going out into the city, he immediately would slip his hands into his pockets. On dates, his phone would catch his attention more than you.

Even tonight, the night of your third year anniversary, his mind seemed to be occupied by other things. You had gotten yourself all dressed up, wearing your best clothes, your neck adorned with the necklace he had gifted to you on your one year anniversary. You thought that your little get up would have grasped his attention even in the slightest, but he just seemed so uninterested in anything you said or did.

As you both waited for your waiter to arrive with your meals, you attempted to start a conversation. “So, ‘Toru.. Happy anniver-“ you were cut off by the sound of his phone ringing, his eyes immediately glued to the glowing screen as his hand flew up to silence you. You watched as he answered the call, your heart sinking at the sight of him suddenly beaming with excitement at whoever decided to phone him during your special night together.

“Hey! What’s up? … Oh, nothing, just at some restaurant,” his voice began to trail off in your mind as your head began to swirl with questions and concerns.

‘Oh, nothing, just at some restaurant’.

You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. Now he didn’t even consider the importance of your date? It was cruel- heartbreaking even. If it already didn’t hurt enough that he was being so distant with you, it definitely pained you most that he acted so nonchalantly during your anniversary dinner.

You glanced around, hoping no one inside this pristine restaurant was paying attention to the situation you were in. You prayed no one caught a glimpse of your own boyfriend neglecting you during your night out together. But your prayers were not answered, nor were they heard, when your waiter arrived with full dishes of delectable smelling food that no longer seemed very appetizing to you.

Gojo continued to happily banter with the other person on the line. His entire demeanor changed, and with the concerned glances from your waiter, you knew that this change was drastic. He seemed so bored earlier, but now this call seemed to be the most exciting event during his entire night.

You brought your gaze down, too embarrassed to show your face in this establishment, watching as your food was being plated and listening to the soft chuckles of your boyfriend slipping past his lips. “Okay, okay.. I gotta go, food’s here. I’ll talk to you later,” he spoke, sighing contentedly as he hung up the phone, barely bringing his attention back to your date. The waiter paused, taking a breath before telling you both to enjoy your meal and walking away.

You heard the clinking of silverware, your eyes lifting ever so slightly to watch as Gojo’s hands lifted a fork and knife to begin feasting on the food before him. You cleared your throat, bringing your attention back to your own plate, slowly lifting your own utensils in your own hands. “Who was that, babe?” you asked politely, not wanting to show any signs of your hurting. He shrugs, shoving a piece of steak in his mouth.

“Just my friend,” is all he says.

The rest of your dinner was quiet, small requests given to your waiter who occasionally came by to check on you both and only the sound of the soft music playing throughout the restaurant amongst the quiet chatter of people around you. As you both finished- well, as Gojo finished his food, he looked at you, quirking his eyebrow as he noticed that barely any of your food was missing from the plate. “Not hungry?” he asks, the only time he’s showed any concern within the past few weeks.

His question alone turned your sadness into frustration. How is it that he could go weeks without showing you any sort of affection? How is it that he could act so bored during the entire night? How is it that he was so neglectful towards you up until now?

You set your napkin on the table, calling for your waiter to prepare the check and ignoring your boyfriend’s question just as he ignored your love.

“Why so quiet tonight?” his voiced echoed through the silent drive home. You looked out the window, watching as droplets of rain scattered the glass, a semblance of your tears that you held back the entire night. The dark sky cried for you as you sat quietly in the passenger seat, your knees turned away from him just as your face did to avoid him. You shrugged, giving him no verbal response.

Gojo glanced over at you before bringing his attention back to the road ahead, his eyebrows slightly knit together. “You barely ate, you said like five things, and now you’re being quiet. What’s your deal?”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing at his poorly worded question. “I should be asking you that,” you retorted, still facing away from him. He scoffed, only agitating you more, “What’s that supposed to mean?” But you remained silent, not wanting to argue during this already unbearable ride home.

When you finally arrived home after what seemed like hours, you hurried out of the car, hastily making your way to the entrance of your shared apartment. Gojo followed suit, questioning your actions mentally. He sauntered through the doorway, watching as you hung your bag and coat on the rack and made a bee line to your shared bedroom.

As you entered the bedroom, you shut the door softly behind you, sighing as you made your way into the bathroom. You locked yourself in, sitting on the ledge of the bathtub, finally allowing the tears to cascade down your cheeks. You held a hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs, not wanting your boyfriend to hear your own heartache. Not that it seemed to matter to him anyways.

After you couldn’t bring it in yourself to let anymore tears out, your fingers subconsciously fiddled with the necklace that still hung around your neck. You sat there, replaying the entire night over and over again in your mind.

You remember vividly how bored he seemed, looking everywhere but at you. You remembered how his face lit up when he answered his phone, wondering who it could have been that stole his attention.

As you let the events loop through your head, you began to start piecing things together.

You recalled several weeks ago, when Gojo’s attitude towards you slowly began to change, he had met up with an old classmate for lunch considering they were in town. You remembered that he had been gone for practically the whole day. He left early in the afternoon, and didn’t arrive home til almost three in the morning. Then you remembered him telling you that following week that he was going out again with that same person, this time for a walk through the city to ‘show them what they’ve missed while they were away’. And, yet again, he was gone for the entire day, not coming home to you til very late into the night.

It all made sense. He’d make small comments like ‘Oh, it’s just them’ or ‘Hold on, my friend’s calling, I gotta take this’ or ‘I haven’t seen them in years, y/n’. You’ve never met this person, but you knew that they were a good friend of his so you wanted him to catch up with them and have their little reunion together. But it also worried you because you’ve never met this person. All you knew was that they went to school with your boyfriend and they were extremely close back then.

But who was this person? Were they his ex? Perhaps someone Gojo hooked up with from time to time? Or maybe it was someone Gojo truly loved, and now that they were here he was finally taking his chance to be with them instead of you; the person he settled with.

The thoughts corrupted your mind, the image of your beloved boyfriend of three years betraying you burned in your head. You held your face in your hands, beginning to cry once more as the only words that began to etch into your brain were, ‘His heart belongs to someone else’.

On Gojo’s end though, he looked dumbfounded to see the door of your shared bedroom shut. You always left it open until you both were in there together. He left it, assuming that you’d come out eventually. But, to his avail, his assumption was wrong. He did notice your sudden change in demeanor. You were practically silent the entire night, you didn’t finish your meal- heck, you didn’t even bring home your leftovers- and you wouldn’t look at him during the ride home. What really through him for a loop was your seemingly bitter attitude towards him during the drive home.

No matter what the circumstance, you always made it a point to have a smile on your face around him. You always had something to talk about whether it was something as minor as what songs you recently added to your playlist or something as major as whatever chaos occurred during your work day. From time to time you did have your moments when you shut down or had a change in attitude, but that was only when you were stressed out or if he had done something wrong.

He knew work was actually going well for you, he knew that things in your own personal life were taking an uphill route; he knew that you were content with the way life was treating you. So why were you so cross with him?

Oh.

Because if you weren’t stressed out, you were upset with him.

He decided to give you some space for the time being as he pondered over what he possibly could have done to make you upset. He just couldn’t seem to place his finger on it, and even after what seemed like eternity, he made the decision to meet you in the bedroom to talk things through.

He approached the still closed door, knocking on it softly before entering. “Y/n?” he called out to you, looking around the room in search for you. His eyes landed on the closed bathroom door, hearing faint sniffles behind the wooden door. “Y/n?” he said again, walking towards the door, bringing his hand to the handle only to be stopped when he noticed the knob turning slowly.

As the door opened he was greeted with puffy, red eyes and tear stained cheeks. He noticed your face flush, your eyes dimming at the sight of him. His eyes widened at your current state. He’s never seen you this broken down before. The look in your eyes was void of any emotion, as if you had cried every last bit of feeling you had left. The tears seemed fresh, but they no longer trickled down your face.

Gojo felt his chest tighten, his heart ached at the sight of you- his lover- looking so worn down and sullen. He reached a hand out towards you, only to stiffen when you walked past him, your shoulder brushing against his. He froze, unsure of what to do next. It was at times like this, you’d either stay put and give him a disappointed look or speak your mind. But you ignored him, your presence now cold and no longer warm or welcoming.

He didn’t want to let his nerves overcome him, so he let out a chuckle, taking a quick breath to compose himself. “Seriously, what’s gotten into you?” he asks, turning around to watch as you proceeded to get ready for bed. You remained silent, not even sparing him a glance.

And why would you? After he had neglected you for weeks and then went on to embarrass you on the night of your anniversary? You couldn’t even begin to think of what to say. You felt empty, a hollowness took its place where you heart once rested. You didn’t know what to feel, do, or say at this given moment. As much as you wanted to give him some sort of answer, you simply just couldn’t.

Gojo walked closer to you, now standing across from you as he stood on his side of the bed. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking at you expectantly. “Are you gonna answer or is the rest of our anniversary night going to remain uneventful and boring?” he jokingly said, but to you it was partially a joke. You knew he was bored, and you knew he didn’t care as he somehow remembered your special night together but remained indifferent about the event.

“Y/n, seriously. Can you answer the question?” he asked, his tone far more serious than just a few moments ago. You remained silent, stopping your movements as you stood there with your head down.

“Y/n.”

You looked up, staring at the man you loved. You analyzed his features, searching for any sign of remorse or guilt etched onto his face. You hoped to see the same glimmer of love in his eyes that you saw every single day. But your mind was contaminated with thoughts of him being disloyal to you, and you were left with no discovery of hope.

You inhaled, bringing your gaze down to the soft sheets that your fingers mindlessly brushed over. “What’s gotten into you, Satoru?” you asked quietly knowing that if you spoke any louder, your voice and composure would break.

He laughed lightly again, walking around the corner of the bed to approach you. “Satoru? What happened to ‘Toru?”

You backed away from him, keeping a safe distance between the both of you. Unsure if you trusted the man before you; the man you gave your heart and all your firsts to. You looked up, meeting his confused and slightly irritated gaze. The way his eyebrows knit together showed his confusion and his lips parting slightly as if he were about to speak showed his disbelief.

You could almost laugh at his expression. You could laugh at just how oblivious and un-self aware he is. The fact that he was completely unaware of how he had been treating you amused you in the slightest.

“What happened to my ‘Toru? Where’d he go?” you challenged, your voice still quiet. Your calmness made Gojo feel uneasy. It made something heavy fall to the pit of his stomach. It was his turn to search for any sort of answer in your expression. But he couldn’t seem to read you, he couldn’t seem to solve this puzzle before him. “What do you mean? What’s with all these questions, y/n?” he asked, becoming more and more frustrated as the seconds passed.

He watched as you shook your head, a bitter smile forming on your lips. “What was with you for the past few weeks, Satoru?” you ask again, your voice now just a bit louder. “Your friend comes to visit, and suddenly you don’t care about me anymore? You take your friend out on the town, and suddenly you forget about me?”

His eyes widen, a short laugh falling past his lips. “Is this what you’re upset about? Because I wanted to catch up with an old friend that I haven’t seen in years? Oh, my bad, I’m so sorry I see you every single day of my life and I’m so sorry if I-“

“That’s not what I’m upset about, Satoru,” you interrupt, closing your eyes and turning away from him again. He scoffs, “Then what the hell is it, y/n? It’s our fucking three year anniversary and-“

“Oh, so suddenly you care about our anniversary?” you snap your head to look at him as you finish your question. You watch as he looks at you incredulously, his shoulders shaking from the sarcastic fits of laughter pouring out of his mouth. “What are you talking about? I do care! I remembered it, didn’t I?”

“Remembering it is the bare fucking minimum!” your voice grew louder with each word, just as the anger began to grow inside your body. “If you actually cared, Satoru, you would have acted a little more interested in me tonight. You would have held a conversation with me, you would have paid more attention to me, and you wouldn’t have answered your fucking phone just as I was talking to you!”

You looked up at him, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “Ever since your friend arrived, I wanted nothing more than to let you go and be reunited with them. I wanted you to be happy especially since I knew they were one of your closest friends. But ever since, you’ve pushed me to the side. I’m not asking you to prioritize me, I’m not asking you to not see or talk to your friend, I’m asking you to fucking remember me; to remember the person who gave you their heart! But it just seems like you’re remembering them better than me.”

You watched as his face softens, more confusion cascading over his features. You watched as he opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say.

“What.. What are you saying, y/n?” he asks, his tone more serious and genuine. You don’t hesitate to speak your next words as you face him completely, your eyes never leaving his.

“It seems to me that your heart is remembering someone who isn’t me. You seem so much happier when you talk to them or when you talk about them… I just,” you pause, taking a breath as you bring your gaze down to your feet. “I just feel like your heart belongs to someone else now.”

He lets out a quiet breath, finally allowing himself to breathe after your confession. He stands there, still at a loss for words. His heart begins to ache as he finally brings all the pieces to the puzzle together; as he realizes how much he has neglected you and your relationship.

“I knew it,” you begin, your voice cracking as you shake your head. You close your eyes, letting out a short laugh as tears trickle down your cheeks once again. “I fucking knew it. You could have just broken up with me if your heart belonged to them!”

You pushed past him, opening the closet door to grab a large bag. His eyes follow you and his body moves quickly to stop you as he watches you frantically snatch your clothes and shove them into the bag.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his heart beginning to race as anxiety overwhelms him. You ignore him, continuing to put your belongings into the bag. He grabs your arm, pulling you closer to him. “Stop it.”

But you don’t, and you fight in his embrace. You grab at the arms that engulfed you, desperately trying to get him off of you. “Y/n, stop!” he pleads, trying to soothe you, only to fail as he hears you scream.

“Get the fuck off of me! Get off! I don’t want you touching me!” you cry, hitting at his chest. He shuts his eyes, hoping that he’d somehow wake up from this nightmare he was living in.

You were the only one. You were always the only one. He wanted you, and he needed you. You filled his void, making him feel whole again after the loss of his first love. He found a safe haven in you. He found that, with you, he could finally allow himself to be vulnerable, to show weakness, and to love again. He put his walls down for you, only allowing you to be the one person he let kiss him, hold him, and touch him. He was happiest when he was with you. He found himself again when he met you. You were his, and he was yours and he wanted nothing more than just that.

But now you were begging for him to let you go, shouting at him to release you from his grasp, cursing at him again and again, saying the things he never wanted to hear from you.

“Y/n, please! Please, just-just stop! We can fix this, I can fix this! Please,” he begged, holding you tighter. But you continued to cry, you cried until your fists against his chest were nothing but light taps, until your body fell limp in his arms as you sobbed. “Just let me go so you can be happier with them, Satoru.”

He shook his head, his own tears finally falling, “Don’t… Don’t say that.”

“You don’t want me anymore.”

“Don’t..”

“You don’t care about me.”

“Please… Don’t..”

“You don’t love me anymore.”

Gojo’s shoulders shook as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his tears falling profusely from his eyes. “Don’t say that, y/n. I do.. I do love you,” he sobbed.

He felt a sudden emptiness within his arms. You finally pulled away from him, your glossy eyes looking into his. “Y/n…”

“If you do love me, then act like it, Satoru,” you spoke monotonously despite the fresh droplets of tears that ran down your cheeks. He nodded his head desperately, reaching out for you once again. You backed away from him again, closing yourself off from him which only ached his heart more.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, y/n. I didn’t mean to neglect you or this relationship-“

“But you did,” you interrupted, staring at him sadly. He sighs, “I know.. I know I did, and I shouldn’t have. I got so caught up with my friend being here. I was excited when they told me they were visiting, but my excitement wasn’t an excuse for doing this to you. I don’t know what came over me to have acted that way, but I do know that I love you and only you.”

He looked at you longingly, slowly closing the distance between you. “My heart doesn’t belong to anyone except you. My heart wants you, I want you. Fuck, I need you, y/n. You’re all I ever need, so please.. Please don’t say that I don’t love you, and please don’t leave. I fucked up, but I want to make this better.”

You don’t move, but you look away from him. You stare at the bag that sits partially packed with clothes as you bite the inside of your cheek. Gojo follows your gaze, his teary eyes looking at the bag. But then he looks away, bringing his eyes back to you. “I know I can’t make you stay, but please know that I love you,” he says quietly, defeat laced in his tone.

You pad along the carpeted floors, heading towards where the bag sat. Gojo watched in defeat, thinking that these were his final moments with you, that these three years were now nothing but a memory. But his thoughts were overtaken by shock as you dropped the bag onto the floor. His eyes lit up slightly as he watched you lift the covers of the bed.

You notice his gaze, quickly looking away from him again as you settle yourself into bed. You turn away from him, but you speak quietly.

“Let’s get some rest, Satoru.. I’m exhausted and I’m sure you are too. We’ll finish talking about this in the morning.”

And with that, Gojo hastily got ready for bed. He slipped himself next to you on his side of the bed, noticing that you had already fallen asleep. He saw the tears that stained your cheeks, but despite the guilt that still hovered over him, he couldn’t help but feel relieved to still have you lying next to him.

He falls asleep to your soft snores, his heart and mind relaxing knowing that you’re still close to him.

But the next morning he wakes, his hands naturally reaching over to hold you, only to be met with cold sheets. He sits up in a panic, fear striking his heart as he begins to wonder if you staying was just a dream. He hurries out of bed, beginning his search to look for you. He sees that the bag you had thrown to the ground was gone, only worsening his anxiety.

“No, no.. No, they couldn’t have left. They said we’d talk about this in the morning,” he mumbled to himself, grabbing his phone to look for your contact so that he could call you. But he pauses, hearing the sound of pots of pans gently clanging together, a delicious smelling aroma filling his senses.

He follows the scent to its source, only to find you stirring something in a pan, occasionally moving to the side to toss a few ingredients into a boiling pot. You turn around to see him standing in the doorway.

“Oh, you’re awake. I was gonna wake you when the food was ready, but since you’re here… ‘Toru?” you look at him with concern as you take in his bewildered state.

You had woken up rather early, deciding to slip out of bed. On your way to the bathroom, you tripped over the half packed bag that sat on the floor. You decided to put the clothes you had thrown inside of it back into your closet along with the bag itself.

You took this time you had to yourself during these early hours to cook and ponder over Gojo’s words from last night. You knew you still loved him, and you knew that you would never be able to find it in yourself to stay away from him. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

You turn the stove off before cautiously making your way towards him. You know there’s still much to talk about, but you wanted the both of you to have a meal before delving into something that held a lot of weight on your shoulders.

You open your mouth to speak, but you were suddenly engulfed in his arms. He hid his face in your neck, inhaling your scent as he thanked whatever higher being was out there that you were still here. “I thought you left,” he muttered, making you wrap your arms around him, squeezing him gently. “I didn’t want to.. I need you too, ‘Toru,” you whispered. You felt his body shake slightly, his tears dripping down onto your skin. You closed your eyes, basking in his embrace as you began to cry quietly with him.

“I love you, y/n. I love you so much, please never forget that,” he said, his voice breaking as he lifted his head to look at you. You cupped his cheek, brushing away any stray tears that fell from his eyes. “I love you too, ‘Toru.. But we still have a lot to talk about,” you reply, watching as he nods, nuzzling his face into your hand. You smile softly, pulling away gently to gesture him towards the table before you go back to the stove.

“I’m almost done cooking, so just-“ you were cut off by the feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist from behind. You feel him rest his chin atop your shoulder, and you smile again.

“Wanna stay here,” he says, softly, watching as your hands turn the stove on. “Okay,” you say gently, smiling as you place your free hand over his, beginning to stir the pot with your other hand.

You two stay like this til you finish prepping your meals. Not speaking a word to each other, but feeling each other’s love once more. You missed his touch, and your presence was enough to make Gojo want to shower you with endless love and affection as he did before. At this moment, he wanted nothing more than to keep you close, to mend what was broken and to remind you every second, minute, and hour of all your days that he loved you more than words could describe.

pitfighter vi who promises reader just the tip and then gives her the whole strap🫶🫶🫶

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐏

vi making you take the whole strap

WARNINGS: NONCON! Dead Dove Do Not Eat, virginity loss, coercion, dacryphilia, spit play, implied corruption kink, bulging, be safe, heed warnings!

from roselí. ᡣ𐭩 : i am so in love with this idea omg omg omg— this was supposed to be a drabble and then i got carried away, so the ending is abrupt. ^^

Vi would just be going against her better judgment here, like she usually does about… everything.

"...Are you sure this is what you want, baby?"

She’d asked gently as she leaned down and whispered into your ear, her breath warm as it hit your skin. Vi's hands moved up and down your sides slowly, her body pressed against yours. She let out a something like a huff of a laugh through her nose at your whispered, ‘Yes… But— you remember our promise, right?’ It was something about that, that made you think, maybe you should’ve known better.

She promised a few nights ago that she would indulge your request of losing your virginity. She was close, trusted— you’d had no problem confessing it to her and she’d made you feel comfortable and safe in her presence. You didn’t want to lose it to just anybody, but you wanted to have the experience. “Just the tip.” She’d initially meant it as a joke. Just a lighthearted statement to loosen you up a bit, but she was taken aback when you’d eagarly nodded in agreement, holding her to that statement.

Vi chuckled lowly at you, your nervousness and anticipation was so cute and endearing. She leaned down, her body hovering over yours, her mass pressing you to the matress. She could feel your heart beating fast, it was exciting. She took a moment to relish in this moment, her lips moving down to your neck, kissing and biting at it softly. "You're so cute, you know that?" She whispered against your skin between kisses, gently biting and suckling the sensitive flesh on your neck. You could make out every strand of inky black hair on her head.

“Vi—”

“You’re nervous, huh?”

You swallowed thickly, trying to push down the nerves that were making it hard to breathe. “Yes.”

"Try to relax, it'll feel better." She murmured, finally sitting up straight, gripping the thick— almost daunting strap in her fist. She’d told you she had nothing smaller, that this was all she could offer you. She placed a large palm right above your pussy, pressing firmly to keep your hips still. “Ready for it?” she locked eyes with you, nudging the tip against your clit, slapping it there a few times. You nodded shakily, holding her gaze with anticipation.

“Words.”

“Yes I’m ready…” It came out shaky, like you were riding a bike on a rocky path. She nods curtly, her gaze falling to your pussy, all spread nicely for her. She taps the tip against your clit a few more times, enjoying the way you gasp softly before slowly tilting the tip downwards to your hole.

It started out subtle, a stinging sensation that slowly built up— but it spread quickly as she pushed further, your hole struggling to accommodate to her size. It felt like being ripped open, the girth of it pushing upwards of your blatter. Your back lifted off the bed. “O-ouch!—” You let out a soft yelp, grasping her hip tightly as to keep her grounded there.

"Shhh.. just keep breathing" She replied immediately, feeling you tense and her free hand coming up to push you back down onto the bed. "Just breathe, relax." She whispered, gently kissing along the leg she held up. You tried to do as she instructed, taking deep, shaky breaths, closing your eyes tightly. It was starting to work.

But your relief was short lived, snatched from you as you felt the searing pain of her sliding deeper. “W-wait vi— what are you doing?!” You took the hand you had placed firmly on her hip and pushed, trying your hardest to still her movement. But it was impossible— she was so strong, much moreso than you, your efforts were fruitless. "Shh... calm down, baby.." She whispered softly, trying to sooth you as she held her position for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling. Her free hand moved up to brush against your cheek and gently caress your chest, trying to get you to relax. Her voice was soft and calming, trying her best to comfort you as she felt you getting tense. "Relax. Everything is gonna be alright. I got you. I promise I'll go slow but..I need you to relax, okay? Just breathe…"

“N-no! Vi— you said just the tip!”

"I know, I know... baby, I'm sorry.." She said, her body moving still to hold herself up, one arm propped on the bed beside your head. She looked down at you with an understanding, but also determined look, trying to reassure you. "But you're doing so well for me. You're such a good girl..." She pushed her hips further, firmly this time, watching your expression closely. “Move your hand.” she commanded gently, and when you refused she grabbed it and pinned it your your side. She leaned down and pressed her lips to yours, claiming your lips in a deep and passionate kiss.

She frowned as you turned your head, a childish attempt at avoiding her affection. "Baby, please.." She begged softly, her hand reaching up and gently grabbing your chin, tilting your head back towards her so she would see your face. "Don't do that, look at me, baby. C'mon." Her voice was desperate. Her lips were so close to yours, her body leaning over you, her free hand still caressing your skin. She was aching for your taste again.

When you turned your face away from her a second time, low growl escaped her lips, her grip on your chin tightening. "No. Eyes on me, baby. I said look at me. I want you to look at me, I want to see your pretty face when I'm taking you." She commands, her voice firm yet gentle.

You felt her bottom out, your pelvis throbbing at the feeling. You felt to full, so uncomfortable. It hurt just to slightly move your hips. Tears blur your vision, a mixture of frustration and and betrayal overwhelming you. It felt like she was pressing down on you at all sides— her presence giving you a sick feeling in your tummy.

She started at a slow and steady pace, her hips meeting yours deliberately, one of her hands gently caressing the side of your face to try and sooth you. Her lips began to suck at your neck again, leaving soft, small love bites and hickeys along your skin, marking you as hers. "That's it... you're such a good girl for me, baby.... So so good... and you look so pretty like this. Taking me in... so good for me.." You didn’t bother to try wiping your tears, they would keep flowing anyways.

She took a hand and rubbed your clit meticulously, applying soft pressure. “F-fuck—!” You cursed, hands gripping the sheets tightly. Vi smirked at your reaction, rubbing just a bit faster, “Gotta loosen you up baby, you’re so tight.” She spit onto your pussy. “Relax, princess.”

“I can’t!”

“You can.” You try to bite back the yelps of pain, not wanting to edge her on any further than you already unkowingly have, tucking your lip between your teeth. You keep your eyes squeezed shut, your body rocking with every slam of her hips. "No, sweetness,” She takes her thumb and pulls your lip free. “You’re so pretty when you make little noises for me. Let me hear them, I wanna hear your pretty voice." Her eye contact was daunting and unwavering, it made you nauseous.

Her pace began to pick up a bit more, her hips moving more urgently against you. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air, along with her soft, ragged breaths and your yelps. Her free hand squeezed your hip, her slender fingers digging into the soft flesh. Her mouth came down and began to gently nuzzle your neck, her breath hot against your skin as she pressed messy little kisses along the sensitive flesh there.

“How is it, hm?” She said between kisses, but you chose not to respond. You were focused on the way you could feel you pussy starting to leak, your hole embracing her now. Your body was betraying your mind. “S-shit!” You whimper quietly against your best efforts, but you know she caught it.

She sits back up and you could see the thought cross her mind before she acted on it, her hand reaching down to shove two fingers into your mouth, caressing your tongue with a perverted smirk. "Good girl.... keep those pretty lips open for me, baby..” You could feel the spit sliding down your chin. You felt your pussy throb at her praise, moaning abrubtly at her words. Her thrusts had really been working into you now, nudging your walls with a purpose. It felt good.

That one moan went straight to Vi's core, hearing you sent a shiver down her spine, her pace quickening slightly. She pulled your hips up, into you at new angle, watching in awe as you fell apart. “Hah—hah—” You didn’t even try to stay quiet anymore, her dick hitting your g-spot deliciously. "Yeah.... just like that, baby. Let it out for me.” She stuck two fingers back into your mouth, “Get ‘em nice and wet, babydoll,” Vi groaned lowly as she watched you flick your tongue over her fingers, moving them down to your clit again to rub you. “Feels s’good right, baby? My baby just needed someone to push her past her limits, huh?”

You replied with a string of moans, your feet flailing aimlessly at her thrusts. “Oh, fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” She notices it before you do; the bulge sticking out of your pelvis everytime she bottoms out. “Ohhhhh, fuck me. Look at that, baby.” Her voice pulls you out of your trance, lulling your head up to look at what she was referring to. “Oh my God—” You choke up as she lifts a hand to press on it, “Bet that feels fuckin’ amazing, huh? Getting your guts dug in?”

You can hardly form a sentence, arching your back into the matress; she’s fucking you so good. “Yesss— fuck! S’good!”

“That’s what I like to hear.” She fucks you at a vigorous speed, beating into your g-spot with every thrust. “Cmon, sweetness. I wanna see your cum face.” She spits on your pussy again, taking her fingers and rubbing your clit, fast. “Cmon baby, let go f’me.”

taglist: @opropheticsoul @gravegoer @d3eathnotes @nikaachuuuu @elwerostinky-13 @maiiluvs @sevikasfan @hearrrtfillia @facelesshere @vanillasundaeblob @jannesyjane @bamtorriii @simp-of-the-day @hellokittyfeenie @livingdeddghirl @trizxyp @finefocks @pleasantlyhotgarbage @halle5s @lominaria @xxblairslairxx @croissantime @saturnknows @bloodyskns @theogkqthxrjne @malacrnaruza @softsy @randomperson291 @arevik2345

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just a smol cat communicating with another smol cat ♡

ུᩧ JJK TWITTER LINKS P2 !

৻ꪆ instructions. before clicking, you must be logged into your acc and have twitter open in order for these links to function .

TOJI FUSHIGURO. ꒱‎

passenger princess. ⋆ putting you to bed with no complaints. ⋆ he’s got that good fucking dick. ⋆ putting you in a mating press. ⋆ giving toji a sloppy bj. ⋆ using you as his fuck toy.

CHOSO KAMO. ꒱‎

he’s such a dumb puppy. ⋆ his favorite gamer girl. ⋆ bottoming out n cumming. ⋆ choso spooning you. ⋆ straddling his lap. ⋆ fucking you on his gaming table. ⋆ how he wakes you up.

NANAMI KENTO. ꒱‎

prettily sucking dick. ⋆ pathetically grinding on his boot. ⋆ nanami with a hidden oral fixation. ⋆ smacking your backside. ⋆ cowgirl ver of ‘you’re just a girl.’ ⋆ riding him in cute lingerie.

GOJO SATORU. ꒱‎

kinky shit with gojo. ⋆ going down on him. ⋆ fucking your holes. ⋆ reversed cowgirl. ⋆ doggy with the bear he got you. ⋆ bouncing on his dick. ⋆ delicious backshots. ⋆ fucking you in a maid costume.

GETO SUGURU. ꒱‎

satisfying ghostface with your tongue. ⋆ messy deepthroat. ⋆ fucking in his car. ⋆ gun kink. ⋆ he’s got you chained up. ⋆ such a squishy ass. ⋆ hitting it on them janky ass seats. ⋆ riding him.

mha guys caught stalking your socials.

INCLUDES: KATSUKI BAKUGO, SHOTO TODOROKI, EJIRO KIRISHIMA

SUMMARY: while in class you notice a certain person looking through your socials, and I mean every social platform possible. looking at every post down your first, so you decide to confront them.

WARNINGS: implied gender neutral reader, vulgar language

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS OPEN!!

WORDS: 5.4K

KATSUKI BAKUGO

•his face becomes so pale

• he’s so embarrassed that he becomes angry that you caught him in the act.

It was the middle of your recess before it was time to resume back to regular classes. You were trying to buy something from the vending machine downstairs but forgot your wallet at your desk.

In a hurry, you walk back to classroom 1-A to get your things. Walking in you noticed that Bakugo was the only one in the classroom.

A slight smirk plastered on his lips, watching him scroll relentlessly over and over. Sometimes he would stop and pause, clicking a couple of more times until he scrolled again.

You didn’t want to disturb him, he looked so content with life at the moment. You made sure you quietly got your wallet from your desk.

As you walked towards the back exit of the class, you near Bakugo. You wondered to yourself what’s got him smiling like this until you see it.

He was on Instagram, looking at photos of you.

And he was far down your page…at least a year's worth of posts.

You’d seen a selfie you took in front of a cat cafe with one of your guy friends you haven’t spoken to in a while due to him going to different schools.

“who the hell are you?” He quietly grumbled.

Tapping his phone, your tagged list popped up. Quickly slamming his thumb on his account, he starts to scroll fast through his posts as well.

Letting out a quick snort, bakugo smiles to himself. “Of course, he fuckin’ goes to school there…” he snorts. That was obviously a jab at him, he seemed to be jealous of him and he doesn’t even know the guy.

Before he could fixate on his “competition,” he saw a notification pop up. It was a rather late notification that you updated your story.

he has post notifications on for your account?

Quickly clicking your icon, bakugo paused before he loudly sucks his teeth together.

“What the hell?”

It was a photo of you and your desk neighbor Sero, posing goofily in class. Around 30 minutes before recess began, Sero with his hand on top of your head and a middle finger shown on the other.

He read the caption on your story: “FUCK PHYSICS -sero #eviltwin”

The story flashed quick before Bakugo took a screenshot of it. His breath started to quicken, you could tell he was pissed. Quickly opening his dms, he clicks on Sero’s account.

“What the fuck is evil twin?” He spits.

Sending the photo, bakugo begins to type:

‘WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU’

‘DIDN’T I SAY NOT TO TOUCH THEM?’

‘I’m gonna beat your ass at lunch’

‘meet me at the bottom of the staircase at B hall NOW’

‘what the hell is even an evil twin? ARE YOU GUYS TOGETHER OR SOMETHING?’

‘oh I’m gonna light your ass up’

Bakugo’s thumbs move so fast, spamming Sero with such ease and vigor. You see that Sero leaves him on seen, and you’d honestly do the same.

Typing out a ‘HELLO?’, bakugo starts to grumble. You start to feel heat bounce off of him, standing back you decide to make an exit.

But before you could even move your feet, bakugo jumps up from his seat and whips around. His eyes stare at the ground dart up to your soft eyes.

Words caught in his throat, Bakugo’s eyes widen.

Bakugo, shoots back in shock. He couldn’t even process your presence before he stumbled back into his seat with a loud slam. Startling you, you try and reach out to help him but he held out his hand and pops a spark making you shriek.

“are you okay?” You asked.

“How long have you been fucking standing there?” He yelled. His cheeks dusted pink as he screamed in your face.

stammering, you start to rub your fists together. Your palms were sweaty as you grew nervous.

“a-about 5 minutes or so!” you yelled.

“are you fuckin’ serious?” He groans, his hands shooting to his eyes as he rubs them in embarrassment.

“I-I’m sorry, okay? I was just coming in here to get my wallet for the vending machine and I saw you on your phone and I was just gonna do a quick little peak and then you just so happen to be stalking my account and-“

“Like hell would I ever stalk you!” He exclaimed, just flat-out lying.

This takes you aback, “so are we gonna sit here and pretend that you didn’t just curse out Sero because you’re jealous of him touching me?” You laughed.

Bakugo grew quiet, crossing your arms you let out a smug smile.

“Y’know, instead of parading around orders and making threats to people about not touching me like I’m your property. Maybe you should try and—I don’t know, make a fucking move?” You say.

A long beat of silence goes by.

You eye Bakugo down, his lips quiver. His chest heaving, as his face was red from embarrassment. Only his blonde spikes of hair were covering up the evidence of that.

You frown at him, maybe you were too harsh.

“Bakugo-“

Shooting up from his seat, he raced towards the door. The bell rang, signaling that recess is finally over.

Your lips were slightly agape, as you were still trying to process what just happened. You couldn’t even revel in the moment before your classmates walked in.

One by one they all get seated, settling in as they place out their textbooks for the next subject to be taught.

You didn’t realize how long you were standing there until you looked around and saw that everyone was seated, except for bakugo and sero.

The bell rang, signaling that it was time to continue classes.

“Is there a problem, “L/n?” Your teacher Aizawa voices.

You open your mouth to speak, but the heavy stomps of shoes cut you off once more. Looking at the doorway, you see Sero. Breathing heavily like he just ran for his life, his necktie untucked and a scuff mark on his cheek.

“Sorry, I’m late sensei!” Breathing heavily, you saw him lock eyes with you for a brief moment before walking past you, almost ignoring your existence.

Frowning to yourself you speak, “no sir.”

Talking quick paces to your seat, you sit down, huffing your breath you face towards Sero.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

Sero ignored you for a moment, cursing under his breath he then turned to you. “All good! Just worry about yourself kay?” He says. A fake smile was plastered all over his face.

Your bottom lip pokes out, you knew he was lying.

Turning towards the board, you gather your things and set up for the lesson. Writing some things down on your paper, your phone buzzes.

Picking it up, you notice that someone requested to talk to you on Instagram. Opening it, you read the account name.

@katsuki_lordexplosionmurder

you hesitated for a moment before opening it up.

‘sorry for blowing up on you back there’

‘you don’t have to respond to this, you have every right not to’

‘I fucking like you okay? Like a lot

‘please forgive me…’

letting out a sigh you start to type back:

‘apologize to Sero first, then we can talk’

Bakugo quickly reads your message, a long minute passes by before he responds ‘k.’

still shitty as ever, even in an apology...

around a day or so passes by before the both of you ever talk again. You’d see each other in class or around school, but you wouldn’t give as much as a side glance. Even tho Bakugo would be eyeing you down to where it felt like you thought you were naked.

You talked to Sero about if Bakugo apologized to him, which he said that he did a day ago. So why hasn’t he come to you yet?

It was a new day, and the bell just rang for recess. You decided to stay in your seat for today, scrolling through the nothingness of social media. You paused for a moment, turning slightly, you look back to see that Bakugo wasn’t in his seat.

Turning back you let out a deep exhale. You scrolled some more, growing comfortable in the silent classroom.

Liking a random picture you start to think of Bakugo again. Opening your dms, you mindlessly tap Bakugo’s account.

You wanted to say something, you just didn’t know what to say. Your thumbs hover over the screen, you were too scared to type. You felt that if you typed one single character that the world would crumble and the sky would fall.

Huffing out a breath you turn your screen off, as it fades to black. You notice a pair of amber eyes staring into the screen.

Eyes widening, you lean closer.

“Bakugo?” You whispered.

“Doesn’t feel good being watched does it?” His voice booms through the room. You jump, startled by his deep voice.

You see Bakugo let out a quick chuckle before sitting down in Sero’s seat.

“Bakugo, don’t scare me like that!-“

“After what you did to me? You were beggin’ for it” he jumps in.

A moment of silence goes by…

“Listen-“

“I get it if you don’t want to talk to me again…” Bakugo admits.

“It’s just—I’ve never felt this way about someone, okay? I like you a lot, and I want you to be mines. These people out here aren’t right for you, I wanna the only guy! You’re right I am jealous, I mean- who wouldn’t be? look at you!” Bakugo stammers.

You looked into his eyes for a moment, letting out a smirk as you turn toward him.

“After classes” you grin.

“What?” His head slightly turned in confusion.

“After classes…I’ll give you chance for you to show me that you’re the right guy” you bit your bottom lip, nervous for his reply.

Bakugo is still for a moment before showing his signature devilish grin, “shit.”

“It’s a date?” You asked innocently, extending your hand out to shake you smile at him. He looks down at your hand, quickly taking your hand he softly shakes it.

“It’s a date”

SHOTO TODOROKI

• surprisingly upfront with it

• what’s he got to hide?

At first, you caught him secretly going through your tik tok. Sitting behind him in class you would see your face on the screen as you lip-synced, danced, or talked.

Each video he would save and scroll past another one. Which made you grow uncomfortable.

Then he realized that he didn’t do it just to you but he did it with everyone else’s posts. This made you let down your guard a little.

I mean, who doesn’t stalk their friends from time to time? It’s good to see what your friends are doing within their “inner,” social media lives.

So you let it go.

You continued being friends with Todoroki, as he had no idea you knew he stalked him on social media. You went on and everything went normal.

Until one night you received a notification on Instagram.

‘@shoto has followed you!’

Looking at the notification, you thought nothing of it. Turning into your bed, you began to rest your eyes. Falling deeply into slumber, you were jolted away by the buzz of your photo.

A tired groan passes your lips, turning over you soak your hand down onto the nightstand. Patting around you find the familiar texture of your phone brush against your fingertips.

Letting out a sigh, you flip your phone over. Eyes hooded, closing completely as your screen flashes you. Quickly blinking, you adjust to the lighting of the screen.

“Another notification from Instagram?” You muffled into your pillow. Opening it, you see that Todoroki liked your most recent photo of you.

Another notification pops up on the top of your screen:

@shoto has commented on your post!:

@shoto: beautiful.

Was this a mistake?

You couldn’t believe your eyes, this must be a good dream because no way could this ever be reality.

Then it happened again, another notification on a post from a week ago. Tapping your screen at the speed of light, heat rises to your cheeks.

It was a photo of you holding up your favorite figurine you just bought with your savings. The caption read: ‘I GOT IT YES BITCHES!!’

@shoto: lol

@shoto: so cute

He must be on drugs, or maybe he was hit with a flirtatious quirk? Wide awake, you sit up in your bed. Blankets once covering your body slid off as the cold air of the room hugs your body.

Posture terrible, you bend down eyeing the screen. Neck extended and eyes wide, as you received another notification.

It was a video of you and your friend holding hands, walking at a festival. Laughing like happy idiots.

Another comment from Todoroki appears.

@shoto: should’ve been me holding your hand :(

Your mouth shoots agape, you quickly took a screenshot of the comment.

You genuinely could not process what was happening at the moment. Snapping your head towards your alarm clock it read 10 PM, you let out a sigh.

At least you have time to fall back asleep.

You sent the screenshot to your friends, pleading for advice. But you knew everyone was asleep due to how strenuous the hero drills were this evening.

You quickly place your phone on “do not disturb’” mode. Shutting your phone off you place it back on your nightstand with a “plop”. Smashing your face into the pillow, you let out a much-needed loud sigh.

‘Is he being hacked right now?’

‘He has to be getting hacked.’

‘There’s no way on earth Todorok would be saying this to me!’

It would take about another hour or two of tossing and turning before you were able to fall asleep again.

The room started to feel hotter than usual, stirring in your bed your eyes open. You were too tired for this right now. Slipping out of the covers, you walk over to your fan, turning it onto the highest setting. You huff out a breath and turn back around, only to be stopped dead in your tracks.

“can’t handle the heat?

eyes snapping wide, you whip over to the deep voice you heard.

"Todoroki!" you screamed, your body still from shock. you see him in the bed, under the covers, a smug smirk cast over his lips.

"what are you doing here, you're not allowed in anyone else's dorm past 8pm-"

"why not? you're scared someone will catch us?" he asks, ripping the blankets off your bed as he gets up. his body moving closer towards yours, you still couldn't even move due to the amount of shock.

looking into his multi-colored eyes, your mouth parted, "h-how did you even get in here?" you whispered. feeling a warm hand grip your waist, you jump, startled by the sudden touch of his hand.

"don't touch me there!" you whimpered.

your face looking towards the ground as you cower in embarrassment, this earns a chuckle from todoroki's lips. Leaning in closer, his other hand grabs your face softly.

"look at me," he says. voice stern yet soft, you shyly look up. eyes hooded and breath jagged. you shakily set your arms around his shoulders.

"you're mine" he whispers as he slowly leans in. you gasp at his words, biting your lips to begin to lean in as well.

your eyes close, as soon as you know it. the smoldering warmth you felt faded as you were shaken by the airy coldness of your dorm. eyes shooting open, you turn over to look at your alarm clock.

8:45AM!

you're late for class!

once you finished jumping around and getting yourself together, you dashed out of your dorm with a loud slam of the door. running across the courtyard and into the academic side of the school, running up the grand stairs and long halls. you finally make it to the class.

out of breath, you crash into your seat and bang your head against the desk.

"you're late today l/n, especially on count day, marking you down an extra five points." your teacher Aizawa speaks. You couldn't even mutter a complaint because you were so tired.

as the day went on, you couldn't stop staring at the back of todoroki's head. that was the dirtiest dream you ever had...

soon it was time for hero training, today the student just needed to focus on themselves and build their quirk.

you were looking at todoroki the whole time, and when you weren't, he would look at you.

you can't shake what you experienced last night, even if it was just a dream, it felt so real...

you talked to your best friend Jiro, as she was also suspicious of todoroki's new confidence, she was just as shocked as you were when you showed her all of the comments and messages he left you.

"let him come to you," she said.

"no, go after him! guys like it when a woman's in charge!" sero says.

"I think you just need to wait it out, let the future take its course and the universe will work it out..." says hakakure.

you decided to take hakakure's advice.

as the rest of the day went on, the sun falls and the day was still into another dark night. here you were once again, preparing to fall asleep as you wrapped yourself in your blankets. kinda hoping to have the same dream you had the night before.

growing comfortable with the silence, your phone buzzed.

eyes opening you reach out for your phone, turning it on you see that todoroki commented on your story. opening the notification transports you to your dms.

the story was just a photo of half of your face, eyes tired as it was around 30 minutes after you ran late from class today.

you finally start to read the message, word for word your heart falls to the bottom of your feet. the comment sends you into a frenzy.

@shoto: you look so tired but you're still so pretty.

that's it.

jumping out of your bed you read the clock, 10:45. it's well past curfew but you didn't care. if todoroki didn't care in his dreams, neither do you.

putting on your house shoes you race out the door.

after one elevator ride and a long walk down the hall, you arrive at the front of his door. you were about to knock on his door until you realized you were actually there.

what were you even going to say? hey I had a dream we made out in my room and I want you to stay out of my dreams and my dms? Yeah.

hands-on top of your head, you let out a quiet sigh. "shit, here goes nothing." stepping for award, you place three quick knocks on his door, staring at his name plate on the door, you gulp.

hearing some shuffling, you look down and see the lights switch on past the crack of the door. blinking, you wait anxiously. another moment passes by until the door knob starts to jiggle.

biting your lip, the door swings open. appearing a more laid-back todoroki that you've ever seen. his hair is a little messy from laying in the bed and all he has on is pajama shorts and a white t-shirt.

his eyes shift onto you, his eyes widen only a little. as a soft smirk is shown on his face. "l/n...w-what are you doing here?" Todoroki stuttered.

if you didn't mistake yourself, he almost sounded flustered to you.

"um, I just wanted to talk to you about something if that's alright. I know it's past curfew and I really shouldn't be here but I can't wait any longer" you say, a sigh passed by your lips.

Todoroki leans out the door, looking left and right, then to the security camera a door down. Quickly, he grabs you by the arm and gently pulls you into his room.

you close the door with a quiet thud, turning around you look around todoroki's dorm. it's so...empty?

the modern Japanese-style room was very much his style, he didn't really have any posters or figurines you could base any of his interests on. but that conversation is for another day.

kneeling down on the ground, you sit on your feet. hands placed on your lap, your face was unreadable. you were nervous yet so excited.

you were in todoroki's room, alone, after curfew.

"what did you want to talk about" todoroki's voice was soft. looking around you grew nervous, "well...I wanted to talk about you, and how you've been stalking my socials...and stuff? I don't know" every word you spoke grew quieter and quieter.

balling your hands into fists, you look down at the floor.

"stalking? I don't understand" he says, a frown present on his lips.

"but you do!" you blurt, your hands flung in the air which causes todoroki to jump back. you gasp, slapping your hand on your lips, you close your eyes in embarrassment. hands slowly shifting from your mouth rest on top of your eyes. "but you do todoroki," you quietly groaned out.

"the late-night notifications! do you know I get those? I see you flirt with me and compliment me and all that other stuff, I caught you almost halfway down my profile the other day todoroki."

hands still covering your face, if they were uncovered you would see the priceless pink blush dusting across todoroki's face.

"I'm...I'm sorry, I didn't know you could see that...I thought I could like and comment on things anonymously...apologies."

uncovering your eyes, you notice todoroki slightly bows, the blush still on his face. You quietly scoff, "who told you that you can anonymously comment and like things on Instagram?" you asked.

"Denki told me, he helped me set up my account as well-"

a groan escapes your lips as your body slowly sinks to a bow. "I'm going to fucking kill him!" your yell is muffled by the floor. Rising up again you frown at todoroki.

"Just...I know now that it's not your fault and you really don't know any better, but could you please stop?" you say.

"I don't understand why I should, everything that I said about you is true, I meant it l/n. I think you're so beautiful and-"

"please! I can't handle you doing all of this because if this keeps on going I'll have more dreams about you!" you yell.

"you dream about me?" todoroki asks, his voice filled with hope and adoration.

"what!" you grow warm in the face at this. stumbling up from your feet, you race for the door. Quickly opening it, you turn, giving a respective bow you quietly shut the door behind you.

Todoroki hears your quick stomps and the ringing of the elevator.

a moment passes by, smiling to himself he plops himself down into his bed.

staring at the ceiling he lets out a smug smirk.

"bullseye."

EJIRO KIRISHIMA

• was happily chilling in class looking at your tik tok until denki catches him in the act.

• was very embarrassed, but you fount it absolutely adorable.

It was another regular day inside UA, class 1-A. Everyone talking whilst doing their assignments, slowly reaching the goal of becoming the next generation of top pro heroes.

And within this class, there are the slackers.

And that slacker is Kirishima.

Slouched down in his seat, his phone hidden under his desk as he scrolled relentlessly through your tik tok. Hypnotized by your every act.

Sometimes he would chuckle to himself, seeing how cute you were. Whether that be you should dance with one of your classmates. Or seeing the way you sing your heart out at one of your favorite songs.

You were everything to him.

It was an accidental infatuation, really.

One day you so happened to pop up on his for you page. Surprised, he curiously went through your page.

All 500 hundred posts to be exact. Every. Single. One.

He didn’t mean to really, he just was so amazed by you. Sometimes the people you see on a regular daily basis aren’t who they actually are.

You were more confident in yourself on your page. You were bold, loud, and funny, he never saw this side of you. Maybe in a sparring battle, but that’s only the tip of the iceberg.

Sometimes when he’s hanging out with Sero, he’ll show him a tik tok of you (from a year ago that he saved) and just go off and fawn over you. Which heavily irritated Sero.

“Look at the way they’re dancing, isn’t it cute?”

“Dude, did you know l/n had their hairs died red before they came to this school? We could’ve totally matched!”

“Have you seen l/n’s new post? It’s amazing!”

It was fine at first, Sero gets it. He’s got a crush, but now it was all he’d talk about when they’d hang out.

“Dude, why did l/n make a tik tok about having a crush on a guy in our class!” Kirishima exclaims, a worried expression plastered on his face.

“If you want them, go get 'em instead of blabbering to me about it!” He’d complain.

Kirishima rolls his eyes as he swings back and forth on Sero’s hammock. “Dude, they’d never go for me.”

Sero strummed a couple of notes on his guitar, “if you won’t tell them you like them, at least tell them you look at their tik tok all day~” Sero sarcastically sings, making a little jingle out of his rude statement.

Kirishima’s swinging comes to a halt.

God, you don’t even know he knows you have an account.

Kirishima does follow you, but on a new account, he just made up that kinda looks like a bot you’re too lazy to remove, so you just keep it.

Swallowing his spit he sits up from the hammock, “if l/n ever found out that I have their tik tok, I will off myself.”

And here we bring it back to present day.

You just posted an hour ago on tik tok.

You were doing some random hand dance with Mina at lunch. He’d watch the way you’d laugh when you or Mina would mess up. The multiple takes and the fit of laughter.

He loved the video so much, he found it so organic and personal. Like he was actually there across from the table. He smiles at the screen watching it over again.

His smile faltered only a little when he gets another notification that you posted something.

Quickly pressing the notification, Kirishima’s heart stops.

He didn’t know what song was playing, and what words you were singing. But you looked HOT.

You had an entirely new look. You transitioned from regular pajamas to a whole other cooler outfit. Kirishima bends lower into his desk, making sure that only his eyes get to get to lay on your beauty.

Kirishima likes and saves your post with the quickness. He didn’t care if he was the first ever to interact with your post. At least you know he’s not some bot.

As Kirishima soulfully enjoyed the video you posted, Denki finally walks into class. An hour late.

A scold here and there from Mr. Aizawa, and he reaches his seat. Falling down with a thud he greets his next-door seat buddy.

“What’s up, man! Dude, I couldn’t sleep last night until the early morning and then my alarm didn’t go off! I just said fuck it and took my time today” Denki vents, a defeated smile portrayed on his lips.

Looking at his friend, he noticed how hunched up he is in his seat. “Dude?” Denki says, still no reply.

Kirishima was so deep into thought whilst watching the video of you. He started to think about his deepest fantasies.

What if you sang to him like the way you sang in your tik toks? What if the both of you were a couple?

He’d imagine the dates he would take you on, the way you smile, the way you laughed, it was all worth it at the end of the day.

He’d imagine how he’d kiss you and how you’d kiss him. Arms tightly wrapped around your waist as you sat in his lap, going at it for hours until your lips were swollen and you couldn’t give away anymore more breath.

This makes Kirishima’s breath hitch, what other things would you guys do?

What if you guys were a couple until graduation? He would definitely propose to you. Imagine the wedding the both of you would plan. The reception would be beautiful.

Kirishima really started to melt when he imagines the honeymoon. He wanted to go somewhere warm and tropical, maybe the Bahamas or the Maldives. He thinks you would like the Maldives, as he would too.

A blush castes over his face as he still watches the video of you over and over again. He’d imagine the night of your honeymoon.

Can he give you children? He thought.

If you can’t, he’ll find a way that night–

“Dude!”

Kirishima jumps harshly at the loud voice that called his name.

Denki buffs out a breath, Kirishima sees Denki standing from his seat as he surrounded Kirishima.

“I’ve been calling you for the last, like, 3 minutes!” He exclaimed.

“S-sorry man, j-just deep into thought” Kirishima says. A blush was still present on his face.

“Whatever, anyways as I was saying–“ Denki sits in his chair, his eyes so happen to shoot down towards Kirishima’s phone.

Denki paused at this, a devilish grin showing on his face. “No fucking way dude! You were stalking l/n’s page!” Denki exclaims, laughing enough for everyone to hear.

“Kaminari! Detention!” Aizawa barks.

Denki didn’t even care, a smile still on his face he starts to laugh.

“Dude!” Kirishima grows red at the loud announcement Denki makes, sinking into his seat he covers his head.

“What is he doing?” A voice says.

Kirishima’s eyes shoot wide, looking behind him he blinks. Two seats behind him he noticed you, leaving out the aisle in confusion.

“L/n! Get up, get up, get up! Kirishima’s stalking your freakin tik tok!” Denki laughs. Your bottom lips was pursed out, you were still confused as to what was happening as you slowly gained height out of your seat.

You were walking towards him, oh god.

Kirishima was so embarrassed that his hands were on his face the whole time. He didn’t even realize that his phone was on his desk still playing the video you posted over and over again.

Placing your hands on the two desks behind Kirishima and Denki, you crouch down. “What’s going on?” You say, you were also quiet. As he would assume no one really knows of your tik tok like that but him and a select few.

“Kirishima stalks your!–“ before he could finish, you slapped your hand on top of his mouth. “Quietly!” You whispered.

Uncovering your hand Denki leans down into your ear, telling you about how Kirishima was watching a tik tok of you over and over again. Looking over you eye Kirishima down.

Kirishima swallows his spit as he uncovers his face, the red blush still painted on his face like red roses sprawled out within a garden.

“H-here” he trembles. Reaching for his phone he extends it to you. With a fierce snatch, you scroll through your tik tok, seeing that he at least liked or saved all of your most recent posts. You didn’t even want to know how far this goes down.

You scrolled some more until you stopped on a particular post. “You’ve seen this one, Kirishima?” You asked. Holding the phone out, he leans in staring at the screen.

“Y-yes” he stuttered.

It was the tik tok of you talking about you having a crush on a guy in your class. Letting out a sigh, you stand back up.

“You wanna know who it is?” You say. Kirishima pursed up at your question, his head shaking with a shy nod.

Smiling you reach down, closing the space between the both of you. You grab the back of his neck, which makes Kirishima let out a jagged breath.

Falling close to his ear, you whispered.

“You really wanna know?” You teased.

You could hear Kirishima swallow his spit hard, and he nods again. “Yes—I do” he whispers.

“It’s you.”

Kirishima’s eyes snap wide open, snapping his neck towards your face, he sees you let out a giggle. He shoots up from his seat. Walking backward he stumbled out of the classroom.

Before you could chase him out, you hear a loud thud.

“Kirishima just passed out!” You hear Momo shout.

If Kirishima died today…

He’d die a happy man.

Omg, guys, thank you all so much for all the support and new follows!!! I just saw my post show up third on one of the Bakugo hashtags! And some of my posts were recommended under others. I’m so happy right now.

– lovelyiida<3

I guess you fell in to the wrong hands

Bonten trio x Detective! Reader

༄ Sanzu x reader, Ran x reader, Rindo x reader

One wrong move lands you in the back of Bonten's limousine, at the mercy of the very gangsters you were chasing.

ㅤ— Warnings. AFAB reader, NON.CON to DUB.CON to NON.CON again, noncon creampie, oral (m. & f. Receiving), rough s3x, forced breeding, blindfold, bondage, gun play, throat fvcking, degradation, edging, dacryphilia, overstimulation, cervix kissing, choking, tummy bulge, foursome lmao, praise, facial, mindbreak, mean Sanzu and Rindo :(

ㅤ— WC. 3.8k (I think I got carried away)

ㅤ— minors don't interact. This work contains dark content, please heed all the warnings before proceeding.

ㅤ— Note. This is my first time writing DC lmao. And they've a limousine because I said so.

#tags. @festive @s-zu @manjiken @bbytamaki

Reblogs and interactions are appreciated!

To say that the mission had gone wrong would be an understatement because this is the worst possible outcome.

"Cat got your tongue?" A large hand fists your hair and you've to crane your head back to minimise the sting,"C'mon, Detective." The tape around your lips is snatched free, a hiss leaving your now free mouth. As soon as you part your lips, the nozzle of a gun is pressed up cold under your chin

"Scream n' I blow your brains out." The man- Rindo, warns. Your jaw clenched tightly, fists balled up behind your back with Rindo's tie binding your wrists. Your knees ached from kneeling on the floor of what looked to be the back of their limousine.

Rindo harshly claims your lips, pushing away whatever thoughts you were having. His hand cups the back of your head, making you unable to break the kiss. So, you bite down on his lip. Hard. The action has him reeling back with a grunt, red tainting his lips and purple locks swaying.

A gun pokes at your temple,"Ran," The gun eases up but is still present,"It's alright." Wiping away the blood with his thumb, Rindo stares down at you,"I like 'em a bit feisty."

"You're lucky he's in the mood to play." Blue eyes blink up at you, a smirk pulling at the twin scars on his lips,"Or you'd already have a bullet in your head."

The clank of a belt pulls your attention in front. Rindo fists his cock, rubbing the tip on your lips,"No biting." Ran presses his finger on the trigger for assertion. Lips pressed tightly, you refused to give in. His fingers pinched your nose, having your jaw fall in reflex to gather oxygen.

His brother shoved his cock in your mouth with a chuckle. Rindo gasped as he felt how warm your mouth is around him, eyes closing with a content sigh,"Oh Detective, yer' s'good at this." He's bucking his hips into your face and manoeuvering your head to meet his movements simultaneously.

Your eye twitched in indignation, teeth threatening to scrape at his veiny length but the gun his brother held made you drop that plan.

Rindo, meanwhile, is ecstatic. Seeing the funky little detective on her knees in front of him and sucking on his dick just made him throb. You'd been such a difficult one, throwing a good fight, he's got a nasty bruise on his abdomen, just under his ribs to prove that. But fucking your mouth like this is worth it,"Fuck-"

Fingers tighten around your hair when he hits the back of your throat. A choked moan breaks through your occupied mouth, muffled but managing to make Sanzu and Ran's pants tight nonetheless.

"Ngh, not gonna last long." Purple hair sticks to his forehead as he grits out in between groans. His thrusts become erratic, fucking your face roughly till spurts of hot cum fills your mouth. Rindo holds your head down on his dick,"Swallow." And he doesn't let go till he feels you gulp around his cock. Shamefully, you feel your panties dampen from having your throat fucked so roughly.

A moan slipping past his lips as he pulls out. You're leaning forward, lungs pumping in much needed air before a hand grabs your jaw and pulls your face up. A pair of lips crash on yours. Tongue intruding your mouth to savour what's left of Rindo's taste.

Eyes screwed shut, you try to stay still as the wet muscle roams your cavern, jaw aching in his grip. A few long seconds later, when he pulls away you lock eyes with erratic blue ones. Sanzu smirks down at you,"You taste like him."

Rindo scoffs and you can detect a playful tone in the sound. You're suddenly pushed forward by a hand pressing on your shoulder. Face tumbling between the pink haired man's thighs, you feel someone grop your ass,"Just unwrap her already."

Ran laughs, a breathy sound which you hate to admit made your pussy clench. Panic kicks in when your pants are yanked down all the way before deft fingers danced at the hem of your panties,"Hm? You're wet?" The pad of his finger slides over the wet patch of your underwear, pressing teasingly.

Shaking your head, you pant heavily, resting your cheek on Sanzu's thigh. The said man chuckled,"Then how 'bout this?" Cupping your cheeks he tilts your face up to meet his gaze,"We play a game and if you win, we let ya' go."

Head dizzy from the harsh treatment from the younger Haitani, you don't think twice before agreeing. Without listening to the wager. Cursing yourself a few moments later as you lay on one of the seats of the long car, hands tied up with Rindo's belt now, readjusted above your head.

Rindo's tie serving as a makeshift blindfold around your eyes while the cold nozzle of a gun trailed down your skin, clothes laying on the floor.

A whimper escapes you when the gun digs into your cheek. Ran's condescending coo echoing near your ear. The nozzle is soon nudging your lips before gliding past with aid of the drool glistening on them, courtesy of Rindo.

The gun fucked your mouth, soaking the metal in your spit before pulling away,"Who was that, Detective?" Rindo's voice is a distant purr, probably because he's draped on the opposite seat. Biting your lip, you ponder a bit,"Ran."

"Wrong." You can hear the smugness in Rindo's voice but your angry train of thoughts are cut short when the gun is back on your skin. The wet nozzle is cold on your torso, trailing down your stomach before teasingly pressing against your panties. Your knees are torn open to allow the gun to continue on its path.

A finger pushed your soaked panties to the side, dragging the nozzle on your slit. You gasp, breathless at the contact. A yelp tears through your mouth when the gun pushes past your entrance, your warm walls clamping around the cold metal,"Oh, look how you're ruining the gun."

Sanzu rasps, entranced by the way the gun is coated in your juices as it's pulled out before slamming in roughly. Your pathetic moans embarrass you while they only aided in arousing the lurching men in the car.

The filthy scene of having a gangster's gun bullying into your pussy and oh- the went sounds that keep flooding in, you can't help but moan. Biting your lip, you try to subdue the sounds but it's so difficult when the hard weapon is thrusting inside you so harshly.

Your toes curl and hips twitch as you near an unexpected, unwanted orgasm. But just as your walls clench, the gun's gone. Taunting chuckles erupt around the space before Rindo asks,"Who just fucked your slutty cunt with the gun?"

The ruined orgasm spiked irritation in your veins. Through the haze, you tried to think. When Ran spoke, it was Sanzu. So this time it must be,"Ran."

"You seem to want my brother an awful lot, Detective." Rindo clicks his tongue,"Sanzu, why don't ya' show her who just fucked her with the gun?"

A drop of perspiration trickling down your neck, the wager was, the winner gets whatever they want. Naoto had warned you that a single slip up can prove to be life threatening. That these were very dangerous people.

But now that you're here, under their prying eyes, your body's second guessing if you wanna leave. Or maybe it's just your arousal talking.

Your closing legs are spread open by a gentle palm,"Before you ruin her, I'mma have a taste." Ran husks, lips pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh.

Your blindfold is yanked down, the tie loosely pooling around your neck as Sanzu filled your vision. His mouth falling on your tits, sucking and teasing the hard buds,"You'll watch." Sanzu mumbles into your skin,"You'll watch everything we do." A hand squeezes your plump flesh harshly to accentuate his words.

The short purple haired man in turn settles between your legs. Tongue pressed flat on your clit, he hums,"S'sweet." A wet suckling had blood pooling at your cheeks,"You're getting off on this, eh?" Rindo leans forward and smirks at your half lidded eyes.

A far way from the prestigious officer of law who had kicked him not even an hour ago. Your tummy flutters, the metaphorical coil tightening at his jeers. Your tied wrists are held in position by Sanzu's huge hand, discouraging any movement.

Light pink strands dragged along the valley of your breasts with Sanzu coating your nipples with his spit and biting. Your shoulders roll in the testament of pain but the jolts of pleasure from your pussy makes your back arch. You could feel Sanzu smirk against your skin but you're too busy whimpering for them to form a retort.

Ran moans as he swipes his tongue across your slit, dipping the tip in between your warm folds. His purple hair brushes soft between your thighs when he buries his face into your cunt. Nails digging into your palms, you try to bite back on your moans but Sanzu and Ran's mouths on your skin made it difficult.

Your eyes squeeze shut as Ran's nose nudges against the hood of your clit. Lilac eyes watch you gush on the older Haitani's tongue, who devours you with loud slurping noises.

"'Nough now." Legs shaking as you pant breathless, coming down from the high while Sanzu pushed Ran away from you,"Gunna' show this bitch that yer' too soft to fuck her with a gun," A hasty rustle is heard with Ran's chuckle just before Sanzu smears the tip of his cock against your glistening pussy lips,"Like I did."

He's bottoming out in a hard flick, uncaring about the scream that you let out as he stretched your walls without any real prep,"Oh- oh fuck," Digging tiny crescents on your thighs, he grips them unceremoniously. It burned, hurt but your body welcomed the pain, your mind reeling from the overwhelming sensation.

Your hands rose in protest, to push away at his chest but Ran's long fingers caught them, shoving them back on top of your head. With a smirk, he watched you struggle against their hold. His large hand draped over your mouth to subdue your screams,"Shhh," Soft lips press to your temple, a seemingly soft gesture but you should know better.

"Look a'her. She's still got some fight left in her." Rindo muses, resting his elbows on his knees. Sanzu pulls out all the way just to slam his cock back in,"Guess I'll just have to fuck the fight outta her then." Deep grunts rattle his chest as he feels your pussy wrap tightly around his length,"Ah you're s'fucking tight," The criminal moans above you, fucking you like a wild animal,"This is the best pussy I've ever had mhn," He's gulping when you thrash under him.

The sadistic glint in his blue eyes has you whimpering and his cock bullying into your overestimated cunt wasn't helping,"Please," You beg,"'tis too much- ah!" Sanzu's hands press your knees up to your chest, folding you in half to go deeper. The new angle pulled shrill cries from your throat because his tip was knocking at your cervix,"Sanzu!"

Tears streaming down your eyes, you plea for mercy but the man above you has this twisted grin, fucking you harder,"Haru." Ran coos, trailing his index finger down your cheek, a deep satiated sparkle in his beautiful purple orbs,"Call him Haru."

Lower lip trembling, you do as advised, his name rolling sweetly on your tongue. His jaw clenches taut,"Fuck," His name sounds so tempting laced in your voice,"Haru, Haru, Haru-" You choke up, stumbling his name in a prayer as your cunt spasms around his dick. Yet he still drills into your ever tightening hole with vigour, fucking you through your unwanted orgasm.

Thrusts grew erratic as he neared his release, muttering curses under his breath,"Not inside her." Hesitantly, he pulled out his cock at Rindo's order, fist wrapping around the head to jerk ferociously,"Not yet at least." The hint at the unsaid words made him smirk through his high, releasing ropes of white semen on your cunt and thighs,

"Oh, look at this," Sanzu laughs, exchanging places with Ran to grip a handful of your hair,"Made such a mess on my cock," Manoeuvering your face to the side, he's pressing his cock against your lips,"Clean it up, whore."

Ran grabs your boobs, squeezing the soft plush before humping his cock head on your entrance,"You ready for me, doll?" He's nicer than the other two in slowly pumping his cock inside your hole, giving you time to adjust while Sanzu's cock lay heavy on your tongue,"Use that tongue," He yanks at your hair harshly,

"Fucking do it, slut." Swirling your tongue around his glistening cock, you wince at the mixture of your and his taste,"Oh, just like that, ah." His groans made you clench around Ran's dick and he laughed,"For someone who's an officer of law, you sure seem to enjoy being fucked by criminals."

He rocks against your abused cunt a little, testing if the aftershocks of your previous high has subdued. You moan softly around Sanzu's cock and he's pulling out to not overestimate himself,"Maybe we should take her to Mikey."

"D'ya think of anything other than Mikey?" Ran grunts, teasing the man with scars but there's a hint of frustration in his tone.

A hand slithers around your neck, fingers pressing against the air columns dangerously,"Eyes on me now, dollface." The sickly sweet smile on his lips, a sharp contrast to his malicious gaze. One deep thrust and your head is thrown back, toes curling in from how deep he is inside you,"Still so tight,"

He's longer than Sanzu, filling you so nicely that you don't even remember why you were fighting against them,"Even after Haru fucked you, hm?" Ran moans and the sound made your pussy clench,"Looks like I'll just have to fuck you better, yeah?" You're heaving shallow puffs of hot breath, too lost to answer. But the question wasn't meant for you because Ran's eyes flicked to meet the other man's blue ones who scoffed at the words.

"Wow." Rindo's voice snaps the men from their stare. He moves, leering over your body beside Sanzu in an instant while you squirm under his brother. Following his brother's gaze, Ran's eyes land on your form, whistling once he noticed the outline of his cock under the skin of your belly,"Holy shit,"

Sanu smirks at the sight as Rindo presses his warm palm down on the bulge. Ran stills inside you, gripping your hips tightly to avoid cumming right there like a damn teenager. You though, are wailing from the slight pain,"Please, Ran,"

The men smirk, you finally fell for Ran's trick,"As you wish, my pretty doll." Pulling you up by the grip he had on your throat, his mouth clashes against yours. His tongue picks up hits of your sweet taste on your tongue mixed with Sanzu's. Pulling you on his lap as he sits back on the seat, Ran moves your body on his dick with ease, your smaller frame just acting the purpose of a rag doll for his pleasure.

Your bound wrists rested behind his shoulders, arms around his neck as you kissed him back,"She sure likes you, Ran." Sanzu snickers, palm striking at your ass hard. You cry into the kiss from the impact,"Shh," A buck of his hips up to yours had you falling back into moans for him,"I got you."

A thumb prods at the tight puckered hole,"No!" Ran is quick to shush you,"It's alright," His hand gently cages your breasts. Sanzu snickers behind you,"We don't have lube anyway." One last slap on your stinging ass and you're pressing harder against Ran's body. Trailing his fingers down your curves, he drapes his palm on the small of your back.

Purple orbs urge you to ride him at your pace,"Such a good doll for me," He smirks when you pump yourself full of his cock with each thrust,"Doing s'good for me, hm?" The hand on your breast is busy teasing the nipple, his mouth paying attention to the other,"Ran," You sultry moan would've shocked you if you were in the right state of mind,"Gonna cum,"

"Then go ahead n' cream on my cock, doll." His sweet tone is triumphed by his brother's biting one. Rindo's hand wraps around your neck as it slides around your shoulder,"Moaning like a whore for my brother."

Ran's chuckle fans breezy on your breast, his lips still wrapped around your nipple as he feels you clench around his cock at his brother's harsh words,"Fucking cum on his cock, slut." Rindo snaked his other hand around your waist, fingers finding your puffy clit, pinching roughly.

Your nails dug on his brother's shoulders, a wail dragging on your tongue as your orgasm ripped through every fiber of your body,"Oh- oh fuck," Ran held your hips, moving them to ride you through your high before he's pulling you off his throbbing cock. Rindo pushes you down on your knees, in between Ran's legs, hand holding your jaw up to face his older brother

"Tongue out." Dizzy and tired, your mouth falls open, tongue drooling on your lower lip. Your eyes focus on Ran's face, brows furrowed in pleasure and mouth forming a small 'O'. His hand fisted his cock, jerking faster till he's cumming with a moan, thick spurts of cum shooting on face, falling on your tongue and on your cheeks.

"What a messy slut you are, Detective L/N." Rindo turns your face to his. Smirking sadistically when he notices the lost look in your eyes. His thumb pushes the bit of cum at the corner of your lips inside your mouth,"Maybe I should fuck you like you deserve." You're pushed down on the floor of the car, face flush against the carpet, ass raised.

Rindo smacks your ass before thrusting his dick inside your used pussy,"Still tight, ah-" He chokes up on his groan as he buries balls deep in your cunt,"We should keep her." You recognize Sanzu's voice barely above your own moans,"She's already ours,"Aren't ya', doll?" You're too dumb to do anything but moan with Rindo fucking you into the floor. A hand gripping tight on your hair yanked you up to face Ran's devilishly handsome face,"Answer him, whore."

Tears slip down your cheeks, mingling with Ran's sticky cum at the jolts of pain at your scalp. The Haitani knelt in front of you, taking your burning face in his huge palms,"You belong to us now." Thumb pressing on your lower lip, he pulled your mouth open. His brother's hips slammed into yours with such force that your body shuddered, eyelids dropping heavy. A hot globe of wetness hit your tongue with a 'putah'.

Fingers pressed into your cheeks, near the corners of your mouth to push your mouth close,"Got it?" You saw the darkness in his eyes as you swallow his spit. Managing out a mushed "yes" Between moans, you try to hold yourself up on shaky arms. Your knees scraped on the carpet with each ruthless thrust from Rindo. You're nearing another orgasm even after the ones you just had.

Rindo's fingers tangle in your strands, pulling hard to make you cry out,"That's it, whore." Ran's hand is around your throat now, tight and unyielding,"I can feel you clamping down on me. You're about to cum, aren't you?"

"Again?" Sanzu sneers, grabbing your cheek to hurl you towards him. Tilting his head to kiss your mouth, he groans upon catching a taste of Ran,"What a pathetic slut."

Rindo is grunting, purple and black strands falling in front of his eyes as he nears his own precipice,"Maybe I should cum inside you, a gift from Bonten." Eyes shooting wide open, you struggle under the three men's hold but to no avail,"Please, no-" Ran is pressing his lips to the shell of your ear,"Shh, it's alright," He's hushing you down but you don't fall for it this time,"No, anything but that, please Rindo- oh!" A hand sneaked around to play with your clit,"Won't you be a good girl for me, doll?"

Sanzu scoffs in mockery,"She's not your good girl, Ran." Digging his fingers in your cheeks, he spits in your mouth,"She's our dirty whore," Icy blue eyes observe as you gulp down his gift in a panicked frenzy,"Right, Rin?"

"Yeah," Said man growls, pressing the pads of his fingers on your clit, rubbing tight circles to pull sweet sounds from your unwilling lips,"Fuck, you're clenching me s'tightly, fuck." You try to beg him but his cock hitting that spot inside you again and again had your vision spotting and mind going blank,"Fucking stop complaining and take what I'm giving ya'."

Your head falls forward in Sanzu's hands as Rindo's thrusts tip you over the edge. You recognize his distant grunts through the ringing in your ears,"Cumming-" Panic blooms in your chest again once you hear his words,"No, please, not inside!" Sanzu claims your noisy mouth, muffling all complains,"Fucking take it, detective." Rindo's voice breaks as he starts cumming, painting your walls white,"Take it all," He's pumping inside you with sloppy thrusts. You sob against Sanzu's mouth, his tongue assaulting your mouth.

"I think she did pretty well." Ran chirps,"Took all three of us like a good doll." You collapse on his lap, his thigh pillowing your head. His fingers move the locks of hair sticking to your sweaty forehead and something that seemed to be akin to adoration in his eyes.

Two fingers are plugged in your soiled cunt after Rindo pulled out his softening cock,"Couldn't have you wasting your parting gift, now, can we?" He's gathering the drops of his cum trickling down your thighs and pushing them in your fluttering pussy,"What a greedy fucking whore." Sanzu whistles when you moan at the feel of Rindo's fingers thrusting slowly inside your hole,"What would your partner say if he saw you like this, being our cumdump, huh?" Your glassy eyes and trembling lips only made the younger Haitani chuckle.

"Who am I kidding, you're already ours."

2021 © all content belongs to @novaresque . Do not repost my work anywhere.

lmao so im completely shameless and a sucker for physical intimacy so ive been thinkin abt darling just having childe or kaeya sit on the floor while theyre in a chair and them just. slinging their legs over his shoulders as they do other work ?? they meant it as a friendly gesture to make him happy but also he might b drooling when they gently press their thighs against his head -💉

Slight NS_FT

No, because this ask has completely rotted my brain… Kaeya and Childe are such prevs they’d turn the most innocent of actions into fantasy material… little gross men </3

Warnings: Yandere, GN! reader, God! reader, talks of religion, obsessive behavior/mindset, mentions of murder/death (by thighs/legs), perv! Childe, perv! Kaeya, masochistic tendencies? (especially on Childe’s part), implied sub!character x dom!reader dynamics,

The rest of the ask is under the read more!

— Kaeya

You’d only called for Kaeya’s assistance since Lisa wasn’t around to help you like she normally would; you were in the library just looking for some books to pass time – being under constant surveillance by some of the most protective people in Teyvat often led to your activities being restricted for your “safety”.

He’d been more than happy to drop what he was doing (which honestly was him preparing to go bother Diluc for the afternoon) to come to your aid. He’d teased you a bit, joking about how much you needed him - probably to try and distract from the obvious blush in his face the longer he spent time with you - but eventually helped you find some books about Teyvat’s mythology and history, both subjects that has greatly interested you since long before arriving.

He insists you read yourself, saying something amongst the lines of “I’m too tired, but if you want - I’m more than happy to listen to you reading it for me” though you’re inclined to believe he simply wanted the chance to silently stare at you, a guess that came from the fact that current that was exactly what he was doing.

You found it weird that he didn’t seem to sit down, opting to stand tall and proud beside you, you’d insisted he take the seat beside you but he refused - that is, until you gesture to one of the pillows on the ground, one that found itself laying just between your legs and the plush chair your rested upon.

“Why don’t you sit there if you’ve got such a problem with chairs?” It was partially a joke, you didn’t think he’d rather sit on the ground than an actual chair, and a last ditch attempt to have him sit down somewhere (because heaven knows how much it stressed you out to see him just standing there on the side, didn’t his feet hurt? Wasn’t his back tired? He’d been there unmoving for at least half an hour), you didn’t think he’d silently take the seat beneath your own and sweetly smile up at you.

“Probably the best seat in the house,” he muses, looking around between your legs as his eye twinkled with admiration while he stared at your shocked expression, “come on, you invited me over - don’t tell me you didn’t mean it?”

“Haha, very funny, Sir Kaeya.” You roll your eyes, hiding your face into the book - hoping the cover would be enough to hide the embarrassed look in your face - it’s not your fault he makes you flustered.

He simply laughs, finding your newfound embarrassment amusing, and lets his head hit the edge of the cushioned seat almost touching your skin, as if afraid of defiling you with his touch - “I’m not bothering you, am I?” He asks, his eyes closed, realizing he might be taking too much space for your legs to properly rest.

“Hmm, not really,” you think, your legs were a bit cramped up from earlier, you look down upon the man sitting beneath you, “but it’s fixable.”

You test the waters and let your legs rest upon his shoulders before simply letting them drape over his upper body - he doesn’t react much, simply stiffening at the contact before slowly relaxing - “You don’t mind, do you?” You tease, ready to move your legs in case he asks you to.

“N-not at all.” He coughs into his hand and it’s your turn to be amused at his sudden shyness; did you hear it right? Had Kaeya, the Kaeya Alberich, just stuttered? You go to remove your legs, shocked at the realization, but his hands shoot up to grasp at your thighs; “Don’t! I… I mean, you don’t have to, I’m fine… unless you want to, then it’s… fine too.”

You smile slightly, but opt not to tease him too much - not when you feel him hesitantly lay his cheeks against your skin, caressing your legs with such tenderness you struggle to believe this is the same man who’d slaughtered hundreds of his people, your eyes visibly saddened at the idea.

What a troubled soul, you muse while letting your body limp against him, you remember all you’d heard about his past and lore and your heart aches and so you make a promise to yourself to try and spend more time with him.

If only you knew, that while you worried and pondered over his past - the Cavalry Captain was all but drooling over the way your legs squeezed his cheeks. You would be surprised at how hard it was to contain the moan itching to rise from his throat when he felt your legs first find his body, if he could - he’d turn around and kiss your feet, let his hands wander your sacred skin while he proclaimed how grateful he was for you and your love, but he didn’t want to ruin such a peaceful moment. All you had to do was squeeze your legs and decide to restrict his airflow with your thighs and he’d be a goner, dead - no longer alive, but he didn’t mind at all - he’d rather die at your hands (legs) than die any other way, he wants to laugh at the thought.

His heart was beating a thousand miles an hour, he could hardly contain the excitement crawling all over his body the longer his skin touched yours. It felt electrifying, a buzz stronger than even Dawn’s Winery’s finest alcohol couldn’t compare to. If anyone looked at him, they’d think he was edging himself just by the lewd look that took over his handsome features.

For now, he’d keep these thoughts to himself - simply hoping you’d been so kind as to help him later with his little problem, courtesy of your unknown effects on the Khaenri’ahn.

….

— Childe

Your time in Liyue was coming to an end, you’d soon be embarking on the Crux to visit the Raiden Shogun and her region, Inazuma, which meant the last few days had been hectic as Zhongli and other residents of Liyue attempted to make the most of your time there before you left.

You’d managed to sneak off and find yourself some time, your head was pounding and your legs ache after hours of nonstop walking, you had originally meant for it to be just yourself - a well deserved break after the last torturous days - but it doesn’t take long for the Snezhnayan diplomat, Ajax, to find you - much to your… in reality, you were too sleepy and tired to try and feel annoyed or irritated.

“Ended up running away, huh?” He laughs, making his way towards you - your figure was almost completely hidden by an oversized blanket in the cushioned chair you laid upon, “You should be more careful, you almost had Lady Ningguang send out a search party for you.”

“Mmhm?” You groan, you vaguely acknowledge his words - your body was exhausted and your mind felt like soft putty; you just wanted to sleep and not wake up for the following week or two.

“They really ran you out…” He muses, a pitiful look takes over his face as he assesses your fatigued state, “Care to make some room?”

He originally meant for you to scoot over so he could cuddle you, it was basically a death wish - if Xiao or Scaramouche found him snuggled up to your sleeping he would probably end up dead and floating in the shore of Liyue Harbor by dawn, but it seems like your position is too comfortable or you’re just too sleepy to properly consider better options and instead, you part your legs and nudge him over to sit on the floor between them.

“‘ere.” You lazily motion, before flopping your head against the plush chair once more.

He can’t even tease you, his face is red at the implications - did you have no idea how… how perverted you were making him feel? He knew you probably had no secondary or lewd intentions but you couldn’t just do that and expect him to be okay! Still - he isn’t complaining, he’d dreamed of being in between your legs (in all ways imaginable) for embarrassingly long (to the point he’s sure if Zhongli knew he’d be banned from Liyue), and he only stumbles slightly on his feet as he makes his way to lean between your legs.

“Better than any pillow Mora could buy,” he groans, letting his cheeks meet your thighs, he looks up at your face - you looked so cute, sleepy and yawning, “so nice and kind, letting me rest like this… you’ll make them jealous, you know?”

His fingers trail your skin, taking note of how delicate it felt against his worn out gloves.

You don’t acknowledge his words, your journey into unconsciousness must have been swift, only tightening your grip on his cheeks in your slumber.

“… !” He feels more blood rush to his cheeks, his eyes involuntarily roll back at the feeling of your skin on his as your legs apply a pleasurable amount of pressure against his face - fuck, he wished Zhongli would walk in, so he could rub it in his face.

His hands go to rest on your legs, almost as if begging you to stay there or squeeze him tighter - kill him, he truly wouldn’t mind going like this, but it seems he was too careless and you’re startled awake by his sudden and rough touch.

“A-Ajax? …! Are you okay I didn’t -!”

“Of course not,” he breathes, trying to hide how much he enjoyed the location and situation he found himself in, “you should rest, I’ll keep watch so they don’t bother you.”

“But don’t you want a pillow or to move somewhere more comfortable?” You ask, afraid you’d hurt him and slightly embarrassed at the predicament.

“No, it’s okay,” he laughs, never once parting his cheeks from your thighs “if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” you reassure, thinking for a second before smiling down at him, “t-thank you for keeping an eye out.”

“Now, don’t worry and rest,” he smiles, patting your legs and you take it as a sign to head back to sleep - you’d need to make the most of any shut eye you could get in the next couple of hours, “to help you like this… is my pleasure.”

And it really is.

VIOLET TWT LINKS

INCLUDES— wlw, making out, usage of strap, clit play, breast/nipple play, fingering, finger sucking, grinding, pussy slaps, groping, spanking, cunnilingus.

WARNINGS—21 links, all of these videos are for afab readers, don't like don't read/watch, make sure to be logged into twt/x beforehand, if some of the links stop working please lmk !

making out with vi

vi rubbing your clit

vi finger fucking her fem gf

being pinned down by vi as she sucks on your tongue

pussy spanks from vi

vi playing with your pretty tits

vi making love to you

slicking vi's fingers up with your mouth

fucking yourself on her juicy strap

vi playing with her gfs pretty pussy

she loves your tits pt2

being noisy while vi has her mouth on your cunt

vi forcing you to ride her thigh until you come

pitfighter!vi taking her frustration out on you after losing her latest match

vi letting her pretty girl grind on her

vi taking care of your needy pussy with her strap

more boob lover vi agenda

she knows just how to eat her girl out

she doesn't care that you've already come twice, she'll keep going until you're shaking

vi groping your butt

more of vi loving on your boobies + teasing your pussy

ffiolette

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── as the last woman on earth, a government bounty marks you as humanity’s only hope for repopulation. unexpectedly, stumbling into your college football team becomes your lifeline, but instead of turning you in, they want to impregnate you on their own terms.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── you're now reading . . . 𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 + 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 with isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, barou shoei, kunigami rensuke, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro & mikage reo

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── fem!reader, mentions of sexism in medicine, gangbang, breeding, cunninlingus, unprotected s*x, mild degradation, reader gets spanked once, mentions of food, mentions of babies, mentions of pregnancy, reverse harem, reader gets kidnapped, creampies, double penetration, nipple play, mentions of viral outbreaks, home isolation, mentions of human torture and experimentation, apocalypse AU, dark content ahead (10k+ words i am sick in the head)

⇤flip back to the pervtober masterlist

One thing about life you were coming to find out in your short existence, was that it could change in the blink of an eye.

One day, you’re a popular cheerleader everyone loves, on the Dean’s List and speeding through to a life of accolades and financial stability, then the next, a viral outbreak spirals out of control, infecting and offing only women. 

It started with rapid coughing and sneezing. Many expert scientists cited a woman's inferior immune system compared to men. They barely paid any attention to the growing casualties in one half of the population, just like how they turned a blind eye to PCOS or the persistent chronic pain most women seemed to experience throughout their lives. 

As the voices of one half went unheard, the dire consequences slapped mankind fully in the face. 

Birth rates dropped, many nations lost their manpower and society became increasingly violent and hostile. 

Those women that were left were transferred to medical facilities under the guise of rehabilitating them. But, there were the rumours of abuse and medical experiments that arose from shady forums and chat groups. 

You had read some of them from Jienna’s laptop when she was still alive.

Your best friend and roommate was an advocate for women’s rights, even before the world hadn’t gone to shit, and she was the first one who opened your eyes to the blatant mistreatment women were going through official medical channels. When the virus hit, the both of you huddled in your shared dormitory, trading packets of ramen and stories while waiting for more aid to come. 

She always had such a bright smile and determination. The day the virus took her away from you was one you could never forget. 

Jienna laid on her bed, a grey pallor overtaking her once radiant skin. The skincare she religiously applied was gathering dust on her dresser, and everytime she exhaled, it sounded coarser and coarser.

Eventually, she closed her eyes and never awoke again, and you had to page the medical team to extract her body, all while tears streamed down your cheeks and you were hovering on the edge of a full meltdown.

Your family across the country couldn’t even come and see you; your brothers were barred from taking you back home, as every woman in the district was given strict orders to remain at home and behind locked doors to keep the virus away. 

But, it always managed to slip through the cracks. Whether it was from infected food or contaminated medical equipment. 

The virus killed any female it touched.

News reports began surfacing that hens were dying out, impacting the supply of eggs. Cows were dropping dead in fields, the world’s milk supply running dry for the first time in existence. The pregnant black cat you used to feed behind your dorms was found dead behind a dumpster by a group of computer science boys. 

Slowly, the world descended into chaos, and more and more women were disappearing.

It was exactly day 40 of your lockdown when you decided you would run away.

Packing every non-perishable canned food you could find into a big bag, you waited until dusk fell and when the nurses would hand you your dinner. You knew it would be one of the older security guys who used to direct parking on your campus, and he had a bad hip so he couldn’t chase you down. 

As much as you hated hurting him, the first punch in his face was enough to knock him out cold. You hopped over his body, careening down the hallway and pushing yourself towards the outside of the college campus. 

Luck was on your side when you dashed out the front door to find an idle truck. It was from one of the block rangers, and you didn’t hesitate to jump inside of it, revving the engine and stepping down on the gas pedal. 

Someone yelled out your name, but you were too fired up to care. In your mind, you decided it would be better to die from the virus than staying cooped up for the rest of your life. At least with dying, you would be free. 

You had no plan and no idea what to do next but to race towards the closest abandoned building you could find. Jienna had told you about it during her dying days—how there was a series of abandoned buildings just at the edge of town where defiant women stayed the last of their days there. 

Having seen with your own eyes what the virus did to your roommate, you were sure you were prepared to go out the same way. There would be a few days where your immune system fought back, but without the right food and care, you would waste yourself away.

Better than being trapped forever in a small dorm. You viciously gunned the engine and raced towards that shining beacon of hope. 

The buildings out of town were abandoned like Jienna said, and you prepared to set up your death camp. The concrete slab walls were drab and the floor was too hard and cold to sleep on, but you made do with a blanket you managed to steal from the lobby. 

Days passed and soon, you were starting to wonder if the virus was even real. Your meals consisted of canned beans and whatever scraps you could find in the dumpster nearby. You didn’t dare to light a fire in case it might attract someone’s attention, and your showers were virtually non-existent.

Maybe I shouldn’t have left the dorms. 

Those thoughts of ‘what if’ and ‘should haves’ kept you up at night and haunted your waking moments. 

One day, you thought you heard footsteps echoing down the hallways, but then, you found out it was just a bunch of squatters looking for a place to sleep. They turned their nose up on the squalor and left you alone feeling bemused and a little disappointed that not even the lowest rank of humanity would want to spend a night at a place you consistently slept in. 

But, your newfound freedom was too good to be true.

It had been too quiet and too peaceful. The bubble was waiting to pop and your hopes burst one day when you awoke in cold sweat to hear a man’s voice down the hallways.

“... heard she escaped here…” 

“Are you sure?” 

The fatigue weighing you down shot out of your system and you sat up ramrod straight, rushing to get your goods without making a sound. 

“No news of… gotta be the last one in the vicinity…” 

You hurriedly stuffed your blanket into your backpack, taking care not to breathe too loud in case they might hear. The beam of a flashlight pricked your irises, and having lived for a while in the dark, you weren’t used to such brightness.

Squinting, you stayed close to the walls, slinging your bag onto your shoulders and preparing to depart down a flight of steps straight into the forest fringing these buildings. Your flexibility as a cheerleader back in your old life helped you out to creep on the floors quietly, extending one leg and then another while keeping close to the walls. 

However, you didn’t see where your foot landed, and before you could stop in mid-step, the empty can of beans went clattering to the ground.

For a split second, all you could hear was your breath and the rush of blood in your ears.

The beam of light immediately swung towards your direction, illuminating your left leg and the implicated empty can in question. 

Shit. You had been discovered.

“Wait!” One of the men yelled, but you didn’t stop to listen. Hightailing it out of here, you sprinted to the entrance, about to escape into the night when you felt a bigger body slam into you from the side. 

Screaming out, you barely caught a glimpse of your perpetrator, but he was holding you down with his larger body, pinning you right to the dirty ground.

“Got her!” he yelled back to other men. “It’s a girl! She’s here!” 

You blindly reached your hand out and felt the sharp edge of a rock cut into your palm. Swinging it towards him, you bashed the side of his head, and in the glimpses of light from the shining moon up ahead, you caught sight of his vivid, dark hair. 

The man yelped and stumbled back, staunching the heavy flow of blood oozing from his right cheek.

“Fuck!” he bellowed, and you used his momentum of shock to push him off of you. 

But, he had enough dexterity to clamp a hand around your knee, bringing you back down to the ground. 

“No!” you started to scream and sob. “Please! Let me go!” 

Someone else came to his rescue, holding you down. You felt ropes around your wrists, drawing them behind your back. Your sobs were muffled by a bag thrown over your head, and for good measure, they tied your ankles, too. It took two of them to carry you into a car, and you were laid on someone’s lap, his arms roping around you and pressing you to his chest. 

As the men piled back into the car, you started to sob when you heard the engine ignite. 

“Ssh, it’s okay,” the man who held you crooned. “It’s gonna be fine, Y/N.” 

Through your tears, you recognized that they knew your name. 

A hand touched your knee, rubbing it soothingly. “We’re not here to hurt you.”

That voice. You had heard it before. It brought to mind dark blue eyes and a mop of dark hair. A pair of toned legs tearing through a football field and a charming, lopsided smile.

“I-Isagi?” 

He hummed. “It’s me, Y/N. Barou’s holding you, by the way.” 

In answer, the self-proclaimed king of the field back from when your college days consisted of study horrors and not a world crisis, flooded your mind with stark familiarity when he exhaled out your name. 

“Hey, Y/N.” 

“It’s the boys from the football team,” Isagi informed you, like you were on a road trip with them instead of forcefully being kidnapped against your own will. 

“H-how did you find me?” The bag they stuffed over your head smelled musty, and you struggled to talk through it. “C-can you get this fucking thing off my head?” 

Someone pried the sack off, and you inhaled in deep gusts of air, your wide eyes taking in the darkened interior of this truck and the boys who were holding you hostage. 

Isagi had lost a bit of weight since you last saw him. The last you heard of the Blue Lock team’s co-captain was that he had lost his mother to the virus and the school had started a fund for him to cover her funeral expenses. Turning your eyes towards the man who was holding you, Barou’s jaw was tight, and his eyes were heavy with dark circles.

The man driving was Kunigami, whose hands were white-knuckled fists on the steering wheel. Next to him in the passenger, bleeding out from his cheek, was Itoshi Rin. You noticed how he side-eyed you from the front, and returned his evasive look with a frosty glare. 

Lastly, at the back of this 8-seater was Chigiri, Nagi and Reo—the former two being the most unlikely combination of acquaintances you had ever seen join this ragtag group of football bros. Nagi and Reo were famous for being fused at the hip since they both started their business degree courses together. They rarely fraternised with anyone else outside of their coursemates, much less kidnap some random woman. 

At the reminder of your predicament, you squirmed, accidentally rubbing your ass all over Barou’s crotch. He didn’t react beyond a low hiss of, “Quit it,” those thick and sturdy arms tightening around your trembling body. You tried to ignore how you could feel something hard poking your lower back. 

“Why did you kidnap me?” you demanded off the bat. “How did you find me? What are you going to do with me?” 

Those rapid questions were met with silence. You flitted your gaze to each of them, and through the passing snatches of orange streetlights, you saw every one of their expressions drenched in guilt. 

“We… don’t know.” 

Isagi was the one who spoke first, preparing himself to earn your rage.

“You don’t know?” you mumbled, growing more incensed every minute with how they had wrenched you from your peaceful life in the ruins. “You don’t know where you’re taking me. What you’re planning to do with me. You don’t know the reason why you went through all that trouble to track me down. You don’t—”

“It’s because you have a bounty on your head.”

Rin’s voice cut through your growing tirade, leaving you cold with disbelief.

“I… what?” 

On your right, Isagi nodded, rubbing the back of his neck like he would rather be somewhere else than in this vehicle having such a difficult conversation. 

“After you escaped, the officials posted your bounty and your suspected whereabouts. Um, it’s uh… well, Y/N… you’re the last woman alive from our college.” 

You exhaled, feeling your chest constrict and tears prick your eyes. 

All your lecturers… your friends… your cheerleading gang… 

“Are they all gone?” The boys didn’t comment on your thick voice or the unshed tears. 

Kunigami was the first one to express his remorse. “I’m sorry, Y/N. That’s the truth.” 

Rin decided to rip the bandaid off quicker, leaving you reeling in confusion and despair. “The authorities put up notices for you because your status was unknown. They said that anyone who brought you back—dead or alive—would receive two million yen.”

The reality of your situation settled in like sentiment falling to the bottom of a glass jar. 

You felt cold all over, your heartbeat right in your throat.

“So, you’re either going to k-kill me or turn me in, huh?” 

Your heavy question was met with silence. 

Surprisingly, it was Nagi at the back who piped up in his lazy, drawling tone. “Actually… we have a better plan.” 

Isagi was the first to react. He shot Nagi a murderous look, shaking his head. Kunigami glanced at the white-haired man through the rearview mirror with narrowed eyes, and Rin’s scowl deepened. Chigiri, who had been quiet throughout this entire exchange, sighed out, “Idiot” under his breath.

The only one who looked supportive of what Nagi had to say was—no surprise there—Reo himself.

“It’s a good plan! She’s still healthy,” he argued on behalf of his best friend. Nagi nodded, humming. 

“The virus should’ve taken her out weeks ago, but she managed to survive all on her own in such dirty conditions… I really think we should give it a shot.”

The air in the car changed; thickening and becoming ripe with tension. Barou’s arms suddenly felt too hot around your body, and you broke out into a sweat.

“It could work,” Isagi started out slowly, rubbing his chin. He had a look on his face you knew all too well—that calculative, goal-hungry stare that would eventually destroy his enemies. 

Rin tilted his head towards the backseat, his turquoise eyes drawing circles on the car’s water-stained ceiling. “Do you think that would be legal for us to do?” 

“We have to keep her hidden.” Chigiri spoke up, demanding everyone's attention. “The authorities can’t know that we have a woman with us or we’d be punished. We have to be very careful with Y/N.”

You were still drawing blanks on their ideas, growing more frustrated every single second you were kept in the dark from their decisions on your fate. “What do you fucking assholes mean? Legal? Keeping me away from the authorities? What do you want with me?” 

Your voice broke on the last question, and without warning, you started to sob. The weeks of roughing it out on your own, trying to escape from society and hide in plain sight were taking its toll on you. You wept bitterly, hiding your face behind your hair and sobbing into your shoulder.

“Shit,” someone muttered in the front. 

“Give her some water.” 

It was Isagi who gently coaxed your face from your shoulder, holding a bottle of clean water. You contemplated spitting a mouthful at him, but ultimately, your thirst won out and you drank deeply. 

He wiped your tears off with the sleeve of his threadbare sweater and you hiccuped into a silence, already accepting your death. 

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Reo murmured from the back. You lifted your swollen, red eyes to find his purple ones full of sincerity. “We actually want to keep you safe. There’s been rumours about human experiments and none of us want you to go through that. We want to keep you safe.”

You should’ve known the group’s appointed spokesperson would be a man used to spouting sweet words to get his way—whether with professors or girls—but a part of you wanted to believe Reo. You were so, so tired of fending for yourself, you wanted someone to help you with the burden of being a woman in these unacceptable times. 

“Yes, Y/N.” Rin’s sudden reassurance struck you dumb with disbelief. “We have our old frat house—nobody comes by there anymore. We’ll keep you safe there and you can rest.” 

It all sounded too good to be true. Here was a band of college footballers being completely sweet with you—wanting to protect, nurture and keep you hidden. But, you were waiting for the other shoe to drop; the catch in this arrangement. 

“There’s more,” you whispered, scenting out their bullshit. “You’re not telling me the real reason.” 

Men were never good liars—that much you could tell. So, when every single footballer glanced at the other, your senses were in red alert, demanding to uncover what was the terrible footnote to this otherwise flawless proposal.

“Well?” you muttered coldly, strengthening your resolve. “What do you want from me? What’s the catch?” 

Reo was quick to turn your question around. “What? There’s no catch—”

“There is.” It was Isagi who spoke, sounding resigned and tired in the dimming darkness. “There is a catch. We shouldn’t lie to her, guys. We all agreed to tell her the truth if we found her and she was willing to listen.” 

You held your breath, waiting for Isagi to drop the bomb. He seemed like he needed a moment to stabilise himself. He drew in a deep breath and unlocked his shoulders, looking you square in the eye. You half-wished he had kept you in the dark; never told you the truth. Because what he said next completely swept you off your feet, landing you onto the ground face-first and gasping in disbelief.

“It’s not about rewards or money—it’s about duty. We need your help to repopulate this city, Y/N… we want you to carry one of our babies.” 

You felt a pair of broad-set shoulders shake under your smaller frame, the man underneath you stretching out his kinks and stiff muscles after a night of good sleep. 

“Hm,” he groaned, brushing a hand down your bare spine. “Good morning, angel.” 

Reo’s husky voice drew you back into consciousness, and you whined, burying your face into his neck to hide yourself from the morning’s glare. He chuckled at your antics, nosing your hair and pressing soft kisses onto your temple. “C’mon, sweetheart. It’s Rin’s turn with you today.” 

Without missing a beat or opening your eyes, you mumbled: “Maybe you should all fuck me at one go so you guys can see who’s strong enough to knock me up.” 

You meant those words as a joke, but when Reo’s shoulders stiffened, you suddenly realised the depth of danger you were flirting with. 

“Don’t say such things you’ll regret, sweetheart,” he meant to tease you, gently easing you off his chest. “Or, the boys won’t stop until you give each one of us a baby.” 

You tried to laugh, to shake off the sudden unease. Today was Wednesday, and Wednesdays meant pancake days in this unconventional household. You got up and slipped on Reo’s shirt, fluffing out your shorter hair. The guys had insisted you cut your locks so that it would be easier to hide them under a baseball cap and pass you off as a man if anyone came looking. 

Sometimes, you did miss your femininity, but in a world where it was literally dying out, you couldn’t take any chances. 

Flashing Reo a smile, you hummed. “Don’t laze around too much like Nagi—I’m making breakfast.” 

In the living room, Bachira was the only one up and awake, his bright golden eyes following your every move as you wished him good morning and prepared your ingredients. Without a sound, he slipped behind you, calloused hands warm on your bare belly. 

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered into your ear, making goosebumps rise on your arms. 

“Morning, Meguru,” you mumbled, trying to ignore how his hands were creeping up to your bare breasts. Living with seven men meant that you were subjected to their advances night and day. It got even worse when you had told them you missed your period last week, but your cycle turned out to be just a few days late. 

That didn’t stop them from feeling you up, grasping your hips or pressing soft kisses to your neck when you least expected it. Like now, with Bachira’s hot breath bathing the sensitive strip of your jaw. 

Meguru hadn’t been part of your kidnapping heist a few weeks ago, but he had shown up when Isagi called—ready to be of service and contribute his portion in repopulating your tiny, dying town. 

Clicking your tongue at the price tag on the egg carton, you flipped the cardboard cover closed, affronted by the steep spike in those numbers. 

“It’s getting bad out there, right?” 

Bachira paused his efforts in running his nose down your neck, taken off guard by your sudden question. “Um. Yeah. Why’d you ask, princess?” 

Because I haven’t seen the outside world in weeks. You swallowed your bitterness, focused on whipping the yolks into a golden perfection. The boys were doing their best to make you feel cosy and safe within these walls; you couldn’t be too ungrateful. They didn’t let you out for fear of someone catching sight of you—that’s why the windows and doors were all covered and barricaded.

They restricted your contact with only seven of them because they didn’t want an anonymous tip-off to result in you being taken away. 

Every Blue Lock player was careful to protect their golden ace. 

“Nothing,” you hummed in the breeziest voice you could muster. “Just curious, s’all.” 

“Hmm.” Bachira’s hands moved up to your naked tits moving freely under Reo’s bigger t-shirt. “You smell like him,” he accused you softly with a nip to your ear. “That stupid rich boy.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you tried not to smirk, but failed. 

“Nah.” Bachira’s fingers trailed to your stiffening nipples, still sore from Reo’s ministrations (he loved biting down on them while you rode him) and eased the soft flesh in between his thumb and forefinger. “I was waiting for my turn—can’t believe I have to share you with those bastards.” You tried not to gasp and push your body back to meet his pelvis halfway, failing miserably to measure a cup full of milk. Some of the liquid sloshed onto your wrist and you heard Meguru snort. 

“I love how sensitive you are, baby.” 

Biting on your lower lip to stifle a whine, you pushed your ass back to brush the front of his pants, finding him already hard and waiting. 

Bachira was one of the more eager boys, and you had to pace yourself and him less he fucked you on this counter and ruined Rin’s day with you. 

“Meguru—”

“I know, I know,” he groaned, sounding both lustful and disappointed. “You’re emo Itoshi’s tonight. Fucking stupid stick game.” Cursing himself for literally getting the shorter end of the stick, you felt his pout imprint on your skin. “But, can’t we have a little bit of fun, baby? Can I eat your pussy out at least?” 

You literally throbbed at his words, and almost gave in to the rushing desire sweeping you off your feet. Almost—until you heard Isagi’s voice knocking the both of you out of this lust-filled fog.

“Hey. What’re you both doing?” 

While you smelled a threat, Bachira smelled an opportunity. His grin was shark-like, cutting through the tension when he didn’t stop playing with your nipples or back down when you hissed out his name. 

“What’s it look like? I’m trying to fuck her.” 

You tensed, waiting for Isagi to be pissed off. He was the one who reinforced this one-night sharing rule, and to see his best friend blatantly disregarding it would set off his rigid ego. 

But, to your surprise, Isagi tilted his head, taking note of your flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. “I think she… she likes it.” 

Bachira glanced down to find your mouth parted slightly, brows furrowed with a deceptive look of pain when both men knew what it was. Desire. 

Isagi, who could smell a goal or a wrench in the plans from a mile away, started to chuckle. 

“Lift up her shirt. Continue playing with her nipples, Meguru.” 

“Yes, captain,” Bachira sang, and lifted the hem of Reo’s sleep shirt up to expose your puffy, swollen nipples. 

“Shit,” Isagi breathed, and you didn’t miss how he had to adjust himself through his shorts, those dark blue eyes eclipsed with a dark, unnamed emotion you were terrified to uncover. “They look so perfect and pointy.” 

Bachira rolled your sensitive buds between his two fingers, ignoring your soft yelp and flinch when he began to tug on them with a bit more force. “Huh—it really is. Reo must’ve prepped her nicely for us.” 

“For what?” 

The voice of another lover joined the fray. You peeled your watery eyes up to find Reo’s curious expression sweeping between his two friends and your own flushed face. He didn’t seem angry that you were being fondled by Bachira in broad daylight—in fact, Reo looked like he didn’t feel anything. 

He almost looked bored, sweeping those purplish hues to Isagi. “So, are we finally doing it?” 

“Hmm.” 

Doing what? You wanted to ask, but your head was tilted back, mouth falling open only for it to be filled by Bachira’s tongue coaxing yours to come and play with his. His kiss—if it could even be called that—was sloppy and unhurried, its full intention to leave you feeling shame and vulnerability in front of two of your other lovers. 

Showing them how you easily folded and lost yourself to the sensations. 

“Mm—can see her moving her hips,” Isagi’s lowered, husky voice shot a potent mix of desire and shame through your veins. “Check how wet she is Meguru.” 

Abiding his best friend, Bachira dipped two fingers past the waistband of your sleep shorts. You mewled and tossed your head back when he swiped through your folds, teasingly circling your clit. 

As soon as he gave you that wonderful friction, he retrieved it, leaving you high and dry. 

“Meguru,” you whimpered. Bachira ignored you, holding his fingers up to the other two men; his digits glistening with your juices. 

“I don’t think she can wait anymore,” Reo murmured, and this time, you caught a flash of darkness in his otherwise kind eyes. “Isagi—”

“I’ll go first.” 

Meguru nudged you firmly to face the approaching, dark-haired man. You couldn’t keep your eyes off Isagi’s intense, blue eyes that were pinning you right to the spot like you were about to be burned on a stake. The fire came next when he reached out to caress your cheek, trailing his hand down your neck and grabbing your throat. 

“Tease her clit again,” he ordered, and Bachira playfully said, 

“Yes, captain.” 

Fuck. You were growing lightheaded from the combination of Isagi choking you and Bachira running slow circles on your throbbing clit. It was even filthier when you remembered Reo was watching, most likely getting off to your desperate pinched expressions. 

“Meguru… Yoichi…”

Calling them by their first name seemed to spur on those two men. Meguru eased one finger past your tight ring of muscle, melting through your spongy walls and hooking the tip of this thick index right against your g-spot. He nudged it forward in a fluid motion, like how he would effortlessly send forward a ball across the field, forcing a yelp past your kiss-swollen lips. 

Your vision was purely dominated by Isagi’s increasingly unhinged expression; the sweat bulleting down his forehead, his mouth parted in a silent snarl, those dark, beautiful eyes coaxing you to jump down a well just to feel his touch… 

“Y-Yoichi.” 

As if he understood your deeper need, Isagi nodded feverishly at Bachira. “Remove her shorts… hold her open while I eat her out.” 

Dutifully, Meguru followed his friend's instructions. You watched with wide, unblinking eyes as Yoichi got to his knees, his mouth so close to where you needed him the most.

Bachira slung your shorts down your ankles, revealing the sweet shape of your mound and the even sweeter treasure hidden in between your folds. Like a man hellbent on a mission, Yoichi gently pried your clit from under her hood, revealing the throbbing bud waiting to be licked, sucked or loved on. 

You barely had time to catch your breath before his mouth was on you. 

Every man in this house ate you out differently. Reo was more careful and controlled. Nagi was languid and tended to overstimulate you. Barou loved to have your legs on his shoulders as he dove in between your thighs. 

But, Isagi was different; he ate you out with the determination of a man who had to prove he was the best in every way. 

The feeling of his tongue swiping through your folds, those perfect pink lips sealing around your clit and how he sounded like he was making out with your pussy made you clench down on thin air. 

“Yoichi…” you breathed. 

Bachira went to work on stimulating you, too, tugging your shirt above your head and pinching your nipples again. 

Both boys were so intent on driving you to the edge, that they didn’t realise the group of spectators they were attracting. 

From the corner of your watery eyes, you noticed Rin standing, arms crossed over his broad shoulders and frosty glare—tainted with jealousy—directed towards the man in between your thighs. Kunigami had just gotten out of the shower, so his hair was still damp while Barou had returned from a workout, his muscles swollen and shiny with sweat. Chigiri and Nagi were the only ones probably still asleep, though you had little doubt your stream of moans would wake them up out of curiosity. 

Meguru flicked the tip of his nails on your nipples, the sharp sting sending bites of pleasure right to your core. 

“Megu—” you were interrupted again by another sloppy kiss. 

“Tch. You’re all such fucking horndogs.” Rin’s grumble was white noise behind the blood rushing in your ears. 

“... you’re not complaining…” 

“Shut up…” 

A sharp nip to your flesh inner thigh wrenched you back to the present, and you gasped, making eye contact with Isagi and his raised brow. 

“You’re getting bored, Princess?” 

Without missing a beat, you shook your head. “N-no, ‘Ichi. Mm’sorry.” 

He clicked his tongue, obviously not buying your lie. “Here you are getting your pussy eaten out by me and you’re focusing on the other boys. Just admit that you’re a fucking cockwhore, Y/N.” 

You gaped at his words, and your rage was lost when Bachira dragged you back to the counter, arranging you face down and ass up. 

“M-Meguru—!” 

“Come on, who wants to fuck her first,” he boldly exclaimed, shaking you to the core. “She’s ready for a baby.” 

You burned from the inside out at how cheaply he was treating you; that sensation amplified by the sharpest slap of humiliation across your cheeks, Bachira’s handprint glowing warmly on your skin. He spanked you again, matching his mark on your right cheek to your left one, letting you cry out and clench down on thin air.  

“Me.” A deep, resonate voice which you loved having at your ear while he fucked you on every Monday night. After all—a King always went first.

As one of the bigger guys, Barou’s physique gave him the advantage over the others to call dibs on you first, his undeniably good genetics and strong bone structure a contender for healthy babies. 

You felt Bachira’s warmth melt from your side to be replaced by the feel of Shoei’s toned thighs pressed against your rear. 

He soothed the spanks left on your skin with one large, coarse palm, and hummed deeply. 

“You ready, pretty?” 

Nodding, you turned your head to the side, unable to believe that you were in such a vulnerable position to be fucked by the entire football team. 

You weren’t going to lie—you had imagined yourself in this position before. But, it was always in your wildest fantasies; to be defiled by the football team in your tiny uniform behind the bleachers. If you were being honest, every girl on campus had the same daydream, but you were closer to the unattainable. The entire idea was such a cliche, and yet, here you were, in a room full of hungry, testosterone-fuelled men who eagerly waited to have their turn with you—the pretty cheerleader from their bygone days before the world tried to kill humanity off. 

Barou wasted no time in sinking his thick cock into you, groaning as your body took him inch by inch. He rubbed your hips, leaning forward to gently thumb your nipple. “There you go, baby. Taking me so well.” 

His words were a stark contrast from his actions. Shoei gave a low, guttural groan when he bottomed out, a dirty thrill shooting down your spine at the feel of his entire cock moulding with your walls as seven other men gaze lustfully at you. 

Through the shine of an old kettle on the counter top, you noticed Isagi palming himself through his shorts. Bachira was blatantly jacking himself off, one hand inside his sleep shorts. Kunigami was sitting on the sofa, staring at you slack-jawed and completely hard under his towel. Reo was the more subtle one, furtively glancing around and looking slightly uncomfortable, but still unable to tear his eyes from you. 

Chigiri and Nagi had woken up, and Rin was standing a little ways by the door, distancing himself from the activities taking place.

For a split second, you felt bad for him—Rin was supposed to have you today, but he had to wait for his turn as the other guys fucked you; figuratively and literally blue-balled by his own teammates. It would’ve made you mad on his behalf if you weren’t—

“Ow!” 

A sharp tug on your roots snapped your head back, and your cry bounced off the walls. Barou’s lips were on your neck, his hot breath fanning across your neck. 

“Did I tell you you could be distracted? Pay attention to when your King fucks you.”

From the back, you heard Bachira snicker, but every thought flew out of your head when Barou set a pace which had your toes curling in your house slippers. He clamped one hand around the delicate roots of your hair, while the other guided your hips to meet his halfway.

The sound of balls hitting flesh filled the air, along with your animalistic groans and Barou’s deep ones. You heard a few more muffled groans, and someone cursing, but your thoughts were doused in wet cotton, growing heavier and fuzzier. 

You could barely keep your eyes open, only cognizant of Barou’s cock shaping your walls and the impending ball of heat waiting to unravel right under your navel. Meeting his thrusts cleanly, soft mewls fell from your plush lips like dew, mingling with a bit of drool puddling onto the counter right under your mouth. 

Barou was fucking you stupid and the other men knew it. He couldn’t stop the feral grin splitting his face in half when your hips bucked, a little slutty tick which told every man you were about to cum. 

Without warning, you felt wet warmth fill you to the brim—your first load of the day taken like a champ.

Shoei hadn’t let you cum, and you reeled back from the disappointment with barely any grace; your soft sob was replaced by a moan when another man lined up his cock to your stuffed entrance. 

You smelled his fresh pine cologne before you saw him, and sensed Rin’s impatience the second he gripped your jaw and wrenched your face back for a deep, frenzied kiss. 

“Fucking whore,” he whispered into the heat of your mouth. “Letting the other boys feel you up when it’s my turn with you today. Where’s your shame?” 

Your answer melted as one with a dulcet moan when Rin slid two fingers in between your swollen folds, testing the waters of your arousal. He barely cared when his digits were coated with a combination of Barou’s cum and your juices; he just stuck those soiled, pale and nimble fingers which could’ve rivalled a skilled pianist down your throat. You gagged on them, eyes going blurry and all teary from the flavouring of sin heavy on your tongue. 

“Rin,” you hiccuped, and he hummed. 

“Take me deeper, baby.” 

His command brought a throbbing wave of desperation arresting you from head to toe. You tried to bring his fingers further down your gullet, but gagged when he was almost knuckle-deep. 

“Mhpmh!” Your syrupy moan made every man groan, the sheer desperation in how you attempted to fully swallow Rin’s fingers a commendable feat considering he had absurdly thick fingers to match his height. 

“Good girl,” Rin praised you in a husky voice when he felt your throat bob around his digits. “You’re really such the perfect fuckdoll, huh? Always so ready for us.” 

“Mhmm…” your eyes rolled back into your head, your entire body tensing when you felt his cock slowly breach past your tight ring of muscle. 

“Fucking take this dick, baby, I know you can,” the youngest striker urged, his words beyond filthy compared to the other men. Rin was one of the only few people in this house who could talk you through the immense pleasure, and you loved him all the more for it. 

His obscene mouth would never fail to leave you reeling from the difference in his demeanour; sour and quiet when he wasn’t fucking you, to brash and downright filthy when he was egging you towards an orgasm. 

You loved Rin and his duality; lived to watch it come to life.

You wanted to swallow him down and eat him up whole to satiate the deep well of lust inside of you no matter the price. 

“Rin…” you gurgled past his fingers. “Mhmmmore.” 

“More?” he interpreted your gurgles with the ghost of a chuckle. You quite liked it when Rin laughed even if it was a soft exhale; it made you feel lighter to hear his happiness. He hummed and plunged his fingers back down your throat, playing with the soft palate of your tongue, while his cock inched deeper and deeper into your sacred heat.

The second he bottomed out, his forehead thumped onto your shoulder, a long drawn out groan of relief radiating warmth right into your throbbing heart. Rin’s reactions were adorable as they were pussy stirring, his duality further exacerbated by those spit-slicked fingers retracting from your mouth and moving down to your puffy clit.

He gently rubbed circles into them, catching you whenever you bucked into his embrace. His lips were on your neck, his hot breath expelling heated groans onto the sensitive skin. Every single shaky circle on your sensitive nub was pulling you closer and closer into a white hole of pleasure.

Your moans were reaching fever pitch, and the entire house was doused with the arousal of seven men who couldn’t wait to fuck you.

The boys whispered something over your stream of mewls and your feet were off the ground, your limp body in Rin’s arms. Without a second to spare, he brought you to the main bedroom where the largest bed could fit at least three men. 

There, he laid you down, your head dangling off the edge so your mouth was hanging wide open for the next man to defile. 

Rin eased himself in between your spread thighs, placing a kiss onto your sternum almost reverently and leaving more pressees on your jaw and cheeks. You felt someone else rustle up towards the other side of the bed, and your eyes met Kunigami’s darkened ones. His towel was shed off, a heap on the floor, and his long, girthy cock throbbed in anticipation over your face. 

“Open up for me, pretty girl,” Rensuke murmured, grazing your cheek and then hooking a thumb on your bottom lip to spread you wider. You whined, overstimulated on both ends when you felt both men sink into you at the same time. Rin bottomed out the second Rensuke hit the back of your throat, making you jerk and gag. 

The both of them were big—far too big for your smaller body. It was a struggle to take them both and you felt your body reacting to the impossible feat.

“Ssh, ssh,” Rin whispered into your hair. “Relax, baby. You can take us, I know you can.”

With watery eyes, all you could do was mewl, hips bucking pathetically. Rin’s long girth was directly hitting your g-spot with every thrust, and Rensuke was splitting your throat in half. You felt like you could drown in their musk and the thick scent of sex in the air. 

Something bitter hit the back of your throat, and you gagged, about to spit Rensuke out when he clamped one hand on your throat, telling you to keep him there if you wanted to know what was good for you. 

“Hold me, sweetheart. Hold it,” the large football player murmured. You were sure your entire system was going haywire—your pussy and mind in war to come out at the top of your frazzled emotions. 

One of your hands was buried in Rin’s hair, and another was perched on Kunigami’s thigh, trying to ease him down your battered throat. 

Without warning, the other man withdrew his thick length from your mouth, splatters of drool dripping down your chin and neck; defiling you even more. 

“Fucking hurry it up, Rin,” Kunigami growled, throwing the other striker a murderous look which juxtaposed his usually kind expression jarringly. “I need to cum in her.” 

Rin grunted, returning the other striker’s glare with a hostile one of his own. “Shut the fuck up—let me have this with her.” Kunigami stroked himself, trying to keep himself hard as Rin started to jackhammer into your willing cunt.

Your screams of pleasure echoed around the room, contrasting with the other men’s deep growls and groans. It sounded like a smorgasbord of erotic sounds, complemented by the slap of Rin’s balls on your ass. 

The youngest man was close on the verge of his orgasm, his face pinched and drawn. You thought he would’ve taken this chance to cum and ignore your pleasure, like Barou did, but you were sorely wrong when it came to Rin. He pressed a thumb to your swollen clit, rubbing it soft and sweet, increasing the pressure when you started to buck and whine into his embrace. 

You smelled the sting of his sweat, felt it drip into your open mouth, tainting it with the taste of Kunigami’s precum and his own excitement. 

“I’m close,” you sobbed out, arms like vines around his shoulders, nails stabbing into his back. “G’na cum, Rin-Rin—fuck, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

He shook his head, a feral look of pure determined arousal lighting those beautiful features. “Cum for me, baby. Make a mess—show the other guys how much you love my cock.” 

Your back arched, and your mouth fell open in a silent scream. Your thighs tensed around his waist, almost clamping the air out of his lungs from how hard you were clenching around him. The minute ticks, the red lines you left down his back, and your eyes rolling back into your skull arrived at a blinding crescendo.

“Oh! Ugh, Rin—!” 

Your first orgasm hit you like a brick wall, steamrolling every thought from your blank mind. Rin’s face fell into the crook of your neck, and his stuttering hips brought forth a fountain of warmth flowing freely into your womb. 

You were coasting, high on hormones and pleasure, when he disappeared from your embrace, only to be replaced by another body. Kunigami’s lips on your skin were like warm fluttering butterfly wings, slowly bringing you back to the ground.

“I’m here next, okay, baby?” His tender tone didn’t prepare you for how his cock stretched you out. 

“Too big,” you muttered, losing every shred of your composure and shame to hiccup those dirty words. “You’re t-too big.”

“Yeah?” He kissed your tears away. “Aren’t you glad I can stretch you out? Give your sweet body some practice when you have to push out our babies?” 

His words ignited a flame right in your lower belly—making you cry out when Rensuke started to slip inside your already overflowing hole. Gushes of white streaked your thighs, the other men’s releases staining the bed underneath you. 

As you got used to his slightly wider girth, you didn’t expect Kunigami to roll you on your hands and knees. His cock slid back into your waiting heat, the angle making him feel bigger, and stretching you out even more. 

But, it also placed you face to face with the other guys who were eyeing you hungrily—none more so than Reo. 

One thick hand wound the hair around the nape of your neck to snap your head up, keeping you firmly in place to watch the lust dancing in their eyes.

“You really should see how fucking sexy you look, baby,” Chigiri hummed, those bright eyes latched onto the spot where you and Kunigami were connected. “We could eat you whole—you fucking little slut.”

“So pretty,” Reo cooed, and Nagi nodded in agreement. 

The lilac-haired man got bold enough to stride up to you, perching himself on the edge of the bed where your swinging tits were mesmerising him. 

“Raise her up a little bit, Ren.” 

Kunigami obeyed Reo’s orders, settling on his haunches and bringing you up with one arm securely snug around your neck. Your tinier hands fluttered to the thick trunk of his forearm as if trying to pry him off, the breath in your lungs knocked out by Rensuke’s headlock. 

But, whatever bit of oxygen you managed to inhale from Kunigami’s loosening hold was taken away as Reo leaned forward to kiss and suck your tits. He massaged the neglected one with one hand, his lips busy toying with your right nipple. You watched with bated breath as his tongue caressed the hardening flesh, the firm suction of his lips on the vulnerable flesh sending pangs of pleasure straight to your core.

You cried out, throwing your head back to bump Rensuke’s chin. He grunted, and shifted his arm a bit so he could grasp your neck instead, holding you steady as his cock wrecked you and Reo’s mouth on your tits continued driving you insane.

“She’s drooling,” Nagi drawled, catching their attention. 

Every eye zeroed in on your blissed-out face, your mouth parting and a little bit of spit dripping past your chin. Kunigami chuckled, breathless and almost feral when he leaned forward to sloppily make out with you. 

The sound of wet lips smacking on each other and a big cock stirring you closer to another orgasm made every man in the room throb—even those who had already come. Every footballer was thinking of the numerous ways he could bend you over and fuck you hard until you squirted all over them; each of their mind’s eye tainted with your sweet moans and even sweeter release.

You gave a short scream, your orgasm catching everyone off guard when you almost folded forward if it wasn’t for Reo catching you. Your body was shuddering like someone had tasered you—a pure scream of pleasure rebounding across the thin walls.

Reo held you as you sobbed, your release triggering Kunigami’s own orgasm. More warmth filled you up and you had lost track of how many men had already came in you; your brain a complete mush with no solid thoughts in it.

Like clockwork, another cock filled you—this time it was Reo’s again—and your mouth was stuffed with someone else's length. You were dragged into a cowgirl position by Reo who let Nagi mount you from the back, both of their lengths taking turns pistoning into your stretched out heat.

“Disgusting,” someone muttered in disdain over the sounds of two men concurrently fucking one woman. Neither of you cared, and you were pulled into a sloppy makeout session with Nagi as Reo continued sucking and licking your already reddened nipples.

Every part of your orifice was swollen, but you still took Chigiri without complaint when it was his turn. You were already like jelly at this point, your entire body sagging on the bed and going numb from the neverending pleasure.

Thankfully, he was quicker, cumming into you within minutes, and kissing you on the forehead afterwards. Your hole was stuffed to the brim with white hot cum, and you thought you couldn’t take anymore until you felt Bachira sliding behind you, hitching your thighs up.

“Hey, Princess,” the golden-eyed menace cooed. “Did you think we would forget about you?” 

You felt the bed dip, and Isagi’s face swam in your vision. He came closer to give you a kiss, and his lips felt like a soothing balm on a hot day. 

“Yoichi,” you whispered, eyes heavy and body already close to shutting down from exhaustion. “M’so tired.”

“I know, pretty girl, I know,” the dark-haired man whispered. “But, Meguru and I haven’t had our turn with you yet. It would be unfair if we didn't, right?” He gently stroked your cheek, voice saturated with fake sympathy. “You wouldn’t want us to not fuck you after you’ve already taken everyone’s cock, right? You’re not that cruel to deny us, are you, baby?”

“Fucking twisted weirdo,” you heard another person quip. But, you were too far gone to stop the collision of his lips on yours, that skilled mouth drinking away all of your complaints.

As he distracted you, Bachira slipped his thick and veiny cock right into your waiting cunt, his groan low and erotic against your shoulder. 

“How’re you still so wet and tight after so many rounds?” He nipped your shoulder in frustration, setting a pace that rutted your body back and forth on the soft sheets. “You’re a fucking nympho, baby—so needy for our cocks.”

“Shut up,” you groaned in between Yoichi’s hot mouth pressing onto yours. You tried to squirm away to get back some of your lost breath, but Isagi refused to let you part from his lips. He chased after you, mouth sealing over yours again and again as you tried to twist your head this way and that. 

Strings of spittle clung to both of your chins, and that sick part inside of you which wanted more pushed the voice of common sense in your head out of the way—making you fall head over heels for Yoichi’s mouth on yours. You kissed him back with as much hunger and zeal as your tired body could muster, pushing your boundaries right to the very edge. 

Isagi’s ego fed heartily on your submission, greedily taking everything you gave him.

By the end of this sloppy makeout session, your lips were tingling, and Bachira had already come inside of you—getting off to the sight of his best friend and the girl they were sharing stuck in an intimate lip lockdown.

The last man to take you was drawing it out. He took your face in his hands, nudging you free from Bachira’s grasp and rolling you into his arms.

“Out,” Isagi commanded, in a tone that broke no argument. “Leave me and Y/N alone.”

The rest of the guys began to grumble, but one sharp glare from the terrifying striker was enough to quiet everyone down. Indisputably, Yoichi ran the show, and his ego was bigger than any of theirs combined—the lesser knew when to give way to someone who could devour them without regrets.

Everyone turned to leave, and the last one was Rin who hovered by the doorway, unwilling to abandon you to Yoichi’s devices. The other dark-haired man shot his nemesis a frigid stare that could’ve frozen over Hell’s fires.

“Out, Itoshi.” 

The younger man countered his superior’s glare with a mutinous one of his own. 

“Who’s to say you won’t hurt her?” Rin’s nostrils flared, flickering his gaze to your closed eyes and limp body. “We can’t trust you with her.”

Isagi snorted. “If you want to watch, be my guest. I’ll fuck her so good she’ll forget about you assholes.”

The competition was on, and you were the final prize for these men to win. But, it wasn’t just your body they wanted—each of them fought to secure your womb so it would grow their fruits and give them the family they dreamed of. 

You were their greatest treasure, and they would go to the ends of the earth to make sure you were safe—even watching the other men to make sure none of them would hurt you. 

Isagi was a packaged dynamite waiting to blow; he was too unpredictable and Rin would hate himself if he pushed you too far or injured you in any shape or form. He planted himself against the wall, arms folded across his chest while those searing teal eyes watched you gasp and preen for Isagi’s attention. 

The dark-haired man was playing with your clit, using the dirtiest tactic to rile you up so you would explode in pleasure for him. His mouth was toying with your swollen nipples, and Rin winced when he bit on the tender nub, earning your shriek. It didn’t take a genius to see you were hanging on the tether of your sanity, and with your body already keyed up to the hundreds, your next orgasm was sure to leave you delirious.

Your small hands wound up in his hair, holding him close despite the excruciating pleasure. If Yoichi was the current wrecking you apart, he was also the life buoy you clung on to as your body coasted on the unending pleasure.

“I don’t even need to make you wet, baby,” he breathed right into the shell of your ear, gripping your hips hard. “You’re already so stretched out for me.”

Your breathing caught, a hitched moan echoing around the room when he sank deep into your heat with little to no prep. Isagi kissed you on your lax mouth, and tasted your tears right on his tongue.

“You okay, baby?” He forced your face to his, and your eyes fluttered open. All you could give was a tired nod, and he grinned down at you. “Okay. Are you ready?” 

You nodded again, and that was when another person caught your attention. “Rin?” 

“M’here,” the other dark-haired striker murmured, his eyes softening with fondness when you smiled at him. “I’ll make sure you get your rest afterwards.”

You hummed, and the idea of knocking off to sleep sounded so good, your eyes had already slipped close. 

“Hey—focus on me, sweetheart.”

Isagi’s hand around your neck squeezed down, cutting off your air supply. You gasped and sputtered, eyes rolling wide open. His grin was feral, touched with a hint of insanity. “Good girl. Now, watch me fuck you, sweetheart.”

He pushed your back onto the pillows, and your eyes instantly went to where you both were connected. Isagi’s pretty cock was smeared with your juices and the other men’s cum, the sight alone so filthy it made your cheeks flush.

“‘Ichi,” you hiccuped, going dumb on every stroke of his heavy cock against your velvet walls. “I-I’m close.” 

Your pussy fluttered around his length, the overstimulation touching you like a livewire. He rolled his hips into yours, the sloppy sounds of your pussy getting him higher than any risky goal. There was a reason he went last, and it was because he wanted to savour the sounds you were making; the way your pretty eyes went all glassy and hazy just for him. 

Isagi loved you so fucking much, he swore he couldn’t breathe when you started to chant his name.

“‘Ichi, ‘Ichi,” you gasped out, twisting in his grip, your back arching. “K-Kiss me, ‘Ichi.” 

He obliged you, ignoring the jealous presence waiting right in the wings, waiting for him to fuck up. But, Isagi was gentle with you. He tenderly planted hot, open-mouthed kisses onto your parted lips, drinking in your sweet whines and mewls of desperation. Isagi himself wasn’t in control of his body; that was the effect you had on him.

You drove him crazy with your supple love and beautiful smiles. Everytime you looked at him, it felt like he had been shot right in the chest. Yoichi was so, so crazy for you, and luckily for him, your feelings were the same.

He let Rin get an eyeful of you licking his lower lip, your treacherous side coming to light when you blatantly showed off your preference for the unassuming striker. The other man looked like he was swallowing shards of concrete, his expression twisted in disgust. But, Isagi had already given him an out and Rin didn’t want to take it—he was stuck with the consequences of his actions. 

“Yoichi,” you sighed out his name, all stickily sweet in your high-pitched moan. “I love you, ‘Ichi.” 

“Yeah?” Isagi grunted, your little confession going straight to his burgeoning ego. “Say it louder, baby. Tell the whole world what you feel for me.”

“I love you,” your gasp of pleasure when he changed the angle of his driving hips fed the monster inside of him. “I love you!” 

“Fuck,” Isagi bit down on your neck, leaving behind a mark for the other men to see. Rin’s own marks were on your shoulders and breasts, but Isagi had gone one step further to make his impression on the tender skin between your neck and jaw—right above your pulse point. It was so every beat of your heart echoed with his imprint and every time any of the boys looked at you, they were reminded of who you loved the most.

 “‘Ichi,” you gasped out, and your stuttering hips told Isagi you were already close. Your thighs tensed around him, and he fueled your unravelling further by rubbing on your clit with his rough thumb, the action making you jerk and gasp like you had been electrocuted.

“Yoichi… ‘Ichi… Yoichi!” you cried out his name as your body gave one final push—your release slamming into you with the force of a thousand brick walls, dragging you straight into darkness.

You thought you might’ve died in this instance. Your entire body felt too heavy, and you could physically hear every beat of your heart.

Someone was holding you tightly to his chest, his lips peppering gentle kisses on your face. You pried your eyes open after what felt like two hours trying to recollect your bearings, only to find a pair of teal eyes gazing down at you in worry.

“Baby?” Rin’s voice was soft and unintrusive. He let you get used to the bright light of a warm afternoon—watching you stretch yourself and ease your muscles.

“What time is it?” you asked in a thick voice. Staring down your body, someone had cleaned you up and dressed you in Kunigami’s oversize t-shirt and Rin’s boxers. You felt refreshed and well-taken care of, your entire heart swelling eight times its size to fit your love for every man in there.

Rin leaned forward and you caught his face with your shaky palms, caressing those defined cheekbones. 

“You slept for almost an hour. Bachira thought you had died.” 

You stifled a giggle, tracing your thumbs over the shape of his mouth. Rin let you pull him in for a kiss, and like the worrywart he was, he didn’t deepen it, not wanting to give into the insatiable lust humming in his veins.

If you thought one horny, touch-starved man was a handful, you hadn’t expected the other seven to come through the door and pile up on the bed, each of them clamouring to cuddle you.

You giggled when Nagi tripped over Reo to snuggle up on your left side, only to be stopped by Bachira who literally yanked the taller man out of the way to steal his place. In the end, you took turns cuddling with each man, their deep sigh of relief that things had turned out great and not as weird as they thought, fed right into your relaxed soul. 

As sunlight streamed in through the blinds, the outside world may be in an upheaval, but within these four walls, you were as safe as you could be in your favourite football team’s arms.

©️lalunanymph, 2023