#x m!reader

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

There’s a place at the beach

Pairings — Jason Duval x male reader

⚠️CW⚠️ — gay sex, gay, public blowjob, Gloryhole, exhibitionism, Jason has a big dick, top Jason Duval, bottom male reader, bathroom sex, bareback, breeding, scent kink (armpit), body worshipping, almost caught, derogatory language used, ass referred to as cunt, and cumming hands free.

Word count — 7.1k

Summary — what was a random gloryhole hookup became a weekly occurrence. It was the usual session until the anonymous man wanted more.

Read before continuing — if you are younger than 18 or any of the warnings make you uncomfortable, this is your chance to turn around and leave. If there are no problems, you may continue.

It was late at night when you took your stroll, the sun having set along the horizon a couple of hours ago. The beaming sky and sweltering heat were replaced by darkness and cool, crisp air—somewhat damp and humid. The streetlights lining the area between the sandy beach and the hard concrete sliced the darkness, illuminating the sidewalk, while the beach remained in total darkness.

The once-packed businesses that lined the other side of the beach became vacant. The ambiance of people speaking, padded footsteps, and the occasional conflict ceased. You could hear your footsteps patting against the concrete and the faint, distant sounds of cars driving through Key Lento. The wind blowing caused the hanging palm trees to sway and rustle, and some sand particles from the beach dusted the sidewalk and your shoes.

Nightly strolls were the best, at times, if you avoided the more criminal and shady areas. The beach was probably the safest. You usually walked through the long stretch after working out at one of those twenty-four-hour gyms, or when you needed to get out, wanting to forget about your living situation and finances.

The sharp, salty, and fishy aroma of algae and other sources choked the air, enhanced by the cool air, which gave it a saltier, ozone-like scent. The smell didn’t bother you that much, but it was still putrid—an offense and assault to your nose. Your gaze moved to the empty, dark beach. While it wasn’t dirty per se, it wasn’t winning any of Leonida’s prizes or magazine titles as one of the state’s best beaches. Trash littered the grounds, embedded deep in the sand, but most of it has been cleaned by volunteers.

You saluted their efforts, unlike those rich bastards. They took an interest and decided to build marinas to dock their expensive yachts and boats, along with lavish resorts and homes, thereby gentrifying the area.

They always say that Key Lento was some sort of gateway to paradise, and apparently, they wanted to push the gateway further so people like you wouldn’t be allowed entry. You had a stable job, but due to the influx of wealthy individuals and real estate investment, you were barely above water. It felt like the ground was sinking beneath your feet, with your head inches away from being swallowed.

Rent and taxes were increasing, and your job wasn’t handing out promotions any time soon. The stress was getting to you, and this led to you relieving yourself with sex and walking at night. The walks did help, but sex was the ultimate relief you needed. Just the thought of dick made your pants feel tight, your dick chubbing in your underwear.

‘Shit, right now?’ you whined. You readjusted your pants, pulling at the fabric to free some space in your underwear. Thankfully, there wasn’t anybody out, otherwise you would’ve looked like a lunatic or some drug addict. You fiddle around with your pants, but it was temporary as your dick was filling the space, pushing the limits of your underwear.

Surveying the area, there weren’t many options to choose from to relieve your little predicament. The storefronts and restaurants were closed, meaning their bathrooms were as well. Then, your eyes fell on a conspicuous building in the middle of the beach. It was a sight for sore eyes, a beige brick building with a red-tiled roof and blue doors rose from the sandy expanses. It was a public bathroom and locker room. Perfect.

You didn’t hesitate, following the paved path with haste, your feet clamoring against the concrete as the beige building grew closer. Your dick bounced and throbbed, sensing that it was going to get the relief it needed. Pushing the blue door open, you were greeted with the typical public bathroom.

It was just as you expected—the metal stall doors, wide open, lined the grey-tiled walls, with urinals on the opposite side. The sinks sat beside the metal boxes with cracked, dirty mirrors; you could see rust chewing away at the metal pipes beneath the sinks. The buzzing of the light above was harsh, but it flickered and dimmed—probably needs maintenance. It kinda gave horror movie, killer vibes. Cleaning products mixed with the usual waste choked the air, another offense to your nose.

You sighed, groaning and tilting your head back. You didn’t want to be here, masturbating in some public bathroom on the beach, but you needed the privacy. It would do until you’ve dealt with your problem and return home. You peered into the various stalls, disgust visible on your face as you wondered if adult men were responsible for the mess cause there is no way a fully grown adult would do something like this.

The last two stalls were the cleanest, not as filthy as piss-stained tiled floors or shit smeared on the toilet bowl or seating—even on the stall itself. Stepping into the stall and examining the seat, you verified it was safe before closing and locking the metal door. You pulled down your pants and whipped out your throbbing cock. The piece of meat plopping out of your underwear, bouncing up and down, precum glistened your tip as it twitched with eagerness and the freedom of being out of its clothing cage.

Sitting on the seat, you gasped softly as the cold ceramic touched your ass cheeks. Your back pressed against the tank, your legs spread open and extended to the corners of the stall, as your hand wrapped around your sensitive cock. Muttering under your breath as a blooming warmth filled your body, muscles relaxing as you let your hand do the work, giving long, circular strokes.

Your breathing hitched, choking on your spit as you tapped your fingertips against the swollen tip, spreading the tiny split to show oozing precum. Using your free hand to scroll on your phone, you opened the Sniffies site—curious to see all the hot men and dicks in your area or from the nearby metropolis of Vice City. You used the site before; the easiest way to score dick and delve into some fantasy you wanted to try.

“Fuck… thats so huge.” You whined, slowing your stroking game to view the massive dick on your screen. It was 8.5 inches long with decent thickness. Looking through the profile and pictures provided, the guy was lean and cute, twenty-three years old, and straight-curious, but sadly, he was ten miles away. You would’ve loved to slobber on his dick, show him that a man knows another man’s pleasure.

Your area was a dry wasteland, drier than the Sahara Desert. Nobody was only online, but a profile piqued your interest. Not only was he the only one online, but he was surprisingly close. Clicking on the profile, there were no pictures, but information.

31m, 6’2, 215 lbs, 9” inches, muscular, dom top (breeder), straight.

‘Straight?’ you thought. It wasn’t uncommon for straight men to go onto these types of sites, wanting to have sex with men without vocally coming out to their loved ones, even going as far as to cheat on their wives, or they want to gaslight themselves into thinking that it's not gay as long as they’re not the ones being penetrated. Straight men confuse you. It's truly mind-boggling in their reasoning.

While you were deep in your thoughts, the man was coming closer. The distance was being slashed as the other guy was interested in getting his dick sucked.

Jason groped his massive bulge, squeezing his dick through his pants as he looked at your profile. The original plan was to go home and maybe pick up a hookup along the way to have a warm pussy wrap around his massive, throbbing dick. He needed some relief after nearly botching an operation and having his ass reprimanded by his employer. There were none, though, so he moved on to plan B.

He became aware of Sniffies from one of his colleagues. It was a gay hook-up site where gay and straight, even trans, men could find one another. The reason he was told this was that he wasn’t scoring any pussy and his distant, horny mind was interfering with work. He needed his balls to be drained, to have a hot mouth or pussy milk his dick. That’s when his partner suggested the site.

—

“That’s fucking gay. Why would I have another man suck me?” Jason bickered, taken aback by what was being said to him. There was no way in hell that he was going to fuck or stick his dick into another man. His dick was exclusively for pussy.

“Bro, I swear, he sucked my dick better than my girl. Plus, he gave me the feeling of anal!” the guy said, going into depth about gay sex and the sensational feeling and orgasm he experienced—the greatest bust in his life.

“Whatever, man, I’m not doing that gay shit,” Jason said, dismissing the other guy, but his dick throbbed at the thought. It's like his dick has a mind of its own; it doesn’t care if the hole or mouth belongs to a man or woman. It just wants to fuck.

“You're lost, dude.”

—

Despite being against the idea of having another man suck his dick, Jason hastily created a profile, adding some information but no pictures in case someone recognized him. He had to look up some terms used, but it wasn’t long before he was browsing the map. His neurons activated when he saw the various profiles. His dick jumped at the sight of another man’s ass, blood pumping into his massive piece of flesh as he scrolled through the man’s pictures.

Without shame, Jason dipped his hand into his pants, pushing past his underwear to stroke his dick. He walked and stroked, observing several profiles on the map, squeezing his dick and licking his lips whenever he saw ass. The filtering tool was heaven-sent, removing all the tops and showing the bottoms. Then, your profile popped up. You were the closest to him, and you were online—a green marker on the top.

“Fuck… that’s a fat ass.” Jason groans, looking up from his phone to see the approximation of your location via the map. Your profile showed you were close, inside a building on the beach. It didn’t take long for him to find what he was looking for: a public bathroom structure.

‘Bingo’

You heard the bathroom door swing open, the hinges squeaking and producing an ear-shattering screeching sound that echoed in the empty bathroom. You jolted up, your relaxed body tensed. You sat up straight, no longer leaning against the tank as if you were in your room. Your legs closed and sprang back from the corners.

‘Why is someone here?! Is it that guy? Has to be.’ Your cock jumped at the thought of that man being here and his nine-inch dick. It has you drooling, your body physically reacting by producing saliva in anticipation of you getting your hands and mouth wrapped around it. How would it taste? How would it feel in your hands? Is he lying about his size?

The man’s heavy footsteps echoed, his shoes clicking against the tiled floors as his shadow came into view. You turned off your phone and held your breath. The stall door next to yours swung open, creating the same screeching before slamming closed. Your gaze followed his feet, and that’s when you noticed a huge hole cut out in the metal between the stalls.

‘Oh… OH’

You stumbled upon a gloryhole. This was a turn of events. You’ve seen glory holes in porn videos, but never in real life. The idea of sucking an anonymous man’s dick through a hole in the wall made your dick pump and your hole weep. Hearing the other man’s groans as you vigorously sucked and drained his dick—imagining his face twisted with pure pleasure as he pumped loads down your throat, feeding you his thick cum.

Your breathing became shallower, your hand returning to stroking as you tried to see the other side. Then a deep, masculine voice called from the other side.

“Suck my dick,” The anonymous man said. He didn’t give you time to respond before pushing his dick and balls through the hole. He wasn’t giving you an option; he was commanding you. There was no room for opposition as his dick stood tall and proud, clearly arrogant about its length and thickness. You could sense that he was a macho man from his tone, but by goodness, did his dick look appealing.

It's like you were hypnotized by it, salivating at the mouth, and your brain short-circuited and shut down as your instincts told you to suck it. Nine inches of meat and veined thickness, throbbing from the cold bathroom air and the expectation of a warm mouth sucking it. The flustered, red cockhead was leaking pearly beads of precum. Your eyes traveled down to see his dusted, heavy, egg-shaped balls.

Your night just got better.

Hastily kneeling on the bathroom floor, giving you a further close-up of this anonymous man’s massive cock. Everything about it screamed dominance and control—demanding your submission to it. Your mind is hazy with lust and need as you start to get to work on the man’s massive cock.

You gave experimental licks, dragging your wet tongue along the skin and veins. You could hear the man biting back his breathing, but that was gonna change. You moved your mouth to his heavy, sagging balls, sucking on them with vigor and with the intent to make him vocal. You wanted to hear those groans and moans, knowing that you were giving a straight man better head than his past partners or hookups.

Your head buried between his balls, his massive cock resting on your face as you serviced him. Your tongue swirled and pulled at them; you could feel how heavy and full his sack was in your mouth. You can tell he was backed up, his hot cum waiting to spurt out of his dick, eager to be milked.

As you sucked on them, a salty taste landed on your buds—must have been sweating in his pants all day. His pheromones were overwhelming, intoxicating even as your nose pressed against the source—buried deep in his sack. The musky and manly fumes are getting into your head, clouding your mind and senses.

You continued to inhale his delicious, musky scent, your eyes rolled back, making you want to stay in this position for the rest of the night. It was like you were caged by his scent, bound to kneel and suck for eternity—something you wouldn’t mind.

You continued to massage the man’s balls with your mouth, lathering them with your saliva and flicking the sacks. Your wish was granted as the man was becoming vocal. His heavy breathing and moans bounced off the walls as the straight, macho facade dropped.

“Yeah… keep sucking… f-fuck.” Jason’s breathing faltered as he let out deep, manly moans. He held onto the metal wall, amazed by how eagerly you sucked. More moans and groans choked out as you began to multitask, stroking his dick while sucking his balls. Your hand was firmly gripping and stroking his meat, a simple stroke, but you were purposefully milking him—squeezing strings of precum out of his slit and spreading it on his sensitive tip.

Jason didn’t want to admit it, but that bastard was right. This was better than anything he’s experienced before. You were a passionate and eager slut, going for his dick’s weak points. It felt like he was about to have a mind-numbing orgasm, and this was just you worshipping his nuts and stroking.

‘What would his mouth feel—’

You pulled back and didn’t wait to breathe as you wrapped your eager, wet mouth around the man’s shaft. The taste of his bitter precum hit first before subsiding as you bobbed your head up and down. Your tongue swirled and toyed with the slit, lapping and drinking the precum that oozed before shifting to the rest of his dick. You tightened your lips around his shaft, suctioning and hollowing your cheeks for better effectiveness. You could feel every ridge and vein as you took him deeper into your throat; the remaining inches were covered by your hand.

“Oh yeah,” Jason moaned, “That’s fucking good.”

“Mmmm,” you moaned back, happily taking the compliment. You were determined to rock this straight man’s world, drain his heavy balls, and give him the best earth-shattering orgasm.

You kept bobbing your head, taking as much into your mouth before stopping, cockwarming the anonymous man’s massive dick. The heavy piece of meat throbbed and gushed as it reveled in the warm, wet oral cavern. Jason felt like his dick was melting and being cooked, leading to more vocal responses and heavy breathing.

“Wish I knew you gays were this cock hungry… would’ve done this sooner,” Jason moans, his balls tightening and churning as he teeters on the brink of his orgasm. The only thing on the older man’s mind was to cum down your throat—reward you for your service with his hot, thick cum. He conjures the image of you swallowing his seed, kneeling and looking at him with your fucked out eyes.

You grinned. You had this straight man wither before you, his moans, groans, and praises filled your ears. It gave you a sense of control and dominance over him. He was like this because of you. His massive dick was hard and throbbing because of your mouth sucking the soul out of him. You were gonna have this man standing on his forefeet, toes clenching as his heavy sack was gonna be drained of his seed.

What an amazing feeling.

The feeling made your cock throb and ache. You wrapped your free hand around it and mimicked the way you were sucking. Long and deep strokes, spreading and lathering your cock with precum until it glistened in the fluorescent light. You shifted your knees to alleviate the stiffness, pulling back with a wet pop. You took deep breaths, your eyes half-lidded as you stared at the massive shaft—coated with precum and saliva, throbbing as it missed the warmth of your mouth wrapped around it.

You could hear he was disgruntled, asking with bated breaths about why you stopped and to wrap your mouth around his shaft again. You weren’t going to do that, instead opting to squeeze the flustered, swollen cockhead while mouthing and kissing the rest of his massive shaft.

“F-fuck… you love this dick, don’t you?” Jason moans. A deep, masculine laugh followed. Jason is aware of how magnificent and breathtaking his dick is. He was the whole package, physically wise: muscular, tall, and sporting a nine-inch dick—won the genetic lottery. He basked in the attention and admiration, purposefully going shirtless whenever he worked out, letting women ogle him, even men.

He didn’t mind men leering at him; he just didn’t wanna fuck them, until now.

“I do,” you replied, panting as you eagerly and desperately lick his dick before taking the shaft into your mouth. You moaned at the flavor and the heavy weight touching your tongue again. The vigor returned as you gulped and choked on every inch of the man’s shaft.

“Not gonna last much longer… be a good cocksucker… and take my seed—fuuuuuckkkk!” Jason roared out. He slammed his hips into the metal wall, pushing his dick further into your mouth as he stood on his toes. His body shook from the force, his backed-up balls unleashing weeks' worth of cum.

You could feel his dick expanding in your mouth, see his balls throbbing and tightening as he was pushed to the edge. The first shots of cum hit the back of your throat. You tried to swallow as much as you could, but your lungs were burning. You choked and pulled back, gasping for air, which soothed the burning sensation in your chest.

But the man’s dick didn’t stop cumming as his thick seed painted your face—shooting ropes of cum all over your face. After taking a couple of seconds to breathe and to reposition, you promptly took his dick back into your mouth. The flavor of his cum rammed into your taste buds as you could hear the man’s guttural moans echoing in the small space.

Even after Jason deposited his load, he was shocked to feel you continuing to bob your head. He stuttered out a weak moan, almost falling back as you squeezed his dick and balls, intending to drain the last few drops; you were sucking on it like a straw in a cold glass drink.

For three minutes, you sucked on his massive cock before pulling back, satisfied having drained a massive one. Jason’s dick lay flaccid, which still looked big despite being deflated. It was sad to see it pulled back from the hole. You could hear the rustling of clothing and hastened retreat. The stall door squeaked open with the familiar sound of shoes clicking against the tiled floor, growing farther.

“Thanks, man.”

That was the only thing the anonymous man said before leaving the bathroom. You were left in the bathroom stall, disheveled and sweaty, with your hand and the floor coated in ropes of cum. You weakly pushed yourself up, your knees flustered and ached as your skin dug into the rough tiled floor.

“Nasty, can’t believe I actually did this,” you mumbled, sitting on the toilet seat and yanking the cheap toilet paper from the holder. It was a fantasy to suck or fuck another man in public—in a discreet area, but it has the same adrenaline and risk that made your cock throb. Maybe you would’ve picked a more desirable location than a dirty bathroom on the beach, but you got to suck a massive dick.

That dick definitely and righteously earned its place as number one. The length and thickness, how it felt heavy and filled your mouth, and the flavor—you could keep sucking on it all day for the next fifty years.

But disappointingly, he was straight and most likely a one-time hookup. You should’ve expected something like this. You wiped off any remaining cum with the cheap toilet paper provided before leaving the stall to wash your hands. The room was quiet, other than the rushing sound of water going down the drain and your soft breathing.

Leaving the bathroom, you began your journey home. When you turned on your phone, the Sniffies website opened and loaded, showing you a new notification in your inbox.

“Name's Jason. Gonna need my dick sucked from now on.” The message reads, and below it was another picture of that massive dick.

Jason made you his official cocksucker.

…

It became a weekly, more like a daily occurrence.

Same bathroom and stalls, at the same time, but recently, morning and afternoon times were added. Jason was sticking his thick, massive cock through the hole, and you were quick to get your knees and worship that massive thing. Your warm mouth wrapped around it, eagerly sucking and choking as you wanted Jason to feed you his thick, creamy seed. You wanted to hear him let out those deep, manly groans as he unloads inside your mouth.

Never in a million years would Jason consider fucking another man, let alone getting his dick sucked. But after his encounter with you and how you sucked and gulped every drop of his cum down your gullet, he wanted more. Best blowjobs he’s ever received, his heavy balls being drained every day by an eager cocksucker. Your service also helped him with performance during an operation, earning praise and a bigger cut from his employer.

He was satisfied, but Jason wanted more. His dick and mind yearned for the feeling of another man’s tight ass wrapped around it. This need was further exacerbated by an extreme and fierce intake of gay porn and his partner babbling about how ass is better than pussy. You’re the best throat he’s had in years, and if your mouth is that good, he could only imagine what your ass feels like.

Your legs and cheeks spread open, your tiny rosebud eagerly waiting to be spilt. It wouldn’t be difficult to mount and fuck you into the ground. His dick leaked as he visualized the feeling and appearance of your tight anal walls clenching around his massive dick, pulling it deeper as he aggressively jackhammered your ass. He wasn’t going to stop until you were fucked dumb by his dick, nothing in your head, just moans and pleas for him to continue.

He was going to make this happen.

“Wanna fuck that ass.”

It was a simple, clear message, but it had you walking fast, quickening your pace as you didn’t hesitate to fulfill your own and his desire. Ever since you saw Jason’s dick through the gloryhole on that day, you wanted to feel it split your ass open and fuck you into oblivion. The length pushing into your tight, warm ass—deep thrusts as he rearranged your guts. The thickness spreading your anal walls, you could feel every vein and ridge grinding against your nerves, and his heavy balls slapping and mushing against yours. Despite being drained daily, they were still pumping huge loads—painting and filling your mouth with the thick goodness.

You could feel your hole aching and itching for Jason’s massive cock. The inside is burning and leaking for more, desperate to feel everything. The dildo you used beforehand might have been the reason for the aching sensation, and now, with the promise of being rammed by Jason, it demanded the real thing—rejecting the fake, silicon toy for the real deal.

You had been waiting for this moment. You didn’t want to bring it up in case it scared Jason away, and you’d lose access to easy dick and cum. At least, deep down, you had a hunch he’d come around eventually; they always do.

It was early in the morning, the sun having risen hours ago. You could see the once-closed businesses opening their doors and preparing for the day. There was a delicious, mouthwatering smell that mingled with the salty ozone aroma, the scent of food vendors, and the aroma of restaurants cooking their meals. There weren’t many people out, just scattered clusters along the sidewalk—no one on the beach.

Once you arrive at the bathroom, you do what you’ve been doing for the past couple of weeks: you wait for the accustomed sound. As you waited, a pit formed in your stomach. Your heart beat, and your breathing quickened, adrenaline rushing as an internal conflict took place. What if he chickens out, leaving you embarrassed and your time wasted? What if the wrong guy comes? Can you take it?

The big moment came when the door echoed the familiar squeaking and screeching. Footfalls clicked against the tiled floor, growing closer with each long stride. Then your stall closed and locked. You looked up, and your eyes were blessed with the sight of the sexiest man alive.

He had a polished yet rugged appearance—maturity that you liked. Light stubble dusted his chin and defined jawline, snaking beneath his nose. The rest of his features were covered. The wayfarer-style sunglasses blocked his eyes, but you could feel them boring into your being, predatory and hungry for what's coming next. He sported a backwards cap with strands of hair peaking out and sticking to his forehead.

That’s when you noticed he was sweating. Your gaze shifted to the rest of his body, taking in the eye candy that Jason was. His light-skinned complexion glistened with sweat, the fluid coating every nook and cranny. You made an educated guess about what he worked out before coming here. You zeroed in on his thick pectoral slabs; chest hair peeked from underneath his white tank top. You could make out the shape of his nipples—they were solid and pointy.

His tank top stuck to him like a second skin, giving you a full viewing pleasure of his ripped, sculpted body. His abs are etched deep and defined with bulging biceps and thighs as thick as trees. Everything about Jason was making you salivate and unimaginably horny—the itching was getting worse.

“Like what you see?” Jason teased, smirking as he peeled his sweaty tank top, revealing his chest hair matted with sweat. Your gaze followed the trail of hair, starting from his pectorals down the valley of his sculpted, defined abs. Your dick jumped when Jason peeled off his shorts, the belt clicking and clanking as he discarded it—tossing the garment to the side. His massive dick hangs between his thick, tree trunk thighs.

“Come on, don’t keep me waiting.” Jason grins, raising his muscular arm over his head, exposing his furry patch. Words stuck in your throat as Jason starts tugging his dick, the massive shaft growing in his hand.

You quickly stripped off your clothing, pulling and yanking at the fabric. Your heart was thumping, giddy with the anticipation of feeling Jason’s muscular body pressing against yours. The dream you’ve been having for weeks was coming true. You painted vivid images of Jason’s body, and he fit the description. You imagined running your hands over his shredded form, fingertips gliding over his coarse, scruffy hair, and feeling his warm, solid body molding against you.

Once your clothing was discarded, Jason paused his tugging and reached out to pull you closer. You let out a “oof” as you were pressed against the man’s solid, sweaty body. You could feel his dick throbbing against your thigh, pulsing from the contact of your relatively cold skin.

What caught your attention was Jason’s masculine funk. The man still had his arm over his head, letting his funk fill the air around you. It was making your head dizzy, causing it to swirl around in circles. Your breathing deepened as the heady scent filled your nose. Your body moved on its own, and without pause, you went in for that funk—burying your head and inhaling the sublime, heady mix of sweat and pheromones.

“Fuuucckk.” Jason exhaled, chuckling as he watched you worship his pit. You were something else. Hell, maybe he’s bisexual. He’s never experienced such depravity and eagerness.

You weren’t in control of your body as your primal instincts took over. You didn’t just sniff, you ran your tongue over the furry patch, licking and probing while your other hand kneaded Jason’s pecs. You began to thrust your hips, grinding your aching dick against Jason’s thick thighs—with him moving in rhythm.

“T-that’s it… keep g-going,” Jason stutters, letting out breathy and throaty moans. His free hand moves down to grope your ass, marveling at how it fills and spills through his fingers. Men have fat asses, too? Just feeling your ass in his palm was making his dick ooze precum—smearing against your thigh as he followed your eager rhythm. Your bodies moved in unison.

You licked slowly down his armpit, gliding your tongue to his hairy pecs as you wanted to feel every crevice of Jason’s body. Your dick throbbed from feeling Jason’s rough hands squeezing your ass—smearing fluids on his thigh. Soft moans escaped your lips, muffled by sucking and biting on his nipples. Jason tilts his head back, and another moan pulls from his lips. As much as he was enjoying this, he needed to be inside you.

“That’s enough. Now, how about you get my dick wet? I want to feel this tight ass.” Jason said, slapping your ass cheek, the skin rippling from the impact of his palm—the sound echoing off the tiled walls.

You didn’t hesitate, licking your way down his body, past his navel, following the happy trail to your happy meal. Kneeling before Jason’s ripped, dominant body, his dick came into your view, erect and standing proud, beads of sticky precum oozing, and his heavy, furry balls dangling. You took the massive thing into your mouth, lips tightening around it as it glided back and forth—holding and ramming your tonsils over and over.

Jason groans in ecstasy as he hears you slobbering and choking on his dick. Your wet mouth coating his thing with copious amounts of saliva, lathering and preparing it for penetration. He moved his hands to the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair—guiding and holding you in place. Your mouth was enough to make him cum, but he held back. If it were any other time, he would’ve fed you his load, but not now.

“Bend over.” Jason grunts, gripping your hair and pulling you off his dick.

You took deep breaths, eyes locked on Jason’s massive, glistening shaft—admiring the sight. Every ridge was generously lathered, the cockhead flustered and pulsing. You overworked your glands to produce enough saliva for preparation; you should’ve brought lube. When Jason spoke again, you scrambled off the floor and gripped the toilet’s tank—presenting your ass to the man who’s gonna fuck you as if you were a virgin.

“Mmm, this is what I like to see.” Jason groans, his hand making contact with your ass, delivering another slap that rocks your body. He marvels at your ass before lathering one and then two fingers.

You gasped as you felt Jason’s thick fingers teasing your hole, rimming the tight ring of muscles with his tips. Your hands hardened their grip on the ceramic tank, holding onto the porcelain for stabilization as Jason worked his fingers—stretching and scissoring your hole. You could feel them pressing around your inner walls, bumping and poking the flesh. It felt so good, your ass clenching around the invading fingers at the thought of Jason’s dick replacing them.

“So fucking tight,” Jason growls. He could hear your whines and moans growing louder as his fingers touched and rammed into a certain area. That must have been the elusive sweet spot inside of men. He could see your legs wobbling and your dick flopping between your legs—thick strings of precum gushing out as your dick was painfully throbbing and flustered.

Then Jason pulled his fingers out, deeming you prepared for the main event. He watched your entrance pulsing and clenching around nothing, searching for something to fill it and eagerly drag it in. Your hole went from stretched and gaping to small and tight—incredible. He needed to be inside you immediately.

You let out a disappointed whine, but that was quickly shut down when you felt a thick, blunt head pressing against your tight sphincter. Jason gripped his massive cock with one fist, positioning and pushing the helmet through your entrance. There was some resistance before his massive shaft pierced the tight ring, his cockhead stretching your hole as a flash of pain consumed you.

“Oh, f-fuck… y-you’re so huge.” You cried, your fingers digging into the ceramic tank. If it were a cheap toilet, the damn thing would’ve shattered from the force you were applying. You stood on your forefeet, your legs and body shivering as Jason continued to push his massive cock until he was balls deep—his heavy sack mashing against yours.

The oxygen was knocked out of you, and drool dribbled out of your mouth as you choked on your saliva. Your chest heaved rapidly as you tried to calm down and relax. Your mind was racing, but the immense sexual pleasure clouded you. This man was making you feel like a virgin again.

Your asshole is being split open beyond belief, the burning sensation from the massive shaft grinding against your inner, pink walls. You could feel Jason’s dick breaching depths you didn’t know were possible.

“Shhiitt. Fucking tight. Feels like I’m about to cum.” Jason said, letting out a bellowing groan. His rough, meaty hands moved to your hips, gripping them with an iron hold. Jason withheld from thrusting, biting back so he doesn’t cum, but you were making that impossible. Your ass was massaging and tightening around him, pulling him deeper.

The pause was grueling. It felt tight, figuratively and literally. The tight, closed space of the stall was becoming unbearable. There was no sound besides labored breathing and soft moans. The pause ended when Jason pulled out, leaving the cockhead before plummeting back into your ass. The once quiet room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping and moans.

Your eyes rolled back into your head from each forceful thrust—your dick flopping back and forth, slapping against Jason’s balls. Jason tilted his head back, groaning as this was the best sex he’s had in years. Your ass happily accepts his massive dick, seemingly learning the shape and size instantly.

“You like this dick inside this hot cunt?” Jason groans, slapping your ass with each thrust of his hips

“Y-yes! Feels so good.” You exclaimed, breathless with each thrust. Your dick is on the verge of shooting its load.

Then the bathroom’s entrance screeched open, the sound reverberating off the walls. Before you could react, Jason pulled you against his body—his sweaty, matted hair grinding against your back. He stilled his thrust and clasped his meaty hand on your mouth, ensuring total silence. You both listened to the clicking of sandals against the floors, followed by the familiar sound of piss streaming and hitting the urinal.

Jason didn’t care, though. This random stranger wasn’t going to prevent him from fucking your tight ass. He discreetly fucks you with short but deep thrusts. Your eyes widen before becoming half-lidded when you feel his free hand stroking your dick—each stroke mimicking his thrusts as he was determined to fuck your brains out.

He didn’t care that another man was a couple of feet away from them.

“Shhh. As much as I wanna hear those moans, I don’t wanna get caught—unless you want that.” Jason purrs into your ear, his voice low and deep. He never thought he’d be into exhibitionism, but the adrenaline was making his dick painfully throbbing inside your ass, signaling his impending orgasm.

“You want that?” Jason growls, disregarding the other man as he delivers a series of deep thrusts. Wet squelching and skin slapping grow louder—surely alerting the newcomer. Your moans were muffled by Jason’s hand, but you didn’t care, not with his other hand stroking your dick, tugging and squeezing the thing as he fully intended to make you cum.

Meanwhile, the other man was cleaning off his cockhead after relieving himself in the urinal. He bobbed his head side to side, jamming out to the music playing from his headphones. He was unaware of the debauchery happening a couple of feet away. That’s when he heard muffled groans and gruffing coming from the last stall. He shrugged it off as someone taking a dump—brave since it was a public bathroom; if it were him, he’d hold it in till he got home.

The groaning got louder, slicing through the stream of water from the faucet—even his headphones. Wow, that guy must be fighting demons. Probably constipation. Then he heard banging against the metal sheets, fists colliding in rhythm, and the signature groan ranging. It was getting kind of awkward. The poor guy was probably embarrassed about letting it rip.

“Good luck, dude,” the guy said, drying his hands and exiting the bathroom to continue his morning jog across the beach. He remained blissfully unaware that two men were having sex in the stall—the groaning and banging were products of their coupling.

“Finally, he’s gone… not gonna last much longer. Gonna breed this tight cunt.” Jason growls, removing his hand from your mouth. His thrusts became sloppy, but he continued to jackhammer your quivering hole. He’s since removed his hand from your dick, transferring it to your hips.

“P-please, shoot your load inside me!” you begged, tilting your head back to rest on Jason’s shoulders—arching your back to let him go deeper. Your prostate was constantly being rammed into, the cockhead hitting the bundle of nerves—setting your body ablaze as the message of pleasure travelled through you. You let your moans pour out of your mouth, no longer shackled by shame and Jason’s hand.

Jason didn’t get to respond when you overshadowed him with your bellowing moans. Your flopping dick burst, spraying cum all over the ground and toilet. Your thick seed flying up and down as you came hands-free. The orgasm left you exhausted, panting, and heaving as it felt like your soul was taken by the reaper. Jason held you close to him, pressing your sweaty bodies against each other.

“Oh fuck, I’m about to bust! Open that tight cunt.” Jason commanded as his dick was being suffocated. Your orgasm caused you to tighten around him, squeezing and milking him.

“Y-yes! B-breed…” you replied, completely out of it, but still hungry for Jason and his thick seed.

“Yeah, here it comes—yeah—yeah—fuuucckk,” Jason growls and groans, his body convulsing. He gave a few more thrusts, his heavy balls throbbing against yours as his big dick erupted in your ass. You could feel his dick throbbing before thick ropes of cum spewed from the slit, flooding your deepest recesses until his balls were drained.

You both were drained and exhausted. The smell of sex and semen choked the air. You both were panting, taking gulps of air. Jason kept his dick lodged deep inside you, preventing his seed from gushing out of your fucked hole. This was the best experience you both had. Jason is certain he can never go back; the damage was done, and he’ll gladly take it.

“Round 2? At my place?”

The End

Author’s note: Hello, my strawberries! I hope y’all enjoyed this fic! This is probably the fastest I’ve completed one. I feel like I really captured Jason. God, I need that man. There is certainly more content for him. Mark Grayson may be next.

Special thanks to my proofreader: @sagethegaywitch

TAGLIST: @hiddens-eden @spnfanboy777 @buckyshusband0 @zamfam4272 @raspberryyuuki @maxxioislost @furiousflowercreation @ghostking4m @sluttyhusband @wolf-knights @your-cow-boy @mack-thedork @starboye @boypied @sleep-0-deprived @cronasluvr @cruelwormcurse @songmgi @qi-rong-husband @roryroro @nightyknightowo @mwttw-lsk

[applepiiex]

Hiii, I don't really know if you do parts 2, but I started following you since I read the "House A Home" fic and it's been absolutely stuck on my head over and over again that I have read it easily about 5 times already. I was wondering if you could do a second part where, maybe, it has been a couple months since the end of the fic (maybe a year?)

Reader is in the middle of a business trip away from home when it's late and Toji finds Megumi crying on the couch after work, when Toji tries to comfort him he just denies him and tells his something like

"I want dad..."

And when Toji tries to comfort him again telling him that dads right there he just sobs and shakes his head, repeating his words for Toji to understand

"I don't want papa, I want dad..."

While he just starts crying again, Toji realizes that Megumi is actually talking about reader.

I think that would be really cute and show to Toji how much reader is important to Megumi and maybe to himself a little. Or something like that, you can take all the creative freedom you want, I absolutely love the way you wrote them as a family !

Hope this request isn't too much and a bunch of info dump and if it is you can decide what to change, or not even post it, I'll be fine with that.

It's just and idea that have been popping in my mind recently <3

IN MY HEART !

Toji Fushiguro x Male!Reader

Toji never thought that someone would stay, much less put up with his kid. Not that Megumi was a bad kid, but reserved. After so many people, Megumi didn't let any of his father's flings ever have a say in how he feels. However, here you've proven to be the exception.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The apartment is warm when Toji Fushiguro gets home. Warm in that quiet, lived-in way he still hasn’t fully gotten used to. There’s laundry folded on the arm of the couch. Tiny sneakers kicked off by the door. The fridge hums steadily beneath a clutter of magnets you and Megumi collected from cheap grocery stores and corner shops like they were priceless souvenirs.

Home. His home.

The thought still catches strangely in his chest sometimes.

It’s late. Later than he promised he’d be. The job ran long, then traffic got backed up halfway through the city, and now exhaustion sits heavy in his bones as he shrugs off his jacket. 

Usually by this point, Megumi’s asleep already. Usually you’re curled on the couch waiting up for him with some shitty reality show playing quietly in the background. But you’re three states away for work this week, and the apartment feels different without you in it. Too quiet.

Toji rubs at the back of his neck as he steps farther inside. “Megs?” No answer.

His brows knit immediately. The TV glows softly in the darkened living room, muted cartoons flickering against the walls, and there, curled into the corner of the couch beneath one of your blankets is Megumi.

The little boy’s shoulders shake silently. Toji freezes. “…Megumi?”

Megumi jerks slightly at the sound of his voice. Toji’s stomach twists immediately. His son’s face is blotchy red from crying. Tears cling wetly to his lashes while he presses both fists hard against his eyes like he’s trying to stop more from coming out.

Toji moves closer automatically. “What happened?”

Megumi shakes his head hard.

“Hey.” Toji crouches carefully in front of the couch. “Talk t’me, brat.”

Another shake. Then a tiny broken hiccup. Toji feels genuine panic start crawling unpleasantly up his spine. Megumi rarely cried like this anymore. Not since you. Not since the apartment started feeling stable and warm and safe.

Toji reaches out instinctively, rough palm brushing against the little boy’s knee. “C’mere.”

Megumi immediately scoots backward instead. “No.” The word is tiny. Wobbly. But it still hits Toji square in the chest.

“…What?”

“I want dad.”

Toji blinks once. His exhausted brain struggles to process the sentence properly. “I’m right here.”

Megumi’s face crumples harder instantly. “No,” he sobs, voice cracking. “I don’t want papa.”

The words land like a punch. Toji goes still.

Megumi curls tighter into the blanket, crying openly now. “I want dad…”

And suddenly Toji understands. Not papa. Dad. You.

The apartment goes strangely quiet around him for a second. Megumi’s tiny shoulders shaking beneath your blanket. Your blanket. The one Megumi drags around the apartment whenever you travel because it smells like your detergent and the stupid citrus fabric softener you always buy.

Toji stares at his son silently, and something in his chest aches so hard it almost feels unbearable. Because Megumi misses you. Not casually. Not in the vague fond way kids miss adults sometimes. No. This is the kind of missing that lives deep in little bones. The kind built slowly over bedtime stories and packed lunches and cartoon pancakes and warm hands helping tie tiny shoes before school. You carved yourself into Megumi’s life so gently that neither of them noticed it happening.

Until now.

Toji swallows hard. “…Hey,” he says quietly.

Megumi keeps crying. Toji’s never been good at this part. He knows how to fight. Survive. Bleed quietly. But comforting people… Especially people he loves… Still feels like trying to hold water in scarred hands.

He sits carefully on the edge of the couch instead. The cushions dip beneath his weight. Megumi doesn’t move away this time.

“That bad, huh?” Toji mutters softly.

Megumi sniffles miserably. “He always reads m’story.”

The tiny devastated way he says it nearly kills Toji instantly, because yeah, you do. Every night. Even when exhausted. Even when Megumi asks for the same dinosaur book six times in a row.

Toji rubs a hand slowly over his jaw. “He’ll call tomorrow.”

“I want him now.” Christ. Toji closes his eyes briefly. Then sighs.

“C’mere, Megs.” 

This time, after a long hesitant second Megumi crawls into his lap. Still crying. Toji wraps both arms around him automatically, holding the little boy carefully against his chest while tiny fingers clutch desperately at his hoodie.

“He said four sleeps,” Megumi mumbles tearfully.

“Yeah.”

“But it’s too many.”

Toji exhales slowly through his nose. You’d only been gone two days, and apparently both of them were handling it badly. He rests his chin lightly against Megumi’s messy hair.

“He misses you too, y’know.”

Megumi sniffles. “Really?”

“Hn.”

“How do you know?”

Because the apartment feels colder without you in it. Because Toji keeps reaching for you in bed before remembering the sheets beside him are empty. Because dinner tastes wrong when someone isn’t nagging him about eating vegetables. Because the silence feels heavier now that he’s learned what your laughter sounds like filling it.

But Megumi’s six.

So Toji just says quietly, “He called twice t’day askin’ about you.”

Megumi brightens slightly at that. “He did?”

“Wouldn’t shut up about how you’re probably forgettin’ to brush your teeth.”

“I never forget!”

“That’s what I said.”

Megumi huffs weakly against his chest. Toji’s hand drifts up automatically, fingers combing carefully through soft black hair.

He learned that from you. Everything soft, he learned from you. The realization settles heavily in his chest. A year ago, this apartment was barely livable. Megumi barely spoke. And Toji… Toji thought family was something that happened to other people.

Now his son cries because he misses bedtime stories from the man who painted over water stains and made clown pancakes and loved them both stupidly enough to stay.

“Papa?”

“Hm?”

Megumi tilts his head back slightly, eyes still watery. “Do you miss him too?”

Toji stills. Dangerous question. Tiny little thing. But dangerous. Megumi watches him with your same quiet patience. Waiting.

Toji looks away first. “…Yeah,” he mutters eventually.

The word comes rough. Honest. And maybe that’s what finally breaks something open in him. Because saying it out loud makes it real. You’re not temporary anymore. Not some soft thing passing through their lives. 

You’re woven into this place now.

Into Megumi.

Into him.

Megumi nods sleepily like the answer makes perfect sense. “Me too.”

Toji huffs out a quiet laugh through his nose. “Yeah, I know.”

The crying finally slows after that. Megumi sags heavily against him, exhausted from all the tears. Toji glances toward the clock. Too late to call you. You’re probably asleep in some hotel room across the country.

Still, he reaches for his phone anyway. Megumi notices immediately.

“Calling dad?”

“Nah.” Toji opens the camera instead.

Megumi blinks. “What’re you doing?”

Toji angles the phone carefully toward the two of them. “Quit lookin’ confused,” he mutters. “He’s gonna lose his mind if he finds out you cried this hard without him.”

Megumi giggles weakly despite himself. There it is. That tiny sound. Toji snaps the picture before Megumi can hide his face. Then another. One where Megumi’s tucked sleepily against his chest beneath your blanket. Safe. Loved. Home.

Toji stares at the photo for a long second before finally typing out a message beneath it.

your kid misses you.

think he’s emotionally manipulative.

come home soon.

He hesitates. Then adds, after another second:

we both do.

Megumi’s already half asleep against him by the time the message sends. Toji sets the phone aside carefully before leaning back into the couch. 

The apartment stays quiet around them. Soft. Waiting. And for the first time in his life, Toji Fushiguro realizes missing someone can feel a whole lot like love.

[malereadermaniac]

ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ Forced Mate - Alpha Zenin Naoya x Omega Male reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Plot: Naoya had the privilege to choose his Omega - your relationship with the heir after an arranged mating and marriage has many ups and downs

Featuring: Top!Alpha!Naoya x Bottom!Omega!Reader

Note: Not watched JJK, probably OOC!!

Warnings: Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

As expected by anyone who knew him, Naoya of course presented as an Alpha; and as the golden child of the clan, his father set out to find him the perfect mate as soon as possible. Naturally, this proved easier said than done. Naoya had been an egotistical narcissist since he was barely walking, he demanded that his opinions and choices be taken into account on the hunt for his mate, and hell did he have many opinions...

'A woman who doesn't know how to walk three paces behind her husband should be stabbed in the back'

Zenin Naoya was a known sexist. Once he had presented as an Alpha, many thoughts ran through Naoya's head; 'this was expected' - 'of course I'm an Alpha' - 'been stronger than these betas since I was a kid'. But also, after many self-indulgent and boastful thoughts, Naoya also thought 'Thank fuck I don't have to knock up some bitch'. The youngest heir of the Zenin clan was a fucking misogynist, getting a man pregnant seemed like a much sweeter deal than having to deal with a woman as his mate.

So, whilst his father was busy organising match-making meetings and courting hours for his son, Naoya was busy rejecting every single Omega brought to him; because of course, they were all female. The Zenin clan were still traditionalists, if Naoya was to mate with an Omega, that Omega was to at least be a woman. But as you'd expect, Naoya couldn't give less of a fuck about what the clan wanted. He only cared about himself. So once his father eventually gave in and began matchmaking the blonde with male Omegas, Naoya had made his choice. You. And what an honour you would find out this was (or rather quite the opposite). You had caught the Alpha's eye almost immediately after walking into the room. You had aristocratic blood, had undergone etiquette and submission training, you were healthy, and you had so many more 'appealing' qualities for an Omega; but Naoya cared for none of that. The brooding Alpha made most of his decisions on instinct and feeling alone, and it helped that you were quite the head-turner in the looks department. So the decision was made rather quickly. You were to be mated and married to the Zenin clan heir.

You thought you knew what you were in for. Being born into a powerful clan but presenting as an Omega meant one thing; you were a bartering piece, something to marry off in order to establish political relationships. Ever since you presented as an Omega, you had undergone many types of training to become the ideal mate, and you thought that you knew what to expect when it came to how an Alpha would treat you; badly. But boy did you underestimate just how bad it could get. After all of the contractual and political work was out of the way for your arranged marriage, you were immediately moved into the Zenin residence. You had your own room; small but not as crummy as those of the servants. Whilst Naoya viewed you as above all women, he still viewed you as less than any man due to your secondary gender, meaning that he wouldn't share his chambers with you, he wouldn't acknowledge you romantically; you may as well be his live-in prostitute... The night of your moving-in, the two of you were expected to mate; as in, you were expected to submit to Naoya and allow the Alpha to mark you. It was a hard night for you, the hardest by far. Naoya was an impatient man, a selfish man who cared only for his own pleasure, and even worse for you, a sadist by all means. You were in immense amounts of pain that night, the Alpha forcing his way inside of you and drilling into you the whole night; your screams and whines of pain egging him on, turning him on. Your body was covered in bite marks and hickeys, your nape permanently marked by Naoya; your now mate forever, your Alpha.

It did get better though. With time, Naoya began to tolerate you. Most of your interactions did of course still take place in his chambers; you would visit your Alpha's bedroom almost every single night at his request, leaving in the early hours of the morning back to your chambers. Naoya acknowledged you now though: a chuckled scoff when passing you in the gardens, allowing you at his dinner table, calling for you when he was bored. Of course, Naoya never spoke your name, he often had to be reminded of it by his advisors, he would instead call you 'Omega'; but weirdly, that was enough for you. You also couldn't complain about the sex! He may be a maniac, but Naoya sure does know his way around your body. The Alpha knows how to rut into you in ways that make you writhe and scream in pleasure, he knows how much pain you can take to where you aren't in agony, but you do cry out his name and shed a few tears; he knows you, and that's a lot coming from such a self-absorbed man. Naoya loves it when workers walk in on the two of you fucking; he acknowledges whoever walked in, but he doesn't stop whatever it is he's doing to you. Whether it be his fingers curling into your slicked hole, his tongue forcing your tight walls apart, his hand forcing your head up and down his length, or his dick visibly thrusting in and out of you, Naoya never lets an unexpected audience prevent his pleasure.

The Alpha would never admit it, too proud and narcissistic, but there are things he likes about you. Hell, Naoya fucking loves certain things about you. The blonde goes absolutely feral for your scent, demanding that you scent his room bi-weekly to "comfort his inner Alpha". Naoya will hold you closer while he fucks you, just to get more of your intoxicating, sweet scent. He'll even use your scent as an excuse to have you sleep in his bed; claiming that a mate's scent helps an Alpha sleep. That's another thing he's come to like - sharing his space with you, more specifically his bed. Naoya has become unable to sleep in an empty bed. He'd never admit to missing your weight beside him, to missing the scent of your hair as you curl into his muscular body; but Naoya knew deep down that he loved having you around. But again, the Alpha refused to vocalise his liking of you; you just had to assume from his actions that your Alpha didn't seem to mind you as much as he used to.

Naoya's ruts are another key part of your relationship with the Alpha. Knowing how he is when in his right mind, you can imagine how Naoya behaves during a rut. The man is a fucking menace. Your body usually goes limp from suffering multiple orgasms without breaks in between. Hickeys and deep bites always end up littering your body. Naoya's body glistens with a sheen of sweat as his muscles flex and tense after what must be ten orgasms in one night; the endurance and stamina of Alphas is a medical phenomenon. Naoya loves to be as close as physically possible to you when in rut, pushing his body down onto yours as he drills his thick, long cock in and out of your warm, tight hole. You switch positions many, many times in one night during one of Naoya's ruts; a favourite of his seemingly being speedbump, but with his muscular arm around your neck, your cheeks squished by his bulging bicep as the Alpha pounds you into the bed with a ridiculous amount of force. Usually, Naoya is talkative when messing around with you, loving the sounds you make and your squirms at his dirty talk, but a rut fully takes it out of him; all of the man's energy going to fucking, with none to spare for any words other than 'Omega' and 'mine'. That's another thing about his ruts, Naoya becomes extraordinarily possessive during them! During pre-rut, Naoya will have anyone who dares speak to you locked away for a week! The blonde has to always have some form of physical contact with you during his pre-ruts and becomes much less of a cunt; showing a more endearing side of himself when he demands to cuddle you and be around you constantly. During Naoya's full ruts, he never allows you to leave his side. The man could be dead asleep and if you get up to clean up or grab some water, he wakes up within seconds and grips your wrist as tight as he can, looking up into your eyes with his own, dark, brooding ones.

Your heats are a completely different story. Naoya is his usual self times ten! Such a fucking sadistic tease. He refuses to touch you where you want him to, going as slow as possible, and making your big, pretty eyes pink up with tears. You end up begging, pleading, crying mess before his dick gets anywhere near your ass! Your Alpha's fingers do most of the work for your first couple of orgasms, his mouth moving from your nape, to your scent gland for a hit of your hypnotic, sweet smell. Until you're screaming out incoherent pleas and 'Alpha' s, Naoya doesn't allow you the pleasure of fucking you to heaven and back; but damn, when you finally cave in and beg like a pathetic bitch (his own words), your world shatters. During your average heat, Naoya will make sure that you're writhing in pleasure beneath him as he roughs you up; the Alpha's eyes locked onto your immensely pleasured form, watching and admiring how physically and mentally overwhelmed you seem with pleasure, pleasure that only Naoya can provide for you. Kisses are a lot more common when you're in heat. Naoya knows that you are too dazed from the hormones running rampant throughout your body and brain to remember almost anything from your heat; so he lets some affection show here and there. His kisses are tender. So soft and even to an extent loving. The blonde fucking loves to interrupt your moans and desperate panting with a kiss, turning the moment of primal desire into a romantic one; the juxtaposition kinda turns him on, and it most definitely helps you with your heat! Naoya's kisses go right to your brain (dick), your inner Omega screaming in pleasure at the sign of affection; subconsciously understanding the kiss as 'my Alpha loves me', 'my Alpha cares'. And even though he would never admit it, Naoya did care about you.

Many months go by after your first night with your Alpha. A weird, but comfortable relationship blooming between you and Naoya. But this was an arranged marriage, the key word being marriage. So of course, Naoya's father pushed the two of you to get married as soon as possible. And the demands kept coming from the Zenin clan... House work. Resigning from your career. Submission. Children.

The Zenin clan needed an Heir; one that would take over even after Naoya. And you were expected to provide that. On the one hand, as an Omega, you did naturally crave having children in your life; caring for pups came naturally to you. But holy shit was it insulting. To be told to your face that you were good for nothing other than producing offspring; really knocked you down a few pegs. So much so that Naoya even noticed; he didn't like it. He liked that you usually had some fight in you; normally, you would clap back at him when he was being a cunt, and you would knock him down a few pegs. But after his father basically called you a breeding cow, you stopped being... interesting.

It got to the point that you were barely even talking to Naoya; simply presenting to him whenever he wanted to fuck. That pissed him off. Usually, you'd at least call him a name or insult him! What snapped you out of this little lull was Naoya himself; told you he secretly cared. A harsh slap to your face and your cheeks squished between the Alpha's masculine, strong hand, and you were sorted! Well, it was a little more than that... Naoya gave you a good talk too, tellin' you that you were more than just an incubator for his heirs, you were his after all; verbatim "Nothing that's mine is so boring and surface-level". So you sucked it up. All the opinions of the rest of the clan didn't matter anymore; you simply didn't care. Sure, you would produce an heir, you would produce many. But what a kick in the balls to all of the traditionalist cunts in the Zenin clan it would be if you raised your pups to be the exact opposite of what they wanted. And when you promised that to Naoya, his grin couldn't have stretched any wider.

I feel like this was really shit. Sorry. But I did really wanna get more omegaverse out cause I love it so so much! And Naoya is fucking hot.

[omobobamilk]

⊹ 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ₊˚ |￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣| | Katsuki Bakugou x m!Reader | |______/ᐠ - ˕-マ｡˚ᶻ 𝗓______________|

╰₊✧ ﾟ⚬𓂂➢ fucking n edging Katsuki in his own office

─ ✧⭑.ᐟ NSFW, Katsuki is a vocal bottom, "good boy," slight praise kink, fluff, top!reader

┈ㆍ✿ reblogs greatly appreciated!! ✿ㆍ⊹˚ㆍ✿ Masterlist ✿ㆍ┈

"Ughf! Ah! Ah- Nghh!"

Fuck, it's hot how vocal Katsuki gets during sex. You don't think you'll ever get tired of listening to his moans. It's cute, all his little noises and half-muffled whines.

His cries of "Ah! Ah! Ah!" warn you of his impending orgasm, and you're quick to still your hips, leaning forward and draping yourself over the trembling back of your boyfriend.

As you let him come down from the edge, ignoring his little "Nnf- fuck, don't- don't stop.." whimpers, you amuse yourself by watching beads of sweet-smelling sweat drip down the contours of his toned, muscled back.

Sometimes you wish you could just eat Katsuki — just chew him up and spit him out like bubblegum. How can everything about him be so perfect and hot?

Well, you're just going to have to restrain yourself to fucking and edging your poor boyfriend stupid.

"Fuck," Katsuki whines, wriggling his hips and clenching his lube-slick walls around your cock desperately. You choke back a groan — fuck, that feels good. Half-laying on top of Katsuki like this means your cock is buried deep inside. His hole is tight, wet, and perfect.

You smack his ass and watch the fat there jiggle.

"Why'd you.. fuck, don't stop, you- ngh- asshat b-bitch..." Katsuki's started to get overstimulated, if his stutter and mild lisp was anything to judge by. Poor thing.

You reach out and stroke his cheek, which he weakly jerks his head away from with a half-attempted snarl.

"Shh, be good," you murmur. "I thought you wanted to be my good boy."

A shudder runs through Katsuki at those words — making his hole clench down again, and you have to lean your forehead against his back to hold back your own sounds — and he stills.

You go back to stroking his cheek. This time, he doesn't pull away.

"Good boy. So obedient," you praise, and his hips buck weakly in response.

"Mmf..."

You smile. Katsuki's always so brazen and brash, and while you loved that fire in your relationship, you had to admit that when you got him like this, all weak and goopy, brain turned to a haze of denied pleasure, nothing but a desperate need to please and be good, this was a sweet treat that you loved indulging in.

Besides, Katsuki was an overworked top 5 pro-Hero. Your poor boyfriend needed a break or two, and getting fucked silly seemed to help. As much as he'd run his mouth whenever you got started, you could tell he loved it when you gently tongued his hole loose, stretched him open the rest of the way with your fingers (and his spit), and fucked him like a bitch.

Katsuki's just like that, you think to yourself, as you trace shapes with a gentle finger on his ticklish sides and feel him squirm underneath you.

He makes so much noise just to hear himself talk, but he's really just a good boy underneath.

You're so glad you get to see this side of him. Nobody else gets to, but he lets you. You're special to him; he's special to you.

You chuckle a little at your own sappiness. Ah, well.

Where were you?

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, ohfuckfuckfuckfuck- please!" Katsuki wails, burying his sweaty, red face in the crook of his elbows as you hold his wrists steady and start fucking into him once again.

There's another other thing that's cute about Katsuki: he's small. He's muscular and defined and handsome, sure, but your body is simply taller and broader in a way that his will never be. Your balls smack against his as you fuck his deliciously ruined hole, your body easily pins his down, and while your cock hits that sweet spot inside him and then slides past to bury deep, deep inside, his 5-inch cock twitches cutely and spurts precum on the floor of his office.

You watch the puddle of precum grow on that shiny waxed hardwood, and you wonder how big Katsuki will let you make it before he breaks down and starts sobbing for an orgasm.

[hunicumz]

"lackluster...?!" — (˶˃⤙˂˶)

boyfriend!sae x m!reader

tags — top!boyfriend!sae, bottom!m!reader, smut, use of petnames, creampie, dumbing down(?), brat reader(?), pwp, idk how to tag, no beta

words — 2.1k

you and sae have been living together for a couple months now but you've been dating for years before this.

obviously you understood sae had a strict routine and schedule being japan's greatest treasure but you never realised just how many hours go into his daily training. how exactly precise his diet must be or how rigorous his workouts typically are so being the generous, ever-so-caring boyfriend you are, you offered to help him train.

as you step in, your eyes instantly befall the poor laboured man currently jogging on the treadmill. you've thrown on one of sae's white track jackets lined off with blue fabric and some slightly too tight shorts that snug your thighs just right. you glance over at him and you just cant help but smile.

he looks so cute, his brows furrowed as he pushes through and beads of sweat knit themselves down his forehead. sae's only dressed in some track bottoms and a black tee that fills him out perfectly. his toned muscles are defined showing off his physique and making him look so effortlessly attractive. as if his body was sculpted from marble, his stature and his dimension absolutely exceptional.

hes so focused on his running he doesnt even notice your presence until you step into his peripheral.

he glances over at you nodding you up and down as he struggles to tear his eyes from you. he continues jogging, teal eyes trailing after you instead of the numbers on the screen.

"missed me so much you couldn't wait any longer?" he mused to himself, still pacing himself as his eyes travel you once more.

you simply smile slyly, taking a couple steps closer with a full water bottle in your hand. you lean against the handlebar of the treadmill and grin.

"don't tell me you forgot our deal? im here to help out, dummy."

with his slightly lips upturned, he pauses the machine under him and turns to face you. it isnt rare to see you in his clothes but damn do you look good right now.

he stepped off the treadmill, eyes glossing with intrigue. his hands come to sit at your waist comfortably; gaze not daring to look elsewhere.

"so what's for today, coach?" pressing his forehead against yours. his hand coming to circle the small of your back as you returned his touch with a smile.

"only some stamina training... your speed seems lackluster. definetly in need of some improvement." you hum out playfully, drawing a finger down his chest "it seems somebody needs a little extra training but thankfully I'm willing to help."

he rolled his eyes and dipped his head into the crook between your neck, trying not to scoff at your comment. "well then, lets not waste anymore time... my performance is in clear need of improvement, afterall."

sae began stepping forward as he held you in his arms, naturally making you follow suit. gently bringing a hand behind your head to cushion your fall as he presses you into an already spread out gym mat. you don't even blink let alone faze at this, meeting his enamoured gaze head-on. you're legs part reflexively, allowing him to fit into the new slot made available and giving him a grand view with you spread out just for him. you can feel his arousal press into you as he straddles you, hands coming to undo his track jacket on your body.

"wait, we need a stopwatch! what good is this training if not timed?" you chirp from under him, head already turning to the side for a phone. your hands pat around uselessly knowing sae definitely didnt care about some stupid timing but you were serious about wanting to train... or atleast making his training a little more fun...

sae quirked a brow down at you and blinked at you before huffing and reaching for his own phone. he quickly loaded the stopwatch, flashing the screen to you before placing it off to the side. even if he didn't care, seeing you flail about so stupidly over some timing was for-lack-of-a-better-word, cute. if you wanted it done, sae was sure to have it done in the context of anything.

"lets see how 'bad' my stamina really is then, hm?" his tone satiric yet playful.

you didnt take this as the threat it was meant to be. sae had always been so careful and gentle with you, as if you were the most delicate doll in the world. why should he act any differently today?

he hooked his thumb around his waistband seeing how you were already slipping your own shorts off and placed little pecks over your cheek stretching from your cheekbone down to your chin before finally reaching your plush little lips.

he held your legs up by the thighs, pushing them up over his shoulder as he fluttered his eyes open, pawing his tongue at your lips to ask for permission. when you part them he wastes no time enveloping his lover, a hand coming to cup his little dove's face. you feel him smile against your face as he nips your lower lip before finally pulling away.

"you just lay there, dove, ill make sure not to waste a second of my 'training', 'kay?" he says giving you a pat on the cheek as he moves his lips back to where they belong, on yours.

you felt a hand settle at your waist while another pushed your thighs apart to expose the growing arousal between your legs. sae's lips didnt come off yours until you felt two fingers tap against your lip, sae staring down at you expectantly. your eyes glossed excitedly, lips curling upwards as your playful gaze competes with his much darker and lustier.

without a doubt in your mind you open wide; gladly sucking on his fingers, slickening them with your spit. you looked up at him through lustful, half-lidded eyes knowing just how crazy you drive him when you get like that.

you felt his arousal grow against your folded lower half. he finally tugged the hem of his shorts completely off; freeing his shaft and allowing it to breath the cool air of the gym. he knows he shouldn't just thrust into you, he doesn't want to hurt you but damn do you make him just want to go berserk.

when decided his fingers were slick enough, he slipped them out from your mouth with a quiet pop and circled your hole watching as it twitched with every subtle movement of his hand. he pushed in a finger as he steadily thrusted it into you, watching for any pains. you're gasps only served to drive him even more, to hurry and feel you clench around him again. he inserted another finger and stretched you open, scissoring the warmth inside as you began to whine out. you're voice echoing through the gym, telling him to hurry up to which he didnt respond. only narrowing his eyes enthusiastically as he studied your expression.

he relishes those whines. he wants nothing more than to draw them out of you, a reminder of just how much he pleases you. a reminder that he is your number one and nobody else can take that title but him.

as you began to grumble (respectively, you realise, to yourself) insisting he's taking his time on purpose, he slipped his fingers out just as easily as they slide in and you felt something much larger and satiating line at your entrance. instinctively, almost like a cat, you perk up at the column threatening to pucker your ass.

with a swift push, you drop your head back and cry out as you feel his cock spear your insides. he buries deep into you, holding your legs up, as you lay there gaping at the mouth like you've never taken his dick before. you're tight little asshole never seemed to get used to him, no matter how many times you did i but this was the first time he had just pushed his way inside. you take a minute to collect yourself, head already tilting back as you're eyes flicker up to the man already inside of you. seemingly gleaming at the sight of you struggling to adapt to his cock, it delighted him in some odd way.

he nonchalantly picked up the phone and faced the screen to you as he smugly hit the stopwatch button, cock buried well within you. sae hummed at your expression, reveling in the fact he was the only one who could see you like this. he planning to be careful, gentle as per always but you're comments while obvious jokes spurred his competitive nature within him. he was going to prove you wrong, that his speed was rather agile in fact.

"I'll try to do my best, given how lackluster my speed seems to be." he mused as he began to thrust before you could reply.

sae set a brutal pace, thrusting without a shred of patience or care in the world. his hands came to your hips at each side, lifting them off the stiff mat and using you as a fleshlight. he leaned over you burrowing his nose into your neck as you cried out, your arms coming to wrap around him. those noises coming from his delicate doll, he thrived off it. you're little gasps and pleading moans only served to arouse him more.

he pounded into you relentlessly as you thrush against him, yelping as salty tears began to sprout from your eyes. you clung to him as he pushed your legs higher, angling you in a way that hit the deepest parts of your insides. the way you stretched around his length was so addicting, like he was melting in quicksand. it was almost like you were sucking him back in with every rhythmic pull away; only making him want to slam into you even harder with each thrust.

he knew it hurt, the tears soaking your face making that clear enough but you just looked so handsome like this for him. the noises you were making as be fucked into you, the way your body trembling when he tried placing soft kisses onto your collarbones, hell, even just the way your expression morphed from one of triumph to an erotic, moaning mess.

sae, still ruthlessly thrusting into you, brought his arms to cradle you. holding you close as he leaned into you and kissed your cheeks, not daring to silence the beautiful moans you were sobbing out, whispering softly into your ear, "be good for me baby, hm? take this just for a little while longer, i know you can do it." the greed underlying his tone

he leant back smiling down at you as he observed the sobbing lover that you've been reduced to. years of sex with this man and yet he's always been so careful with you, never stopping once to put you in your place. always acting as if you would shatter at the slightest force.

at least until today.

you tried pleading with him, buttering him up through groans as you fought your eyes rolling to the back of your head. though despite the vast difference from what you're used to, you didnt hate this at all.

in fact, it felt amazing.

"ah-! i-i get it! ...ahn-! you're super- fast! agh-!" you chirped out, opening your eyes to see only the dangerous glint of a predator staring down at his prey.

not saying a word, sae only picked up the rhythm. hips crashing into eachother at unthinkable tempo, as you bit your lower lip. you could feel your climax hurriedly approaching as you're legs twitched in sae's grasp, there's no way he doesnt realise. not with that smug little snark tattooed across his face.

he bowed his head down once more, deciding to taste more of his dove. his tongue slotted into your mouth, swirling around with your own as he held you in a comforting way knowing fully well you were being toyed with by him.

with a drawled out moan a stream of semen shot from between your legs, shooting up your torso remaining just short of your chest. you heaved as sae emptied himself into your tight little hole just short of your own climax. your chest rose and fell, struggling to regain your breathe after such an intense shared experience with your partner only to realise he's not even looking at you.... but at his phone...?

too exhausted to sit up, you heave on the mat whilst your eyes tracked sae's movements. he stared down at the phone with his casual, unbotherer expression before flickering back to your spent form. he took a moment to properly take in the sight before revealing a blank screen.

"turns out we weren't timing my training." he said, eyes unmoving from you as he felt his arousal well up again. "it seems we'll need to go again so i can get my results, baby."

to which you just stared at him absolutely mortified.

[weathervanenews]

hii! can i request something angsty with tyler? there could also be an injury involved? just male it extra angsty! thank you

what you're left with \ Tyler Galpin x gn!reader

wordcount: 1.4k content/warnings: heavy angst, no comfort, twisted Tyler, mentions of injury to reader (crutch, needles) a\n notes: I think I took this in a slightly different direction to what you had in mind, so I hope you still like it. It's also combining @k-k-merlin's request for something angsty with reader visting Tyler in Willowhill | masterlist

The crutch dug into your armpit, the raw muscle protesting with every shift of weight as you waited for the final door to be unlocked.

They’d told you it was too soon. Too reckless. Maybe they were right. But the nightmares wouldn’t let you rest, and nothing – no medication, no soothing reassurances – could stop the burn that ran through every cell in your body. You needed this.

The scrape of the lock sounded louder than it should have. He didn’t look up when the heavy door groaned open, nor when the thud of your crutch echoed in the sterile vestibule. For a moment, you wondered if he was asleep on his feet, suspended in his restraints.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat near choking you, as the door sealed shut behind you with a whine.

“You look awful.”

His eyes snapped open instantly – still angled downward, shadowed under his lashes. His fists clenched, only slightly, but enough for you to notice in the dim light. For the first time, you were thankful for the metal support beneath your shoulder for propping you up. 

Slowly, painfully, his gaze raked up, crawling over you, taking you in bit by bit until his eyes found yours, cantered beneath his brows. His expression didn’t change, but the sudden, sharp rise of his chest betrayed him. He hadn’t expected you.

You took his lack of movement as permission, stepping finally out of the shadow to the thick, smudged glass. His chest only rose again, jaw tight, as he pulled in unsure breaths. For a moment, he resembled little more than an injured stray, unable to register anything but his own fear. 

He made no effort to move, nor speak. Neither did you. 

For the second time, his eyes drifted down, taking in the crutch beneath your arm, the bandages poking out from beneath loose sweatpants, the bruises from IV lines littering your arm and hand. 

It took all your strength to avoid flinching at the metallic clunking of the chains that bound him as he broke the suffocating silence, punctuated only by the small huff of effort it took for him to lower his arms, taking unsure, unsteady steps to close the gap. 

You had never felt so much like prey. 

“I did this?” His voice was raspy, yet sterile. Head tilting as if assessing you. The warmth you had known so well stripped away. 

Your tongue darted out to anxiously wet your lips. “The Hyde did.” It came out quieter than you meant for it to, quivering slightly as his lips twitched. They didn’t hold, but the ghost of the smirk was there, like some subliminal feed designed to mess with you. You shuffled your weight awkwardly. 

“You still don’t blame me, do you?” 

“It was Gates.” You said simply, the words so well repeated that they were second nature.

The huff of a laugh startled you, the first real show of emotion giving you the only glimpse of your Tyler since that night. 

“Did Fairburn tell you to say that?” His eyes left yours only briefly, glancing up to one of the many cameras you knew they were watching from. You weren’t dumb. You were only let in here to experiment with him further. Push him to another limit. 

“Do you think so little of me?” you frowned, mouth downturned as he glanced back at you, fixated on your still-chapped lips. He sucked in a ragged breath, but offered you nothing more. 

“You left me alive,” you murmured, so quietly you weren’t even sure he could hear you. The slight tension that set into his bare shoulders the only sign he had. You tempted another step closer. “Why?” 

He didn’t move, his eyes flicking between yours. “I don’t know.” 

“Don’t lie.” You weren’t sure where the anger boiled up from, something in you finally snapping as you spat your words, still barely raising your voice. 

His chest heaved now, dragging in breaths as if he had been running, nostrils flaring with the effort. He stepped closer still, so close that if either of you took another step you’d be pressed against the glass you were sure wouldn’t stop him if he really wanted out. 

“I should have,” it was practically a growl. 

You pulled your cheek between your molars, biting down so as to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. Not because his words hurt, you had been told to expect nothing but cruelty, but because a part of you wished he had gone through with it. Spare you from the hell of the last three months. 

“But you have a funny way about getting under people’s skin.” He stepped back slightly, well, it was more of a stagger, as if the words had stung him. 

Your laugh surprised you, but completely confused him. His brow furrowed as you sank into the support of your crutch further. “That’s it?” you scoffed, god you had hoped for something far less cliché. “You let me live because you cared about me?” 

“Cared?” Finally, his facade cracked, the skin finally twisting into something akin to real emotion. Real anger. “You’d reduce it down to care? As if I wasn’t the only one who loved you.” His words slammed into you, knocking the breath from your chest. For a moment, you were utterly speechless. “Now tell me, why are you here, if not just one of her experiments?” his eyes flicked back to the cameras, lingering this time as he waited for your answer. 

Your chest tightened, the crutch digging in painfully again. “Because I needed answers.”

“Answers?” His laugh was low, harsh, as he snapped his attention back to you, the vein in his neck popping. “No. You came because you couldn’t let go. Because some part of you wanted to see me again.”

“That’s not true,” you snapped, the words ringing too sharp, too fast.

He stilled. His gaze burned into you, patient in its cruelty, like he could peel back each layer until the truth was bare. “Say it again,” he murmured. “Say it without shaking.”

The silence pressed down on you, so thick you could hardly breathe. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

His lips curved. “That’s what I thought.”

For a second, you considered turning. Your weight shifted back a little as you raised your crutch, head turning just a little back towards the door. 

“You think I wanted this?” he called, halting your movements entirely. “You think I wanted you—” His voice broke, his chains rattling with the tremor in his hands. “I never wanted you anywhere near this.”

You turned back more quickly than you should have, stepping so close your breath nearly fogged the glass. “Then why?” you demanded, your voice rising despite yourself. 

“Because you were the only good thing I had.” 

For a beat, you couldn’t breathe. His eyes – usually hard, unreadable – glimmered with something fragile. Regret? Pain? Or was it just another performance, another way to keep you tethered?

You searched his face for the monster you knew, the one who had torn you apart, but in its place was the boy who used to smile at you across steaming cups of coffee, who carried your books just because he could. The boy you had loved. Still did.

Your heart ached at the sight of it, a dangerous pull dragging you closer. Against every warning in your mind, against the sting of your scars, you let yourself soften, just for a breath.

“Tyler…” you whispered, your palm lifting as if it might rest against the glass, reaching toward him despite the barrier, despite everything. His chest stuttered with the smallest inhale, his shoulders dropping, but his hands remaining by his sides. 

For a moment, it almost felt like the glass wasn’t there. The silence that followed was unbearable, stretching taut until the heavy lock of the door disengaged behind you. A guard’s voice broke the spell: “Time.”

Neither of you moved. You stared at him through the glass, your breath shuddering, his eyes hollow and wet.

At last, you turned toward the door, every step heavier than the last. But just before the guard pulled you out, his voice cracked through the space one last time.

“I see it now.” His chest rose sharply. “Killing you. It would’ve been kinder than what I left you with.”

[serotoninandespresso]

Uncontrolled Variable

A/n: You just graduated, as Dr. (Y/n) Itadori, with a guaranteed position working under Dr. Satoru Gojo, a prodigy in your field.

Warnings: Modern no cursesAU, A/B/O dynamics (male reader is an omega, Satoru Gojo is an alpha), Smut (bottom male reader x top Satoru Gojo)(MDNI), Angst/Comfort

P.S: Shout out and thank you to @honeywinner06 for this request! i had so much fun writing it, I hope you like it! 🫶🏽

P.S.S: I swear when i first opened my requests i thought id bang these out much quicker...life comes at you fast 😭 Credits: banners/dividers are made by @/cafekitsune

Your eyes flutter open. You yawn, stretching as you sit up.  Your eyes find the large bay windows first.  The sky is a white fluffy blanket, frost barely clings to the glass.  You smile softly, getting out of bed and getting ready for the day.  You pour coffee grounds and water into the steeper. The smell of fresh coffee blooms across the kitchen, as you whisk eggs together with chopped vegetables and meat. “I see you’re in a happy mood.” A voice rumbles as you pour the mixture into a pan.  “Morning Sukuna!” You chirp.  “Mornin’ brat.” He grumbles sitting down at the table.  “Why’re you so happy?” He asks, resting his head against his hand.  “First day on the job.” You say excitedly.  “I’m working with the illustrious, the genius, Satoru Gojo.” You giggle.  Sukuna scoffs.  “You’re so easily impressed.” He grumbles.  “I’m your brother. Aren’t I more illustrious? He’s not even all that. He couldn’t ever take my number 1 spot.” He murmurs.  “He came close a few times.” You roll your eyes with a smile.  “Close is never enough.” He smirks.  “Yeah, yeah.” You snort, grabbing three cups, filling them with coffee and placing them at the table.  “Breakfast’s not quite done yet, go wake up Yuji, it’s his first day too.” You say.  Sukuna sighs loudly, his seat scrapes.  While you cook the omelettes you hear his heavy footsteps heading to Yuji’s room.  You hear a door creak open, his footsteps coming to another stop. “Ow!” Yuji screams.  You sigh, pinching the brow of your nose. “You’re a dick!” Yuji shouts as Sukuna comes back to the table.  He leans down, arms crossing as he hides his face in the crevice.  “I said to wake him up.” You sternly say, though your smile betrays any bite.  “And I did. Just gave him a whack on the ole noggin’.” Sukuna’s laugh comes out muffled. Yuji comes out, still rubbing his head.  “(Y/n).” He greets. “You’re up early.” He murmurs.  “Yeah.” You wipe your hands down, smoothing over Yuji’s hair. You coo as Yuji hisses when your fingers brush over that tender spot.  “We’ve all got work.” You remind him.  “Next time I’ll wake you up though, and Sukuna can make breakfast.” You say softly.  Sukuna’s head shoots up.  Yuji starts shaking his head as hard as he can. “No—god please.” Yuji’s hands clasp together. “He can’t make anything edible.” Yuji says loudly.  Sukuna scoffs, the vein in his forehead becoming more prominent.  Yuji leans in closer, his voice quiet enough you strain to listen. “He burns water. Everything he cooks is charred and somehow raw in the middle.” “Okay.” You laugh. “Then wake up on time or set more alarms.” You pinch his cheek.  “I know.” He murmurs rubbing his cheek.  You plate the omelets, handing one each to your older brothers.  “Eat up.” You smile as you take a piece into your mouth.  Yuji and Sukuna croon, groaning in delight. 

“You’ve always made the best breakfasts.” Yuji compliments you, his plate already clean. “Aww thanks.” You rub your cheek against his, scenting him.  “Oi.” Sukuna sucks his teeth.  “God.” You jokingly groan.  You stand on your tippy toes, scenting Sukuna too. “God, for twins you two are like night and fuckin’ day.” You shake your head. Yuji stares at you with wide eyes.  Sukuna’s lips curl into a cheshire smile.  “(Y/n).” Yuji says sternly.  “Oh come on.” You groan.  “Nope. I thought we taught you better than that.” Yuji crosses his arms.  “Yuji.” Your exasperation evident.  “I’m not an elementary student!” You laugh.  “I’m a grown man!” You whine. “And a doctor!”  “So are we, brat. Or at least I am.” Sukuna drawls, flashing a smirk at Yuji. “But I like the energy.”  “Sukuna.” Yuji looks over. “Don’t encourage this behavior”  Sukuna flips Yuji off, sticking his tongue out to punctuate the disrespect.  He gasps, scandalized.  “Alright, well I’m good to go.” You say, pulling your bag over your shoulder.  “We all go in at the same time right?” You remind.  “Shit.” Yuji mutters.  You tilt your head eyes widening.  “I—“ Yuji laughs.  “I don’t wanna hear anything else about my cursing Yuji.” You head towards the front door.  “I’m waiting 15 minutes.” The door swings open. “If you guys aren’t outside by then, I’m leaving.” You shut the door. You sit down in the passenger seat, connecting your phone and starting your playlist. Before you even realize, in less than 15 minutes Sukuna hops in the driver seat, and Yuji gets in the backseat.  “Ready?” Sukuna puts his shades on, reclining the seat.  “Yup.” You chirp, still texting away.  “Don’t smoke, by the by.” You add, looking over to Sukuna.  “Tch.” Sukuna flicks the unlit cigarette out the window. “Fine.”  The engine roars to life. Sukuna pulls out of the driveway like he’s an F1 driver. The tires squeal as he starts driving down the road, heading to the hospital.

“God.” A shiver runs down your spine.  Every breath you draw condenses into fog the moment you exhale.  “Hurry up.” You demand, walking faster towards the main entrance. “Why the fuck did you have to speed, Sukuna?” You snarl.  He grunts, hands in his pocket.  “We could’ve parked closer if you hadn’t gotten pulled over.” You groan.  “Yeah, Sukuna.” Yuji chimes in.  “Shut it, brat.” He growls at Yuji. “Besides, s’not like we’re late.” He shrugs.  Your head jerks towards Sukuna.  He tenses, before forcing himself to relax. “Won’t happen again.” He murmurs.  “Yeah.” You sigh in relief as you walk through the sliding doors.  You immediately bask in the warm ambiance of the hospital.  “This way.” Yuji says leading you towards HR.  “Good morning ‘Gumi.” Yuji says brightly.  “Good morning, Yuji.” Megumi answers softly. “You’re not on duty today?” He asks looking his alpha up and down.  “No, I am. Figured we’d get lunch first, before I go to the firehouse.” Yuji blows a kiss towards Megumi.  “Hi Megumi.” You chirp.  His eyes widen. “Hi (Y/n), first day already?”  “You know it.” You smirk.  “I’m also dropping my lil’ brother off, make sure he has a good first day, y’know all that.” Yuji chuckles.  “I’m one of the new clinical research residents under Dr. Satoru Gojo.” You say smugly.  You don’t notice the way the air thins, or how strained Megumi’s smile turns.  “Ah…right.” He laughs nervously. “That’ll be a…a learning experience for sure.”  “Here’s your badge, rotation schedule, locker combo for your personal stuff.” Megumi goes through his first day list.  “And Sukuna you’re already expected in pathology, don’t keep them waiting. Your ‘help’ is sick, so she’s not here today.” Megumi states.  “Thanks, Fushiguro.” Sukuna says. “Knock Satoru dead kid.”  He pats you on the back. “I’ll get you for lunch.”  “Sounds good.” You wave him off.  “I’ll take you to the research lab.” Megumi says standing up.  “And Yuji, my second favorite of the family—“ “Who’s the first?” He asks, nearly tearing up already.  “(Y/n).” Megumi deadpans.  “Ah. Right.” Yuji hangs his head with a snort.  “Just wait for me here. I’ll be back and we can get some coffee.” Megumi kisses Yuji on the cheek, before holding the door open for you.  “See ‘ya, Yuji.” You wave him off following Megumi through the electronically locked double doors. 

You look around, bright eyed, taking in the shine of the linoleum floors. The smell of isopropyl in the air.  Every squeak your shoes make against the floor.  “So what’s he like?” Your voice carries all the excitement you have.  “Who?” Megumi asks.  “Satoru Gojo.” You chirp.  Megumi stiffens.  You tilt your head at him, the air in the room suddenly thicker, heavier.  “He’s…..” Megumi grits his teeth. “Satoru Gojo.”  “The fuck does that mean?” You snort.  “It means you should form your own opinion when you meet him.” He retorts.  “Jeez.” You whisper, hands behind your back.  “Sorry.” Megumi murmurs.  “A little testy today. Kinda on edge.” He adds. 

“You and Yuji have another pregnancy scare?” You jest.  The hair on Megumi’s neck stands on end.  A chill runs down his spine, sweat beads at his forehead.  “No.” Your shock evident.  Megumi’s hand flies to the back of his neck as he tries to come up with something.  “Oh my god you better take that test.” You elbow him gently.  “I know.” Megumi whispers, hand over his abdomen. “I’m probably not. I don’t know. My heat is late, and I’ve been stressed.” He rambles.  “But enough about me, here’s the research lab.” He does jazz hands as he shows off the entrance.  “This is where you’ll be working for most of the time. Obviously sometimes you’ll be in the ER, or shadowing, but this is it.” He smiles.  “Have fun.” He pats you on the back and walks back towards his own work zone. “Try not to kill Satoru either.”  Megumi adds.  “Thanks…?” You shake your head as you walk through the doors.  You freeze hearing voices. “But Nanamiiiiii~,” A whiny voice pleads, “we made such a good team together.”  “No, Satoru.” A baritone voice answers.  Your feet finally move again, taking you deeper into the lab. “But—” Satoru pouts.  “If this is all you called me for, then our conversation is over.” Nanami crosses his arms.  He turns around stiffening slightly as you both make eye contact.  He gives you a terse nod, before walking past you.  You can smell it instantly.  Steel and ink clashing against sandalwood and birch.  They’re both alphas. You look over to the white haired male, his piercing blue eyes either staring daggers into you or the back of Nanami’s head.  “Hi, I’m—“ “Shut it.” He curtly says.  You don’t react, but you didn’t expect this was how he’d be.  You didn’t expect this would be how he’d act. “God story of my life.” Satoru runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck me…and I thought he was different too.”  You don’t move, shifting your weight between your feet.  Satoru looks back over to you, still visibly annoyed.  “What? Cat got your tongue?” He asks mockingly.  “You said to ‘shut it’.” You answer crossing your arms.  Satoru rolls his eyes, before walking over.  He starts to circle you looking you up and down.  You clear your throat, feeling it tighten.  You try to look ahead, past him, as heat crawls up your veins.  It stops dead in its tracks when you look at his eyes.  Those ice cold blue hues aren’t the crush struck ones you assumed he was ogling you with.  They’re analytical.  Like he’s deciding your worth.  Like he’s weighing your value against something.  “So, how’d you end up here in my lab?” He finally speaks.  “I’m the new clinical research resident.” You answer.  “(Y/n) Itadori.”  Satoru hums softly.  “Megumi mentioned something about a new hire.” He rolls his eyes.  “I told him I didn’t need one.” He crosses his arms. “Thought he’d take that into consideration before posting a job opening.” He gives you one last look, up and down, quick dismissive.  He exhales sharply. “But you’re already here, and the paperwork to fire you would be more of a headache. So I guess I’ll just put you to work.”  He walks over to the other side of the lab.  He rests against a pristine desk. “This is where you’ll sit.” He points over to the other end of the lab. “That’s my desk.”  “Put what you’d like, yadda yadda, nothing inappropriate.” He rambles.  “I’m the PI—primary investigator—so you’ll be reporting to me.” He adds.  “Any questions?” He looks expectantly.  “No sir.” You answer.  He quirks his head surprised at that.  “Alright then. If you need anything, look for it yourself. If you still can’t find it come get me, then I’ll find it, and help you find another job.” He mumbles walking back to his desk.  “God he’s such a fucking dick.” You seethe to yourself. 

You take a slow breath, making sure you don’t annoy Satoru further. You shake your head as you sit down.  You open your desk drawers, getting a feel for how much organizational space you have.  You get up, putting a pair of latex gloves on, before walking around the lab and opening every drawer, every bin, every door.  Satoru looks over his laptop.  Once. Twice. He sucks his teeth.  “What are you doing?” He scowls.  You ignore him, continuing what you’re doing.  You make a mental note of where all the essentials are.  Pipettes in the drawer closest to you.  Reagents under the isolation hood.  Extra pipette bulbs in the closet. “Hey.” He says louder.  “What?” You finally answer.  “What are you doing?” He asks again.  “Get familiarized with the lab.” You say professionally. Satoru hums, going back to his work, but his eyes keep flicking towards you.  “Okay. I think I have a handle on everything.” You whisper to yourself.  “Come’ere (Y/n).” Satoru beckons. You take a quiet breath, eyes shutting as you find your calm.  You open your eyes slowly, walking towards him.  “Yes Satoru?” You ask.  “Here.” He throws bunched-up cloth at you.  You catch it, but before you can snap at him, you unfurl it.  “You’re gonna need a white coat here.” He says fingers still typing away.  “Also I don’t expect to be called Dr. Gojo, so don’t expect me to call you Dr. Itadori. We’re as equal as can be, despite the glaring difference.” He says bored.  You put on the lab coat. You straighten it out.  There’s some warmth to his words and actions.  You catch yourself about to smile, before reminding yourself he’s already shown you who he is.  “Thank you, Satoru.” You say politely.  He doesn’t answer.  “Today you’ll just be shadowing me. The other research assistants will come in shortly. Don’t let any of them order you around, you report to me so you’re above them.” He continues.  You couldn’t tell if it was a warning.  Were you about to be hazed? First day on the job?  It might’ve even been consideration, maybe even bordering on respect. You bury those thoughts immediately.  You know who Dr. Satoru Gojo is.  “Tomorrow, you’ll do some work on your own, and if I like the quality, you’ll start on bench the day after.” He concludes.  You nod. “Do we see patients?”  His eyes flick towards you.  “Not all the time.” He answers as if it were obvious.  “If they’re backed up in the ER, yes. But most if not all of the patients we see, come in for experimental treatment.” He answers. “Okay. Thank you, Satoru.” You respond.  His eyebrows twitch.  It was blink and you’ll miss it.  “Don’t worry ‘bout it, (Y/n).” He says with the same ice from earlier.  You give him a polite smile, before heading back to your seat.  You set your computer up, making sure you have all the access you need.  You call IT and HR as needed to move things along quicker.  You feel your pager buzz.  “Ah.” You stand up, taking off your lab coat.  “I have orientation.” You say as you walk to the door.  “Not like that you don’t.” He says as you’re already halfway out the door.  You roll your eyes, but head back in. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”  “Your white coat. Put it back on. You’re a doctor, and you’re under me. Let them know your dick is bigger than theirs.” He says with a laugh. You laugh from the shock. “Right…will do.” You manage to get out, putting your lab coat on and heading to the conference room.  

“My name is Mei Mei, I’ll be the one conducting orientation.” Her voice seemed to lick at you. A chill up your spine you couldn’t explain.  Despite that earlier unease, now you’re nearly falling asleep.  Eyelids feeling heavier by the second as she drones on about harassment in the work place.  What’s appropriate and what isn’t.  Conduct between superiors and subordinates.  Interactions between alphas and omegas.  Standard stuff really.  “Looking at all of you, I’m sure you’ll do well.” Mei Mei says with a lilt.  Her eyes land on you, fixated on the white coat.  “You, however…” Her laugh trails off.  She grabs her things. “Tokyo General welcomes you all.” She smiles. “We’re providing lunch in the cafeteria, please feel free to join us.”  As you stand to leave with the group a hand lands on your shoulder. “I’m treating him and showing him around during lunch.” Satoru’s voice cuts through the air.  You want to shrug his hand off. But you don’t. The weight of it… The heat of it… As it sits on your shoulder… Feels right.  You grimace internally.  You can’t tell what you’re feeling.  Whether it’s professional. Or something deeper.  Mei Mei hums, her dark brown eyes piercing and analyzing Satoru.  “Of course you are.” She snickers.  “Have fun, (Y/n).” She waves you both off.  Satoru sucks his teeth.  The moment you turn around his hand falls from your shoulder.  Satoru grunts tilting his head back towards the door.  He stuffs his hands in his pockets, walking ahead of you.  You blink a few times before finally catching up with him.  The silence isn’t unbearable. It isn’t calm either.  “So.” Your voice comes out unsure.  “You and Mei Mei?”  Satoru’s head whips around, eyes wide, scandalized. “Pbht.” He chokes on a laugh.  “God no. All she cares about is money.” He shakes his head.  “I’m seeing someone.” He states.  You hum.  “Even if they don’t wanna see me right now…” He says under his breath. “How does sushi sound?” Satoru gets out before you can ask him what he said.  “Good. I’m not a picky eater.” You say, tailing behind him.  “Good.” He says holding the door open for you. 

Lunch is… Odd. Not quite the right word for it.  “So—“ Satoru’s throat works.  “Which research journal of mine sparked your interest the most?” He asks in between chews.  “Oh uhm I’ve read a good majority of it.” You answer honestly.  “But, gun to my head? I think my favorite piece is your ongoing one.” You wipe your mouth with a napkin.  “The immunotherapy using a patient’s own cytokines to target cancer cells.” Your eyes shine as you speak. Satoru gives you a half smirk in response. “Yeah. That one’s some of my best work.”  You hum in agreement.  “Don’t bog my work down.” He says matter of factly.  “You’re bright. You have to be to get this far. To even be employed at this hospital.” Satoru waves his hand.  “Don’t think that you’ve reached the top just because you’re here and working under me.” He clarifies.  “If you aren’t giving this role a 110% of your efforts, there are tons of people who’d kill to be in your spot.” He puts his fork down, his plate spotless.  You give him a strained smile.  He doesn’t react.  “Right.” You say tersely. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”  “Good.” He says standing up.  “Let’s go then. Time to meet my other research assistants.” He adds already walking to the door. 

“(Y/n) this is Ijichi and Nobara.” Satoru introduces.  “Hi, it’s nice to meet you both.” You smile.  “A pleasure.” Ijichi says softly.  “Welcome to hell.” Nobara says.  Satoru sucks his teeth. “Be serious.” You laugh off her comment.  “I am being serious.” She snaps at him. “You seem to have a good head on your shoulder, and social graces, so please stick around, Satoru needs all the help he can get in that department.” She turns back to you.  “Especially with what happened between him and Nana—“ “Finish that sentence and you’ll be explaining to HR why you’re cleaning bedpans for the next few months.” Satoru says with a lilt, each word dripping with malice.  “Sheesh lighten up.” Nobara throws her hands up.  You look away, pretending to be uninterested, but you can’t help but wonder.  “What happened between Satoru and Nanami?” You muse.  A falling out between friends?  Rival acquaintances? Did Nanami snatch a surgery room from Satoru?   A patient?  “Hey! What’s this?” Nobara says heading to your desk. “My desk?” You say.  “Satoru.” She puts her hands on her hips. “You said this desk was as good as mine.”  “Things change.” He shrugs. “Besides our new hire needs it more. There’s nothing wrong with your current desk.”  “Sorry?” You nervously chuckle.  “You don’t need to apologize, tall, pale, and brooding does.” She murmurs.  “That’s enough for introductions.” Satoru claps. “Nobara, Ijichi, the two of you are responsible for his training. By tomorrow I should only need to fine tune him.” He puts his hands in his pockets.  “Of course Dr. Gojo.” Ijichi says.  “You’re gonna end up retraining him when you don’t like how we do it.” Nobara sighs. “But whatever.”  “Come’ere (Y/n).” She calls out. “Let’s go over the basics.” Nobara doesn’t spare a single detail. Going into depth over even the smallest inconsequential thing.  “So…” you start slowly.  “You wanna know about Gojo and Nanami?” She asks bluntly.  “Well— I mean— I’m not—“ you sigh softly. “I do.” She smirks, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “You’re gonna fit right in.”  “Satoru and Nanami, are— or were best friends.” Nobara starts.  “They’ve known each other since high school, and started dating at some point.” She shrugs.  “Even after they presented as alphas.” Nobara makes eye contact with you. “There’s nothin wrong with an alpha dating an alpha, but they’re incompatible.”  She crosses her arms. “They weren’t good for each other. Nanami is serious…and Satoru…isn’t.” “He hasn’t been processing the break up well, if at all really.” She says softly. “He’s still holding on to hope that they’ll get back together…but rumor is…Nanami is courting an omega in his department.”  Your eyes widen. “Oh…poor Satoru.”  Nobara snorts. “He’ll be fine. Satoru always lands on his feet.”  She whips her head around to meet your eyes. “And if he asks you didn’t hear it from me.”  You nod rapidly. “Yeah of course.”  You can’t help but feel an ache in your chest.  “No wonder he’s an asshole. He’s hurting.” You think to yourself.  “What’s Satoru’s likes and dislikes?” You probe.  Nobara looks at you, raising an eyebrow. “He’s pretty….childish.”  “He has a huge sweet tooth, and he likes Digimon.” She adds. “Despite how he acts, and treats others.”  You nod slowly. “Good to know.” She makes a face, a wry smile stretching her lips. “Yeah. I’m sure.” “Anyways.” She nods back towards the rest of the lab. “I gotta whip you into something malleable for Satoru tomorrow.”  You smile, nodding along as she goes through the rest of the ins and outs of the lab. By the time it’s five o’clock you grab your things and hang your lab coat. “Goin’ somewhere?” Satoru asks, walking up beside you. 

“Yeah, home.” You say as you zip up your jacket. 

Satoru raises an eyebrow. “Leaving before your boss isn’t a good look you know?”

You shrug. “I’m not trying to look good. I’m already competent, the bar isn’t much higher to clear.”

Satoru breathes heavier, something between a scoff and a laugh. “I’m the bar, remember?”

You start walking towards the exit. 

“I know. I said it with you in mind. Have a good evening Satoru.” You toss over your shoulder.

Satoru crosses his arms, a faint smile tugging at his lips.  He pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head softly.  He throws his jacket on, heading home too.  Satoru heads to his car, tossing his keys and catching them in his hand.  He stutters as he spots you getting into a car with his rival.  “The fuck’s he doing with Sukuna?” Satoru snarls.  He feels his skin crawl, his teeth grind against each other.  His eyes widen when he feels a shallow ache in his chest.  He clenches his fists, letting them fall to his side. “It’s nothing. Even if they’re fucking, he seems…professional enough to keep work and private separate.” Satoru gets into his car, burning holes into the back of Sukuna’s head as he drives off. 

“How was your first day brat?” Sukuna asks.  “Meh.” You shrug your shoulders, looking out the window.  “‘Meh’?” Sukuna parrots back confused. “What do you mean meh?”  You roll your eyes. “It’s nothing. Just first day blues I guess.” Sukuna turns to you fully at a red light.  He looks at you like you’re supposed to be a better liar. “That’s not a real thing.” “It…it can be.” You argue.  “Did Satoru say something?” Sukuna’s knuckles turn white around the steering wheel. “Do I need to remind him why he was never number 1 until he stopped competing with me?”  You turn to him. “No— no. That’s not necessary. He’s just…going through something so— I don’t know— maybe he’s just having an off day.”  Sukuna scoffs. “It better just be an off day, or I’ll go down to his department.”  “Sukuna I just started don’t ruin this for me— or you.” You giggle, getting out of the car.  You hear him groan loudly.  “Fine. But if he upsets you, I’ll know.” Sukuna snarls.  You laugh heading into your home.  You kick off your shoes and hang your jacket before stepping into the kitchen.  “I’m making curry and rice.” You call out, grabbing pans.  “Sounds good. Let me know if you need help.” Sukuna says. “Oh I do.” You say with a smirk before he can walk away. “Cut the veggies and meat for me?”   “You’re lucky you’re adorable.” Sukuna grumbles as he washes his hands and grabs a knife.  You wash the rice, throwing it into the rice cooker with water, oil, and salt.  The moment he’s done you start the rice cooker, before going to season the food. You time it down to the second, finishing up the meal as Yuji walks in.  He rubs his cheek against yours, before going to freshen up.  You plate three portions, setting them down at the kitchen table.  You all enjoy the meal, discussing your days.  Sukuna and Yuji hang on your every word, smiling wider and wider as you gush about it.  They don’t need to know you’re leaving out the parts with Satoru, completely.  By the time the sun sets you’ve showered and gotten into bed.  You toss and turn trying to figure out the right angle so Satoru is less…himself? Just less of an asshole, really. When your mind settles on something, your body relaxes, taking you deep into sleep. 

The next morning you got ready. No flair like the first day.  Just a begrudging awareness of yourself.  A fraught need to be presentable, to look desirable.  You scoff, shaking your head at the notion. “No one I’ve seen is my type or alluring.” It felt like a lie, but you’d deny it. To yourself, to anyone that might’ve heard your innermost thoughts.  You stopped by the same bakery, getting your favorite latte and pastry. Before you paid, your eyes were drawn to the pink balls of dough. Sakura mochi.  Something sweet. Something Satoru might enjoy. You roll your eyes, swiping the package and adding it to your order.  The moment you paid, got back in the car, ignoring the face Sukuna made as he spied the sweets. “Don’t make it weird.” You mutter.  Sukuna snorts. “I didn’t say anything.”  You look at him, giving him the once over. “You didn’t have to.” The rest of the drive is quiet, in a nice, calm way, a contrast you’re sure to the day you’re about to have.  You get in, hanging your jacket, and donning your white coat.  As you pass Satoru’s desk, you flagrantly toss the mochi onto his desk.  “Hold it.” He says, his keystrokes slowing to a stop.  You walk back, you don’t even look at him. “Yeah?”  “What’s this?” He asks.  You hear the package crinkle. “I got the wrong flavor. I don’t like Sakura.”  Satoru eyes the sweets, before a small smirk stretches across his lips. “Thanks.”  Satoru rips open the package, tossing one in his mouth. “It’s funny, Sakura mochi is my favorite.”  “No worries.” You respond, finally heading to your desk. 

Work continued on, the days turning to weeks, turning to months.  Each day passing with you tossing Sakura mochi onto Satoru’s desk.  It was a daily ritual you didn’t bother breaking.  A daily ritual you didn’t bother stopping.  You keep lying to yourself even as the greetings and goodbyes become warmer and warmer.  Even as Satoru spoke softer and softer to you.  Even as the conversations turned into a blend of professional and personal.  Even as you got better and better rotation assignments and your name included in research proposals. “Whew.” Nobara blew a puff of air, smacking the packet in front of her. “Ijichi and I suffered years under his thumb before he ever put out names on his work.” She mutters. “And you get it within the year?”   “Favoritism.” Ijichi nods solemnly.  You laughed nervously. “I wouldn’t call it that.”  “You guys!” Satoru singsonged as he barrels into the lab.  “Look!” He shouts excitedly, brandishing some documents.  Nobara sighs, snatching the paper from his hands. “Hand it over.”  “Hey!” Satoru bemoans.  Nobara’s eyes scan the page, widening with each word she passes over.  Her head shoots up, her eyes meeting Satoru’s.  “No fucking way.” She says with barely contained excitement. “Yes way!” Satoru squeals.  “Will one of you fill us in?” You ask crossing your arms.  “We got the research grant!” Nobara and Satoru say at the same time.  “Really?” Your arms drop in shock.  “Yes!” Satoru says.  “Oh my god!” You pull them all into a group hug. “This is going to be so good!”  You don’t notice Satoru stiffen.   Nor the blush on his face, or the way his breathing hitches.  “It is!” Satoru manages to get out. “We can take our research public. We can start human trials.”   “Exactly!” Satoru affirms. “And to celebrate, we’re all going out to dinner.” Satoru smiles wider, flashing his black card. “My treat.”  “Finally!” Nobara squeals. “God I can barely wait, Gojo knows the best restaurants.”  “Keep going, praise me a little more.” Satoru says softly.  Nobara stops abruptly. “Gross.”  You and Ijichi snicker.  “Don’t be a killjoy Nobara.” Satoru whines.  “Anyways, it’s close enough to the end of the work day.” Satoru says staring at his watch. “Let’s all head home now, get dressed and ready, and I’ll send the location later.” Satoru’s eyes shoot to yours, he forces them to Nobara’s and Ijichi’s. “Let’s do 7pm?”  “Sounds good.” You say already hanging your lab coat.  “Alright. I’ll see you later (Y/n).” Satoru calls out as he waves.  Nobara crosses her arms. “What about us?”  “What about you two?” Satoru smirks, sweat beading at his forehead.  Nobara sighs, hanging her head. “God you’re insufferable.”  “We’ll see you later Dr. Gojo.” Ijichi bows, hanging his white coat next to Nobara’s, as he leaves with her.  “Yeah…see you guys later.” Satoru says volume dropping.  Satoru grits his teeth. “I can’t. I have to dial back. Nanami might hear about this.”

“Sukuna should I get a taxi home?” You say kicking your feet as you sit at his desk.  “And why the fuck would you do that?” He responds examining samples under a microscope.  “Well, I’m done for the day.” You say nonchalantly. “And I need to get ready.” Sukuna’s head comes up.  He looks to you with a blank stare. “Get ready for what?” You blow on your knuckles, before wiping them on your shirt. “Well if you must know, our research grant got approved, so Satoru’s taking us out to dinner.” Sukuna’s lips twitch, half smile half snarl. Half excitement for your research.  Half barely contained fury at the thought of you going to dinner with Satoru.  “And it’s a team thing?” Sukuna fishes.  “Duh.” You scoff. “S’not like Satoru would ask me on date.”  Sukuna raises an eyebrow.  “A-and it’s not like I’d say yes!” You blurt.  Sukuna rolls his eyes. “Alright then.”  “Let me finish these two samples, and we’ll head home.” He mutters, jaw tightening. “You’re so easy to read (Y/n).” Sukuna thinks to himself. 

The car ride home is quiet.  You sprint out of the car and into your home, nearly colliding with Yuji, and hopping into the shower.  “Woah where’s the fire?” Yuji yawns.  “Gotta get ready!” You shout behind the bathroom door.  Yuji looks towards Sukuna.  “He’s got a date.” Sukuna teases. Yuji’s eyes widen, now fully awake. “What?” “N-no I don’t!” You correct. “It’s just a team dinner to celebrate our research grant approval.”  Yuji smirks, same as Sukuna. “Right. Of course.”  “Don’t!” You shout as you strip down and start the shower.  “160,000¥ says (Y/n) and Satoru end up dating.” Yuji whispers.  Sukuna scoffs, his scent sharpening, before he reins it in. “250,000¥ says I have to kill Satoru before the night ends.”  “Deal.” Yuji snorts shaking Sukuna’s hand.  You come out of the shower, heading to your room.  You rummage through your closet, grabbing different shirts, pants, sweaters, etc.  Anything you’re not wearing you let fall to the floor.  You struggle before ending on a nice pair of slacks, a white turtle neck, and black Chelsea boots.  You stare at yourself in the mirror, smiling as your pants hug every curve.  You sigh softly, trying to calm yourself.  You head down the stairs, already bracing for whatever Sukuna is going to say. “Absolutely not.” His voice projects, scent sharpening, almost demanding submission.  Sukuna comes out of the kitchen. “Go change.”  You scoff, crossing your arms. “No. I’m comfortable, I’m wearing this.” “(Y/n).” Sukuna nearly snarls.  “Sukuna let him wear what he wants.” Yuji says putting an arm around him. “He looks adorable.” “Thank you Yuji—“ “Like he’s on a date.” Yuji adds, giving you a shit-eating grin.  “Oh fuck off.” You say shaking your head. You look down to your watch. “Alright I’m gonna head out, don’t bother waiting up for me.” “Knock’em dead (Y/n)!” Yuji calls out.  “I’ll kill Satoru if he hurts you!” Sukuna adds.  You groan loudly, letting the door slam shut as you go to your car.  You look at yourself in the rearview mirror, taking a breath as the engine roars to life.  You squeeze the wheel, throat working, before backing up, and heading to the address Satoru provided. 

The restaurant is high-class.  It’s got more Michelin stars than any place you’ve ever been to.  You walk over to the hostess. “Hi I’m meeting my work colleagues.”  The hostess brightens up. “For Gojo right? Please follow me.”  She takes you to a private section in the back. She holds the door open as you walk through.  “(Y/n)~” Satoru purrs. “You made it!”  You give a small laugh. “Of course I did.” You look to Nobara and Ijichi.  “Don’t look at me.” Ijichi says nursing his drink.  Nobara laughs. “I convinced Gojo to do a few shots with me.”  “He really can’t hold his liquor.” She nearly doubles over laugh.  “Seems like you can’t either.” You snicker.  Nobara stands up, swaying just a tad. “What was that?” “Nothing Nobara.” You take the only open seat.  Coincidentally, right by Satoru.  “Let’s eat!” Satoru giddily says.  He orders platters of food.  Wide varieties of proteins.  Beef, chicken, fish.  Different pasta dishes, sushi, sashimi, if it’s on the menu, it made it to the table before you.  The drinks kept flowing, making everyone a little looser.  By the time the night came to a close you were beyond full. You were convinced everyone ate their weight in food.  Satoru was nearly half asleep, slumped forward, giggling to himself.  Ijichi keeps pressing a napkin to his forehead. Nobara seems to have sobered up, if just a touch, though with how she’s drinking, you could be wrong.  You kept pace.  Never drinking more than Ijichi, but you still had a good buzz going.  Nobara stood abruptly. “Well…Ijichi and I are gonna get going.”  She puts on her coat, with Ijichi following suit.  “Yes, thank you Dr. Gojo, I look forward to tomorrow’s research development.” Ijichi bows. “Uhm where are you guys going?” You laugh. “Satoru is gonna need some help getting home.”  Nobara snorts. “And thank god you’re here.” She flicks your forehead. “You’re his favorite, so it comes with the territory.”  “Yes (Y/n), make sure Satoru gets home safely.” Ijichi adds.  “Uh—?” You laugh.  You shake your head. “Alright then. Goodnight Nobara, Ijichi. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”  They wave as they leave.  “Boooo…” Satoru slurs as the door shuts.  “What you wanna keep the fun going?” You ask taking note of Satoru’s unfocused eyes.  You see his gaze drift around the room. The moment they land on you, they seem to constrict and then dilate, like he’s found something worth focusing on.  “I do~” Satoru smiles drunkenly.  “It’s probably not a good idea.” You pat Satoru’s back. “We’ve got work tomorrow.”  Satoru whines. “You’re just like….” He takes a breath, you don’t hear the rest of his comparison.  “He’s just like Nanami…another stick in the mud…” Satoru thinks to himself. “Someone else who’s gonna get overwhelmed or bored with me and leave.”  You feel Satoru’s energy shift. “You okay?”  Satoru lifts his head up, his eyes meeting yours.  There’s something growing in his iris, something like clarity.  “Y’know…even at rock bottom.” Satoru sits up. “I’d never date someone like you.”  You freeze.  A breathy laugh leaves your lips.  You swallow down the bile in your throat. You try to smother the ache in your chest.  You weren’t supposed to care. You don’t care.  You know he’s an asshole.  He’s Satoru Gojo for God’s sake. And yet, you’ve never felt more undesirable. Suddenly aware of how your clothes fit.  Of how you walk, of how you talk.  “Good to know.” You manage to say. “The feelings…uh— the feelings mutual.”  Satoru’s eyes widen. “(Y/n)—“ “Come on. Let’s get to the hostess stand, so you can pay for the food.” You stand up abruptly, offering Satoru a shoulder in the same fashion you’d offer a stranger a hand.  “N-no need…I paid in advance.” Satoru slurs.  “Okay. I’ll drive you home then.” You say guiding Satoru out of the restaurant and into your car.

“(Y/n)—“ Satoru tries again as you buckle him into his seat. 

“Just close your eyes Satoru. You’ll be home soon.” You cut him off.

You shut his door, gently despite the tremor in your hand. 

You walk over to your side of the car. 

Your lips warble, your eyes burn.

You squeeze your eyes shut, fingers going to the corners of your eyes. “I’m worse than rock bottom, huh?” You say softly.  You get in, turning your car on and putting Satoru’s address in.  The entire car ride is silent.  Satoru makes no effort to talk, and you reciprocate.  You help him up to his penthouse suite.  You make sure he’s in his bed. You place a water bottle on the nightstand closest to him.  “Goodnight Dr. Gojo.” You tersely say, leaving him alone in his room.  You don’t see how he sits up.  How his hand reaches for you, before falling to the bed.  How he struggles to find the words he needs.  You take a shuddering breath once you’re in your car.  Your forehead hits the cold leather of your steering wheel.  You swipe at your eyes feeling those salty tracks go down your cheeks.  You drive home in continued silence. “Thank god…Yuji has his night shift…Sukuna is asleep….” You think as you sneak up to your room.  You peel your clothes off like they’ve personally offended you, tossing them into a pile in the corner of your room.  You slip into your bed biting your lip to muffle the soft sobs that keep tumbling out. 

The next day you skipped your morning coffee.  You still held the Sakura mochi for a second before dumping it back in the case.  The moment you enter the lab you feel Satoru’s eyes on you.  “Hi (Y/n).” Satoru sheepishly says.  “Good morning Dr. Gojo.” You greet with zero warmth.  Satoru flinches. He physically recoils as if you’ve slapped him.  “(Y/n)…about last night—“ “No need.” You cut him off. “It’s fine.” You hang your jacket, putting on your white coat. “I-it’s not fine.” Satoru whispers.  You act like you don’t hear him, taking a seat at your desk and focusing on your workload to get through the day.  You ignore the feeling of Satoru’s eyes on you.  “He meant what he said.” You remind yourself. “Drunk words are sober thoughts.” You make one too many errors typing your password in.  You almost slam the keyboard. You take a breath, before clenching your hands into shaking fists.  “Dude are you okay?” Nobara whispers.  You close your eyes, taking a breath. “Yeah. I’m okay.”  She looks you over, sitting down across from you. “Bullshit. What happened?”  You scoff. “Nothing. Now if you don’t mind some of us have work to get back to.”  Nobara puts a hand over her chest. “Ouch, what did I do?”  You soften her a fraction, taking a breath. “I’m fine, Nobara. Let’s just get to work.”  Nobara stands up putting a hand on your shoulder. “I’m here if you need to vent. I know Gojo can be a handful when he’s drunk.”  You grit your teeth. “Yeah. Of course. Thanks.”  She gives you a small smile, before heading to her desk.  The work day feels like it drags on and on.  Finally, as if responding to your prayer, when you look down to your watch, it’s lunch time.  You get ready to head out, hanging your coat. Satoru clears his throat, hanging his jacket too. “What are you feeling today?” Satoru asks. “Curry? Ramen? Sushi?” You don’t look at him. “Not sure yet. I’ll figure it out when I get down there.” Satoru’s scent wavers. “We— we usually do lunch together.”  The silence is crushing.  Almost as if you’re recalibrating, and closing rank against him.  Satoru feels like a child again.  The child prodigy everyone loved when it benefitted them. The child prodigy no one could stand when his genius worked against them. “I think it’s inappropriate for us to have lunch together, Dr. Gojo.” You say sternly.  “If you’d like to go now, I can wait.” You add.  Satoru’s face almost cracks, his lip trembles. “No…it’s…it’s okay. You can go now. I’ll go later.” You give him a single nod, before leaving.  Satoru sits down, raking his hand through his hair. “Why the fuck did I say that?”  Satoru leans back in his seat. “It wasn’t even true…”  Satoru growls, standing up, he yanks off his lab coat and slams it against his desk.  He stuffs his hands into his pockets, before heading down to the cafeteria.  “Maybe I should just sit down next to him…” Satoru murmurs.  As he enters the cafeteria, his eyes fall on you.  In an instant he knows you’re sitting across from Sukuna.  He sees Sukuna lean over, napkin in hand wiping food from the corner of your mouth.  Satoru feels himself bristling, a growl starting in the base of his throat. Before he can stalk over, he drags a hand down his face.  He turns around before his scent forces every omega and beta into submission.  “I have to do something. I have to fix this.” He mutters as he heads to the psychology wing. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?” Suguru drawls. Satoru sighs softly. “I…may have fucked up.”  Suguru raises an eyebrow. “You? Never.”  Satoru gives Suguru a less than impressed look.  “Define fucked up.” Suguru prompts.  Satoru winces. “I got a new hire. He’s been working really hard, he’s a great addition to my team…he was a little distracting…” Suguru snorts. “Distracting?”  “Maybe that’s not the right word.” Satoru admits. “He…he challenged me. He didn’t suck up to me like others would have. He was irreverent, without being disrespectful.” Suguru nods. “Wonderful. Let’s get to the part where you fucked up.” Satoru grits his teeth, his throat bobs. “I may have said something unintentionally cruel.”  “What did you say?” Suguru presses.  “Does it matter?” Satoru snaps. Suguru laughs. “Man you’re down bad.”  Satoru scoffs, blush dusting across his face.  “Yes it matters. Now get on with it before my next patient arrives.” Suguru goads.  “I may have said something like….” Satoru squeezes his eyes shut. “Even at rock bottom I’d never date you.”  Suguru’s eyes widen, he whistles like he’s watching a train wreck. “And, just for clarity, you think you may have fucked up?” Suguru asks.  “Well— I— I don’t know!” Satoru snaps. “People like (Y/n) don’t usually care about what I have to say.” Suguru scoffs. “And what kind of person is (Y/n)?”  Satoru sits back. “He’s the kind of person that…that brings— brought me mochi in the morning. The kind of person who made me want to aim higher again. The kind of person I looked forward to going to lunch with.”  Suguru softens. “How has he been since then?”  Satoru laughs wetly. “He doesn’t call me Satoru anymore. He thinks it’s inappropriate now for us to go to lunch together…he didn’t even let me apologize for what I said.”  Suguru leans in. “Do you think you deserve to be able to apologize for what you said?” Satoru’s eyes widen.  It should’ve been a yes.  Like it was with Nanami.  He should’ve expected the hurt party to bend. To accept whatever apology he had in stock for them.  And yet the answer he keeps getting from himself is no. “I— I don’t know.” Satoru murmurs.  Suguru tilts his head. “You do know.”  “God you’ve always been so perceptive.” Satoru bemoans. “….no I don’t think I deserve to be able to apologize.” “But?” Suguru prompts.  “I still want to.” Satoru admits. “I don’t want to just sweep it under the rug like I did with Nanami…I want to be…different.” “Look at that.” Suguru says impressed. “Looks like I owe Shoko 50,000¥.”  “Suguru.” Satoru says scandalized.  “We had a betting pool to see if you’d learn from Nanami.” Suguru says with a lilt. “I should’ve bet on blue.”  Satoru buries his face in his hands. “Yeah you should’ve.”  “So how can I get him back?” Satoru asks.  “As a psychiatrist? I could give you a whole lecture.” Suguru snorts. “As your best friend? You’re cooked.”  “This is one you can’t charm your way out of.” Suguru singsongs.  “Are you enjoying my suffering?” Satoru asks.  “Oh, absolutely.” Suguru laughs. “It’s earned, and I find the whole thing entertaining.” “God why’d I come here…” Satoru mutters.  “Because I’m your best friend.” Suguru says warmly. “And because there’s not many people left at this hospital that think fondly of you.”  Satoru tilts his head. “Thanks Suguru you really know how to make a guy feel better.” Suguru raises his hands. “Hey this is what you get for free.”  Satoru presses the heel of his hand to his eye.  Suguru softens a touch more, he draws in a slow breath. “Just be yourself.” Satoru narrows his eyes. “Isn’t that how I got into this mess?”  Suguru rolls his eyes. “Be who you are when you’re not trying to impress anyone. Be Satoru, not Dr. Gojo, not the child prodigy, be yourself.” Satoru’s eyes widen. “What if…what if it doesn’t work?”  “Then at least you tried. You did your best.” Suguru puts a hand on Satoru’s shoulder. “Now get out, I have a patient waiting on me.”

Satoru tried. God above knows he did. Every single day after that meeting with Suguru, he came in with a new drink.  One day, one cup of coffee from the bakery you got the mochi from.  Each attempt fell flatter than the last.  He kept choosing wrong.  He kept trying to guess your coffee order, and each failure just reminded you and him that he didn’t know you, not truly.  Each pastry he bought that never seemed to sit quite right made the next attempt more and more fraught.  It seemed like the more Satoru tried the harder you leaned into professionalism.  Satoru sighs as he stamps his feet to get the snow off. “He’s gotta like this one right?” Satoru murmurs to himself.  Satoru sets the cup down on your desk. “Maybe if he thinks Nobara got it for him, he’ll drink it…” he wonders.  Satoru hangs his jacket, before blowing his breath into his hands to warm them.  “Jeez…it’s really coming down out there.” He says aloud in front of the window.  “The forecast did say blizzard.” He shakes his head as he sits down.  Satoru rolls his eyes as he opens his work laptop.  Two emails already came in. One from Nobara, the other from Ijichi saying they wouldn’t be coming in today.  “Good morning, Dr. Gojo.” You say monotonously, kicking the snow off your boots as you hang your jacket.   “Morning (Y/n).” Satoru responds softly.  “No Nobara or Ijichi today.” He adds.  You sigh. “Of course.”  “Let’s work on what we can and leave as early as possible so we don’t get snowed in.” You say as you put on your lab coat.  “Yeah.” Satoru nods. “Sounds good.” You immediately both get to work.  You check Nobara’s and Ijichi’s cell lines, their ELISA assays, their PCR results.  You jot down quick notes and observations before preserving and storing their samples. You look over your own samples with extra care and attention to detail.  You smile to yourself as your data comes together. “Shit it’s been coming down harder.” Satoru mutters staring out the window again.  “Hey (Y/n), finish up what you’re doing and head out of here. It’s really bad outside.” Satoru says turning to you. “I’m almost done Dr. Gojo.” You answer. “If you’re done with your work, you should head out first.” Satoru scoffs. “Not happening.”  You look over to him. “I beg your pardon?”  “I’m not leaving first. Especially not now during a blizzard.” He crosses his arms. “You’re stuck with me until you’re done and you’re out of here, so deal with it.”  You try to fight and ignore the warmth blooming in your chest.  He says he’s not leaving you with such conviction.  Almost like he himself forgot what he said those many months ago.  You shake your head and go back to your notes.  The moment you’re satisfied you leave your lab coat at your desk. You put your jacket on and head to the door.  You stop before fully leaving, gritting your teeth. “I’m leaving now, Dr. Gojo. Don’t stick around too long.”  You leave before he could respond, heading to your car.  The visibility is awful. You may as well be blind. You can’t see further than a foot in front of you.  The moment you get to your car you start it, turning the heat on max. You clear the snow from your windshield, finally hopping in the driver seat.  The car reverses, moving a few inches before the tires screech.  “Oh no.” You bemoan. “God please not this.”  You try again hitting the gas harder.  The tires screech louder, and move nowhere.  You smack the wheel in frustration.  “Okay.” You say taking a breath. A shiver dances up your spine. “Let the car heat for 10 - 15 minutes and then try again.” You tell yourself. “10 - 15 minutes…” You say again eyes fluttering. 

Satoru’s been watching the windows.  He’s been pacing a tread into the floor of the lab. “He hasn’t driven by.” Satoru murmurs.  He stares out the window, straining his ocean blue eyes.  “Fuck!” He snarls, hands slamming into his desk.  He grabs his desk phone. “Fuck…what’s uh— 2496.” “Hello, security desk, what’s the trouble?” A woman’s voice responds.  “Yeah, hi, I sent one of my employees home.” Satoru clears his throat. “He drives a red sedan. Can you check the cameras— or something— and tell me if he left or if his car’s stuck in the snow or something?”  “Sure. One moment please.” She says. The line doesn’t disconnect, but the hold music feels like nails on chalk board.  Every second is a second too long.  A second wasted. And Satoru knows better than most. He’s lived it.  A second wasted, could be the difference between life and death. “Hello?” She returns.  “Yes, hi.” Satoru answers immediately.  “The cameras picked up a few employees leaving, but none in a red sedan.” She reveals.  “Fuck—“ Satoru doesn’t end the call.  He yanks his lab coat off tossing it onto the seat.  He barely zips up his coat as he sprints out the building.  “Why the fuck am I doing this?” Satoru asks himself, already shivering. “Come on, come on— where does he park?” He scrambles checking lot A.  He rushes through when he doesn’t spot a red car.  He passes lot B, before doubling back.  He squints, the visibility is terrible, yet he swears he can see hazard lights barely flashing.  Something cold and cruel settles in his gut.  His feet move before he consciously decides to.  He freezes, his breathing catching.  “That’s— that’s his car.” Satoru manages to get out.  He sprints, nearly slipping twice.  He cups his hands around his eyes before pressing to the window.  His heart stops. You’re in the driver’s seat. Eyes closed.  Chest barely rising and falling. Your breath warm and visible in the cold, seems to shorten with each breath.  “His lips are blue.” Satoru notes.  Satoru rears his hand back, fingers curled into a fist.  His alpha screaming at him to save you.  He takes a shaky breath.  “Breaking the window will cause glass to fall all over him.” Satoru surmises. He tries the door, bracing himself in case he has to smash a window in. Satoru’s eyes widen as the door opens.  He immediately hears the fans spinning, but the air coming in is barely lukewarm.  “Fuck— the air intake must’ve been blocked.” He mutters as he unbuckles you.  He maneuvers you onto his back.  He shuts your car off, shutting the door and locking your car, as he pockets your keys.  His hands go under your thighs, hiking you up further making sure you won’t fall. Satoru rushes through the snow, ignoring the cold winds biting at his cheeks.   He ignores the ache in his back, lowering his posture further to make sure the cold can’t touch you further.

Satoru breathes heavily, kicking the snow off of his boots as he enters the lab again.  He gingerly places you in his seat, turning his space heater to high.  He takes off your snow-covered jacket, setting it on Nobara’s desk.  Satoru sprints out of the lab, nearly tripping as he goes into the ER. He snatches a few warmed blankets, rushing back to you.  “Oh thank god…” Satoru mutters seeing your lips turning back to their lush color.  He doesn’t hesitate, he doesn’t wait. He wonders how ethical this is as he strips your wet, cold clothes replacing them with the warm blankets.  “Uh— uhm— something warm…” Satoru says, making coffee, tea, hot chocolate.  He calls the cafeteria cashing in a favor and getting a variety of soups brought to the lab.  He sets them down, turning his focus back to you.  He checks your temperature, taking a deeper breath as it climbs.  Satoru jumps back as you groan softly. Your eyes flutter open, pupils dilated and unfocused.  “Sa—Satoru?” You ask softly.  He kneels down, making himself seem smaller than he is. “You’re in the lab, (Y/n).” You blink fast, like you’re trying to declump your lashes. “Why…? I was…I was waiting for my car to heat up.”  Satoru makes a sound, something halfway between laughter and a sob. “Yeah. You were.” He takes a breath, dragging a hand through his snow-white hair. “You passed out. I don’t know— your car wasn’t heating, I think.”  You narrow your eyes. “You think? You sound like you were out there.” Satoru’s throat works. “Because I was. I went looking for you when I didn’t see your car leave.”  Your eyes widen, then narrow again like you’re catching him in a lie. “Right. Sure you did. Dr. Gojo came looking for little ole me.”  Satoru stiffens like you struck him. “I— I deserve that.”  “But it’s true.” He says with a small smile. “I went out there, because I— I was worried about you.”  Your eyes widen again, you draw in a sharp breath. “You don’t have to lie, you know.”  “I’m not lying.” Satoru snaps.  He groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Look, let’s not go back and forth. Let’s get your temperature up.”  He gets up, moving your chair closer to the table. “Eat up. Slowly. I didn’t know what soup you’d like so I had the cafeteria bring a few options.”  You look scandalized, but soften against your will at the spread.  Chicken noodle, split pea, and cheddar broccoli.  You reach for your favorite first.  Your arms feel weak, you can barely hold the spoon without shaking. “Fuck me.”  “Here.” Satoru takes the spoon from you, sitting on the desk, and trying to feed you. “Blow softly, it’s hot.” “I don’t need—“ “I know.” Satoru interrupts. “I know. The soup is still hot. Blow on it to cool it down.”  You grit your teeth, but do as he says.  You blow on the soup, before letting him bring it closer.  You sigh softly as the warm broth goes down.  You assume that’s why there’s warmth coiling in your core.

The moment the bowl is empty, Satoru sets it aside.  He pulls out his temperature wand.  He brings it to your forehead freezing as you pull away. “Just making sure you’re still warming up.” You nod, before gritting your teeth and letting him slowly swipe it across in an arc.  “99.9°….” He mutters. “Do you feel a little too warm?”  “No.” You say, wrapping the blanket around yourself tighter. You freeze, finally noting how dangerously close you are to being naked.  You slowly open a flap in the blanket like you need visual confirmation.  “Satoru.” You say sternly.  He jumps, before looking away.  “Why am I almost naked?”  Satoru clears his throat, the blush creeping up to the tips of his ears.  “Your clothes were wet.” He mutters. “They’re drying on Nobara’s desk.” Your eyes land on her desk, you nod slowly seeing your drenched clothes.  “How long was I out there?” You whisper.  “Maybe half an hour?” Satoru answers. “I’m not too sure.”  You slowly nod. “You really came to get me, huh?” “I did.” Satoru says softly. “I did.” “Why?” You ask, turning towards him. “Why wouldn’t I?” Satoru asks offended.  “You didn’t exactly make it seem like I was worthy of your time.” You curtly respond.  Satoru flinches like you back-handed him.  “I…I deserve that.” He says quietly. “I’m sorry.” You tilt your head at him.  The illustrious, genius, once-in-a-lifetime prodigy, Satoru Gojo, didn’t do apologies.  At least not if what people said about him was true.  “You’re sorry?” You parrot with a disbelieving laugh. “I thought someone worse than rock bottom wouldn’t ever get an apology out of you.”

“I didn’t say it to you.” Satoru defends.  You raise an eyebrow giving him a less than satisfied look.  “Okay, I did say it to you, but it wasn’t about you.” Satoru clarifies.  You laugh coldly. “That’s your excuse?”  Satoru sighs, it sounds annoyed, but it’s with himself, with how he let his emotions get the better of him.  “Yes— No— UGH!” He groans, throwing his head back. “Listen.” Satoru leans forward, forearms braced on his thighs. “I was….I was in a long term relationship.”  You can see his hands shake as he speaks.  “With another doctor— he still works here. And I see him. All the time.” Satoru admits softly.  “Things ended…badly. And…and it was my fault.” He says like the words burn.  “I wasn’t— couldn’t be…what he needed.” Satoru admits with a choked laugh.  “I thought if I…if I loved him harder…made it more and more obvious he’d stick around even when I fucked up and failed him…” Satoru whispers.  “And it still wasn’t enough.” His lips warble. “Because I just couldn’t give him what he needed…I could give him the world, but I couldn’t understand him.”  You scan his face looking for any sign he’s full of shit, but for once, all you see is the begrudging sincerity of someone baring himself for the first time in forever. “I thought if I apologized enough— or ignored the issues we had it could work out…it could last…and— and things wouldn’t change.” Satoru’s face brightens, his lips curl into a smile, before falling again. “And it didn’t.”  Satoru’s eyes find yours, brightening again. “And then you came in.” Your breathing hitches, your fingers curl around your blanket tighter. “And all of a sudden I wasn’t thinking about him. I wasn’t spiraling about him.” Satoru laughs. “It felt great. Exhilarating, amazing.”  Satoru’s breathing catches. “And then I thought what if I fuck that up too.”  “What if I can’t understand him the way I couldn’t understand Nanami? What if I trust him, and he leaves again like Nanami?” Satoru’s voice stutters. “All of that to say I’m not blaming you.” He clarifies. “What I said was cruel. What I said was hurtful.”  Your eyes soften just a touch further.  “I said it because I was scared.” He mutters. “It was just us…I couldn’t stop staring at your lips…and then I remembered how I fucked up…and I thought if I— if I put some kind of space between us I could pretend like it was never meant to be instead of it’s my fault I ruined something good, again.”  You nod softly.  “I’m sorry.” He says again like a prayer. “I shouldn’t have said that.” You laugh softly, eyes wet. “Yeah, you shouldn’t have.” “Because truthfully…” Satoru hesitates, squeezing his eyes shut but going on anyways. “You’re out of my league.” The words layer around him like armor. I don’t know if I deserve to ask for anything from you.” You laugh curtly. “You always do that, Satoru.”  He tenses, before relaxing at finally hearing his name fall from your lips again.  “Do what?” He asks. “Assume shit.” You say. “You’re still going it. You’re still trying to push me away.” Satoru flinches. “No I’m not.” He says softly.  “You are.” You cross your arms. “You say I’m out of your league. You’re assuming I could never like you, I could never want you, but you never even stopped to ask if that’s how I actually feel.”  Satoru’s eyes widen. His breathing stutters.  “You like me?” He asks softly.  “I— I didn’t say that…” You turn away feeling heat crawl up your face. Satoru draws closer, sitting on his desk in front of you. “Then what are you saying,” his hand shakes as it goes to tilt your head up by your chin, “(Y/n)?”  You can’t meet his eyes, that warmth in the pit of your stomach coiling higher, burning brighter. “I’m—“, a shiver runs down your spine, “I’m just saying fortune favors the bold.”  You push his hand away, almost jolting at the contact. “You could’ve saved us both a lot of hurt and time if you had just taken a chance on me.”  Satoru’s hand falls to his side, fingers clenching as if he could catch the ghost of your fingers on his and lace them together. 

“I don’t know how to be bold without arrogance.” He whispers.  Your eyes soften, you feel heat crawling up your face. “Start by just asking me something.” Satoru’s mouth opens— “Without hiding behind something. Without making it a joke, or something you can play off.” You cross your arms. “Something like ‘I like you, I would like to take you out on a date.’ not ‘I’m going to this restaurant, maybe I’ll see you there maybe not.’” You clarify.  Satoru laughs, hanging his head. “You’re not gonna make this easy for me, huh?”  “Nope.” You giggle, before clearing your throat. “I don’t think you deserve easy after what you said to me.”  Satoru tilts his head conceding your point. “Fair enough.”  He steps closer, leaning forward to be eye level with you. “(Y/n) Itadori, you’re smart, capable, you’re brilliant, I— I like being around you.”  He squeezes his eyes taking a breath. “I’d love for the chance to take you out on a date.”  “If you’ll—“  He stops when you raise an eyebrow.  “If you’ll have me. That’s it. No jokes.”  You take a deep breath, dry on purpose, but a hint of something else underneath it.  “Even at rock bottom you can still be brave.” You say softly not meeting his eyes.  Satoru shrinks, everything in him braces for a ‘no.’. “Yeah.” You smile, finally looking, not through, but at him. “I’d like that.”  Satoru finally takes a deep breath like he’s come back to life.  “Thank you.” He manages to get out. “I won’t make you regret it.” Your eyes widen, a smile tugging at your lips. “Don’t write checks you won’t be able to cash.”  Satoru gasps, scandalized, and faux offended. “How dare you?” His hand flies to his chest.  “I’ve never had a card decline or a check bounce.” He crosses his arms, a playful giggle escaping.  “Oh I’m sure.” You snicker leaning back.  You let the blanket fall before pulling it closer, feeling hot and cold. “How bad is it outside?” You swivel around to look out the window.  Satoru winces as you both take in the storm. “Yeah. It’s…it’s not pretty.” “God.” You groan, dragging a hand down your face.  “Well…” you try to be positive, “it could be worse?”  Satoru’s gaze flies to you. “How exactly could it be worse?”  “Well…you could be stuck with someone insufferable.” You shrug. “You won’t find better company, while I…well, I’m here stuck with you.” “Hey!” Satoru laughs.  “So, Satoru.” You start, trying hard to keep eye contact and only managing quick glances. “Yeah?” He clears his throat, skin already dusted and getting pinker around his cheeks, ears, and neck.  “What does a first date with you look like?” You manage to ask.  He sputters, short-circuiting, rebooting as he processes your words.  “It looks like— uh— me, picking you up.” Satoru takes a step closer. “Complimenting you, telling you how good you look, how good you smell.”  You feel that persistent heat in your gut start to climb higher. “Y-yeah?”  “Yeah.” Satoru says nervously. “I take us to a nice restaurant. Nicer than the one I took the team to.” “I’d have three separate reservations just in case the first place is a dud.” He adds.  You snort.  “Prepared.” You whistle. “Egregiously so.”  Satoru scoffs, smile stretched across his face. “I think it’s more the bare minimum for you, babe.” His eyes widen. “Shit— sorry— I didn’t— I mean I did— but— fuck…I’m sorry.”  You tilt your head. “Slow your roll, I don’t think we’re at pet names yet.” Satoru deflates. “Right…sorry.”  You feel your chest squeezing.  You never could bear to see him hurt.  “I think I wanna get there with you, though.” You add placing a hand on his.  Satoru gives you a cocky goofy smile. “See? No one can resist my charm.”  You roll your eyes, lips curled, taking your hand back. “No one has to resist, they just have to wait for you to open your mouth and it’ll do it for them just fine.”  You and Satoru both stare at each other for a beat, before he smirks and laughs despite himself.  You enjoy the soft quiet, the tension-less, effortless way you both seem to fall back into old habits like they never really stopped. 

You feel sweat beading across your forehead.  You take a shaky breath suddenly very aware of how the blanket feels on your skin.  “Is— is the heat on high?” You manage to get out, open mouth breathing. Satoru quirks his head.  He looks you up and down. “I don’t think so?”  He comes closer, his scent brushing against every nerve ending. “Here, can I?”   He holds his hand out.  Your thighs clench together harder, you nod softly.  You jolt, biting your bottom lip to keep from making a sound as Satoru’s hand touches your forehead.  “Jesus (Y/n), you’re burning up.” Satoru says worried. “Here I’ll go—“ You make a sad broken sound at the thought of him being further away than he is right now.  He stiffens like someone unplugged him.  His nose twitches like it’s writing something in Morse code.  He pinches his nose, hand going down to cover his growing bulge. “(Y/n), when— when was your last heat?” The words sound muffled, like your head is underwater.  “Don’t— don’t remember…a few weeks ago?” You struggle to say. “Shouldn’t be this early…”  Satoru bites the inside of his cheek. “(Y/n), listen. I’m going to step out—“ “Don’t.” You blurt out, eyes glossy. “Don’t leave me here.”  Satoru bites down harder, as if the taste of iron could keep him sane.  “I don’t want to leave you, but the hospital has heat suppressants.” He says calmly, voice unconsciously dropping into that rough alpha growl omegas love and respond to.  “I have to go get them.” He says softly.  You shake your head. “Don’t leave me here alone.” You sniffle. “There’s— there’s another way to make it stop…if that’s your concern.”  Satoru steps closer, hand braced on the desk. “(Y/n), you’re not thinking clearly.” “I am!” You say desperately, dragging yourself forward.  Satoru swallows a groan, his own body responding to the warmth of yours, to the scent falling off of you in thick rich coils.  You gasp softly feeling Satoru’s hard on press into your thigh.  Satoru gently puts some space between you both. “(Y/n).”  His pupils are wide, wide as can be, the black nearly eclipsing that familiar blue hue.  “I— I shouldn’t. Not unless you can say it coherently.” He says hanging his head.  He wants nothing more than to sink into you, to bury his knot deep, to prove you belong to him. But he doesn’t.  He waits. He wants full clarity. For you.  For him.  “Satoru.” You whimper.  His head whips up, breathing heavier than moments before.  “Touch me.” You gasp softly taking his hand and pressing it to your crotch.  “Fuck me.” You moan. “Knot me. Make it stop the only way an alpha can.”  Satoru’s breath stutters as he finally smells your slick smearing between your thighs.  “Fuck me.” You whine again, grinding forward into his hand. “I want you.”  You moan softly, forehead pressed to his chest.  Your hips jerking forward jaggedly like the calloused feel, the rough drag forward is all that’s keeping you standing.  Satoru’s strong hand goes to your jaw, he angles your face upwards towards him.  He leans down, lips barely touching yours. “You want me this badly?” Your eyes gloss again. “Yes— yes Satoru.”  Satoru doesn’t hesitate.  He leans down molding his lips against yours.  Your eyes flutter shut, you sigh softly as you melt into his kiss.  Satoru takes charge entirely, slowly moving the both of you until your back is against desk.  Satoru pulls away, breathing heavily, forehead against yours. “Hop up for me.”  You whimper, sitting on the desk, spreading your legs for him.  “Fucking beautiful like this.” Satoru murmurs, his long fingers dragging through the mess beneath you. “Tell me (Y/n).” Satoru leans down, biting the shell of your ear. “You take anyone down here? Or am I the first?” You shudder, thighs trying to clamp about his wrists. 

“Aht aht aht.” Satoru drawls. “That won’t do.”  “You’re not the first.” You say frustrated.  Satoru’s eyes darken.  He pushes two fingers inside you, only stopping once his palm is against your taint.  “But I will be the last, right?” He coos, kissing your cheeks, licking up your tears.  “Ngh— fuck—“ You moan softly, trying to grind down into his hand.  “S’not enough, is it?” He asks, a third finger already nudging at your rim.  You shake your head, hands going to Satoru’s shoulders to ground yourself.  “Good.” Satoru smiles wider. “‘Cause I’m not done stretching you.” Satoru scissors his fingers, spreading them wider until you’re softer, pliant.  He watches with amusement as your cock bobs, like you’re right at the edge already.  “You cummin’ this quick?” He asks, slowly dragging his fingers in and out.  “Ngh—! Anh I’m— I’m— sensitive!” You gasp, clutching at Satoru’s forearm.  Satoru coos teasingly, like he’s handling a misbehaving brat. “I know hon—(Y/n), I can tell.” He kisses each of your eyes, he moves your hand to your own cock, wrapping his fingers around yours, yours around your cock.  “Make a mess.” Satoru hums. “Let me see how good you can make yourself feel.” “Angh! Sa-Satoru—!” You breathe, hips jerking forward.  “Not like that.” He reminds. “Just your hand.”  You bite your lip, hand slowly working yourself as Satoru’s fingers keep dragging against that spot that has stars bursting behind your eyelids.  “Yeah…just like that.” Satoru says gruffly.  He withdraws his fingers, shushing your protests.  You tremble, until you hear his zipper slide down.  Your breathing hitches, as you feel him try to wrap your hand around both of your cocks.  “Use both hands if you have to.” Satoru whispers.  You can feel the heat coming off of him, the throb and pulse of his heartbeat through the veins in his cock.  He’s got a good 4 more inches than you, and thicker too.  “Satoru— it won’t— it won’t fit.” Your eyes go up to his.  “It will.” Satoru’s hips snap forward fucking into your hand. “I’ll make it fit.”  You moan brokenly at the thought.  You’re already keening just imagining his girth splitting you open.  The way he already demands— doesn’t ask— for space.  “Satoru, I’m ready please— put it in.” You manage to get out. Satoru hums, but his fingers keep moving.  Keep stretching you open.  “Don’t wanna ruin this pretty hole of yours.” Satoru murmurs. He lets his tongue hang, groaning as his spit drips onto your cock and trickles down to your rim.  His fingers pull out, circle your rim, smearing his spit, before they push in deeply again.  “You sure you can take me now?” He asks with a crooked smile.  “Fuck— yes, Satoru. I ca—NGH!” You sob feeling his fingers nail your prostate with precision. “There it is.” He whispers.  Satoru’s fingers finally leave you.  You hear Satoru’s hand furiously jerk back and forth.  When your eyes meet his, you clench around nothing.  It’s the sheer hunger in his eyes. The way his own hand barely wraps around his own cock.  “Yeah.” Satoru laughs. “Watch me get my dick nice and wet with your slick.”  His other hand goes to your head, threading his fingers into your hair.  He groans watching your eyes get a little more hazy when he tugs on your hair.  Satoru grabs both of your legs, putting them on his hips.  He grabs his cock, giving himself a few more rubs before he lines up the blunt head to your rim.  “Last chance.” He warns.  “Do it.” You don’t hesitate or stumble.  Satoru smirks, hips slowly pushing forward.  You gasp, hand clutching at Satoru’s shirt.  He slows down, but keeps pushing in, deeper and deeper, against the way your walls clench and clasp around him. 

“Fuck—(Y/n)…this hole is unreal.” He groans.

“Fuck— Satoru…” You sob. 

“I know bab— (Y/n)…almost there.” He grunts out. 

Satoru spreads your legs a little wider, he leans down kissing you deeply, tongue swiping in like he owns your mouth.

You melt into the kiss, arms wrapping around him.

Satoru adjusts his grip, before his hips thrust forward, fucking the last few inches in, until his hips are flush against yours. 

 “NGH—?!” Your moan is swallowed up.

Satoru takes labored breaths, like being buried in you this deep has him on edge already.  Your toes curl, your legs pull back, trembling, your cock pulses against your stomach.  Your abdomen tenses, before your cock throbs, white ropes painting your shirt and skin.  You lean against satoru gasping softly, still riding the aftershocks of your orgasm. “There we go— fuck— (Y/n) you keep squeezing like that I’m not gonna last long.” Satoru whispers against your lips. He grinds in deeper trying to stretch out your orgasm.  “Can’t— fuck…” You gasp, hips pushing back as if he could get any deeper.  “Can’t stop?” Satoru teases. “Don’t say can’t handle it…I think you’re taking it pretty well." Satoru’s hips pull back an inch, and slide forward an inch.  Your hands fist in Satoru’s shirt, legs drawing up like you’re going to cum again. “Satoru— ‘ove please.” You beg. “Please.”  Satoru gives you a lusty smile as he pulls back farther and drives forward harsher.  “Ngh— ahh! Nnmfgh!” You moan sweetly, feeling the thick drag of him in and out.  “Yeah. That’s it.” Satoru whispers, hands moving to your hips. “Take it.”  His hips snap against yours faster and faster. “Take it. Just like that.”  “Ah! Sa-satoru— Ngh— agh” You moan brokenly.   Satoru pulls you closer, making you match him thrust for thrust.  He groans when he feels you clench, one of his hands moving to stroke you through your orgasm.  You gasp sharply feeling his fist move up and down, squeezing at your head, his thumb smearing the precum beading at your tip.  “Satoru— I’m— I’m— close—!” You cry out, back arching off of the desk. “Yeah?” He coos. “Go ahead. Let go.”  His hips snap against yours faster and faster, each thrust making you jolt up before his hands drag you back down.  Your mouth falls open in a wordless shriek as you cum again. Satoru slows down, just grinding his alpha cock into you as he works the last few ropes out of you.  You sag against the desk breathless, shuddering as the aftershocks of your high still zap through you.  “Good boy.” Satoru hums.  He leans down, kissing you softly, pressing his forehead against yours. “Still burning up.” He says solemnly.  “That won’t do.” He says personally offended.  “Come on, up.” Satoru says softly. He gently guides you up, turning you around, before gently pushing you forward.  You shiver as your hot body touches the cold desk. Satoru bites his knuckles watching you clench around nothing slick pooling and dripping down.  “I’ve got a knot with your name on it (Y/n).” Satoru pushes back in, letting you feel the hard, hot, heavy, swollen flesh at the base of him.  “It’d be a shame to waste it. All you gotta do is ask for it.” He teases, pushing in, letting your rim stretch just barely, before he pulls away.     You hold onto the edge of the desk, trying to push back and force the knot in yourself.  Satoru tuts and pushes your hips down, laughing as you whine and whimper.  “Come on, (Y/n).” Satoru drawls leaning down, chest to your back.  “Satoru— S-AAh-toru please.” You beg, lifting your hips higher.  “You know all you have to do is ask.” Satoru singsongs, grinding his knot deeper, letting it almost pop before pulling back.  He winces at the broken sound you make. “Don’t do that (Y/n).” He rubs his cheek against yours.  “Satoru please— knot me— please pleaseplease…” You sob tears falling, lashes wet.  Satoru’s chest rumbles, satisfied with you. “There you go. That wasn’t so hard see?”  “Sa-Aaah—!” You sob with relief feeling Satoru’s hips slam against yours again. 

“Yeah…” Satoru says with primal hunger. “There we go.” 

Satoru watches each of your reactions, like he’s burning them into memory. 

You sob and writhe pushing back against his thrusting, nails dragging against the wood.

“That’s not gonna fly.” Satoru murmurs. 

He pushes all the way in, grinding his swollen knot against your rim. 

He kisses the back of your neck dragging his canines against the soft flesh.

He laves your nape with his tongue, keeping you distracted as he takes both your hands by your wrists and pins them to the small of your back. 

“Can’t have you damaging the office furniture.” Satoru snickers as he draws his hips back and slams forward.  Your moans go up an octave as he ruins you, with his relentless pacing.  “Aren’t you just the sweetest?” Satoru teases, snapping his hips into yours faster. Every time he bottoms out he grinds his knot just a fraction deeper.  “Sah-Satoru— please!” You sob. “I can’t— I can’t—“ “Shhh.” Satoru hums, his thrusts getting harder more instant. “Yes you can.” “Come on, give me another.” Satoru kisses your cheek, dragging his tongue across the salty tracks on your face. “Then I’ll knot you nice and deep.”  You mewl, right at the edge. “Satoru— I can’t—“  Satoru tuts. “Yes you can.”  His lips curl into a smile against the nape of your neck. “Here I’ll help.”  One of his hands hold both your wrists, the other reaches around stroking your aching sensitive cock. “Angh! F—fuck!” You sob, hips arching higher.  “Yeah there we go.” Satoru murmurs. “Keep chasing it.” His angle shifts, with each thrust he nails you prostate, and drives a little deeper. “Ngh— Sa-AH-toru~” You cry, clenching down around him.  “Yeah?” He asks gently, a stark contrast to how throughly he’s ruining you. “Go ahead.”  Your orgasm crashes into you. Thick, warm, heavy, white ropes paint Satoru’s desk and hand.  “So good for me.” He murmurs, thrusting harder.  He brings that same hand up, licking himself clean, before grabbing your hip.  “Big stretch.” He says smugly.  You feel the shift instantly, his knot isn’t teasing the lock anymore. It’s pushing in.  Deeper. Harder. More insistent.  Satoru shakily exhales, hips pausing for a second.  Before you can make a sound of frustration, before you can even whine, you feel his legs spread a little more.  “Sorry.” He says softly. His hips crash into yours with a force that press the knot in all the way.  “God— Fuck!” Satoru groans, knot throbbing and pulsing, molten heat coating every inch of your insides. “Yeah— f-fuck— keep milking me.”  Satoru’s hips jerk forward and grind in tiny motions, his alpha hindbrain taking over and making him fuck his cum even deeper.  “F—mmpgh~! Satoru— I can’t—“ You sob, every nerve alight with pleasure.  “Yeah you can.” Satoru presses his chest to your back, his full weight keeping you pinned.  “C’mon…” Satoru kisses the nape of your neck, as his hand goes to wrap around your sensitive cock.  “Ngh!” You jolt like a spark lit up inside you. “I— can’t—!”  “You’ll feel so much better.” Satoru’s hand squeezes harshly around the leaky head of your cock, before his fists starts pumping. You gasp, loud, fraught, pushing back against his hips.  “Just one more, hmm?” Satoru whispers, hips grinding in needy little circles.  “Fuck—fuck—fuck—!” You cry out, walls clamping down even harder on Satoru’s girthy knot.  “Oh— god—“ Satoru buries his teeth into your shoulder, as his muscles tense and relax.  Your mouth drops open in silent bliss as your cock dribbles your watery spend.  Satoru’s hips give one last jagged thrust.

He groans against your shoulder, spit and heat coming out around the seal of his lips on you, abs fluttering as his orgasm crashes through him and into you.  You pant softly, legs shaking, whimpering as your body still clenches around him.  “S’okay (Y/n).” Satoru groans. “Just ride it out.”  You purr softly, melting into his body heat.  Satoru leans down rubbing his cheek against yours.  He stiffens immediately, pulling away slightly. “Is this okay?”  You breathily laugh. “You’re knot deep in me…if you don’t do aftercare, this is the first and last time you ever touch me.”  Satoru snaps back down, cheek rubbing against yours more eagerly. “I’m willing— I want to.”  You let yourself enjoy the attention. “As far as first dates go this isn’t so bad.”  Satoru snorts. “As far as first dates go, I dunno how I’m gonna do better than this.” You sigh contentedly. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”  Satoru smiles softly, pressing his lips to the bite mark he left on your shoulder. “Thanks.” You smile softly, before wincing slightly.  “What’s wrong?” Satoru asks immediately.  “Just—“ you groan, not in pleasure, not pained exactly, but somewhere close. “Just a little tender.” Satoru’s scent blankets over you, muting the discomfort a bit. “Here. Let me adjust us.” Satoru slowly moves you, making sure the knot doesn’t tug.  He pauses, taking a breath when he feels it pull, and your walls clench.  You mewl softly, breath catching.  “I know.” He whispers, his thumb gently swiping across your cheek. “I know.” He waits until you nod before moving you again.  “Arms around my neck.” He whispers moment you’re on your back. You lock your arms around his neck, gasping as his hands go under your thighs.  “Up and at’em.” He says dryly, lifting you up.  Satoru sits down in his chair, pulling you close against his chest.  He drapes the warmed ER blankets he brought earlier over you both. “Better?” He asks. “Better.” You whisper.  Your eyes flutter, before you make them snap open. “I wore you out, huh?” Satoru says smugly.  You scoff, smile stretched across your face. “I’ve had better.” Satoru pouts immediately. “I’m better than Sukuna.”  You gag. “Don’t be gross.”  Satoru leans back making eye contact with you. “I saw you and him…having lunch together…I’m not judging, but I am saying I’m better than him.” “This is not Alabama Satoru, I’m not fucking my brother.” You say, annoyed.  His face flushes bright red. “Y-your brother…?” Your eyes narrow. “You did know that right?”  Satoru looks away. “Y-yeah of course— no I didn’t.”  “My last name is Itadori.” You say unimpressed. “Did that not, like, establish the familial connection?”  “Well yeah, duh…” Satoru says completely serious. “In my defense….I’ve met 2 Itadoris prior to you, and none of them acted even remotely similar, so forgive me for not seeing the family connection.”  You snort. “My god you’re inept. Did you not look at my employee profile?”  Satoru’s mouth drops open in offense, he sputters through a few sounds. “I was going to! Eventually…” “Satoru I’ve worked here for months now. You were never gonna look at it.” You snicker.  Satoru huffs softly, pressing your head under his chin. “I will now though.”   You hide your smile in the crux of Satoru’s neck. “You’d better…and now that I think about it, if the cameras work you’re gonna be famous for all the wrong reasons.”  “Don’t worry my desk is placed right in the blind spot.” Satoru laughs softly. “Besides, I’m sure the public would love to see me wreck and knot an omega.”  You chortle into Satoru’s neck.  “You like— OW!” Satoru groans.

You kiss the bite mark around his Adam’s apple. “I’m sure they would.”

“And don’t think I’m forgetting about that date you promised.” You nuzzle closer again. 

“I’d be upset if you did.” Satoru whispers. “Friday. After work, 8pm. A nice restaurant with a view of Tokyo’s city line.”

He looks down, eyes meeting yours. “How does that sound?” 

“Sounds good, great even. As long as I’m with you.” You kiss his cheek. “And as long as you stop assuming shit.” 

Satoru laughs. “I’ll try my hardest.”

“Good. I don’t want perfect, I just want you to try.” You say softly. 

[self-indulgent-fiction]

may I please request a Luffy x fem reader, where the reader went out on a mission with Usopp and he actually did something pretty brave and when they got back to the shop Usopp kept talking about how brave he was but everyone thought he was making it up until the reader started boasting about how awesome he was and then Luffy gets all jealous that the readers attention was on Usopp. It’s kind of a weird request but I thought it would be cute. Thank you :)

I love this idea! It’s so cute, thank you for requesting my self indulgent friend~ This ended it up fairly gender neutral, sorry, and it takes place some time post time skip. Hope it satisfies!

X...X...X

Don't Forget Me!!

Even when he shouldn’t have any reason to, Luffy gets jealous of Usopp.

Tags: fluff, minor jealousy, established relationship

WC: 1.4k

X…X…X

He wouldn’t shut up about it.

Of course, Usopp was in the habit of never shutting up about anything. Normally this was a source for most of Luffy’s fun. Since the moment Luffy met Usopp, he’d thought his loud absurd lies were the funniest things he’d ever heard. He could listen to Usopp talk about just anything, and be laughing most of the time.

Today though, he’s not so amused. The sound of chatter is loud on the deck of the Sunny, full of everyone’s voices except his, which is highly unusual.

They’d just stopped off on an island, where you’d decided to head off with Usopp to hunt around town for tinkering supplies and probably to eat. Luffy’d thought about inviting you to walk around with him while Nami, Franky, and Sanji actually worried about making sure the ship had plenty of food and munitions, but you were gone before he could ask.

He'd started off the day a little grumpy, because of that. You always made visiting these small little island communities entertaining, quick to see fun things that he would have looked over. Even if it was just a shiny rock in a puddle somewhere! He wouldn’t see something like that if you weren’t around, so what was he supposed to do with himself all day?

He started off by lingering around Zoro for a bit, before they parted ways outside some half broken-down tavern. Zoro stayed so he could drink every patron there under the table, while Luffy headed outside of town.

He wandered around for a while, singing to himself, sometimes whistling, and spent all afternoon bug chasing until he caught the biggest shiniest beetle and kept it tight in his hand. He’d been gone for hours and hours—all the shopping was probably already done (though he wasn’t really thinking about it like that)—and just knew the crew was probably waiting for him. And by the time he arrived back at the ship, he was right.

All the Strawhat’s had reunited only a few moments before, but none of them were paying attention to him as he arrived. He could hear Usopp talking from halfway down the pier, and picked up speed, practically flinging himself aboard. He was eager to share what he’d been up to, and hear what everyone else was too, but first he wanted to show off his prize.

But Usopp was already telling his story. He had a boot up on a barrel, and was flexing his arms, proclaiming—as usual—that he was the bravest man on the seas and had finally proved it. No one would believe what kind of day he and you had had, he declared, nor how he’d been the one to save it. It was an amazing adventure, completely unbelievable, and, of course, he wanted to share.

Everyone rolls their eyes, each doubtful. If what Usopp said was always true, the sun would fall out of the sky because he wasn’t there to hold it up in the morning.

They all blow him off… until you speak up.

“No, no, you wouldn’t believe it! Usopp was incredible.” And you sound all in awe, while Usopp nods along, “There was this guy in the market selling the weirdest widget and—”

Everyone turns to you, including Luffy, to hear what kind of real tall tale you could possibly be telling, but his smile falls as you continue. Sure, it sounded like long-nose had been brave, setting them off on a chain of events which had them running around on an adventure that ends up with Usopp actually defeating some brown-noser and saving the town.

The story instantly doesn’t matter to him.

That tone, is supposed to be saved. It’s how you talk about him around the decks or to the people you meet as the Sunny sails the Grand Line. With stars in your eyes, and that mixture of awe and gratitude that would make anyone well proud. Usopp certainly does look it, he hardly ever has a reason to be so genuinely prideful, and he’ll milk it for this moment and a million more.

The “captain” slumps, not even bothering to listen to the one-time Usopp has actually managed to do something incredible. Normally, you’d be quick to find Luffy if it appeared like he’d entered one of his moods. This time, he wanders off, but you don’t follow.

Of course not, he thinks, you’re too busy with your new favorite.

You and Usopp do get along, you both like fixing things and testing out new contraptions. There’s a sibling sort of rivalry between the two of you, as you were always trying to outdo him and he you. Or, at least Luffy thought it was a sibling-like rivalry. But using that voice on Usopp, and looking so happy to be by his side…

He was totally stuck on the stomach retching sick feeling that came with seeing you there, and instead of next to him.

Even if he was usually a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, there were times where Luffy could be caught with a frown and a sort of depressed fog that had him slumping over his favorite seat and staring at the sky for hours on end. Usually, you’d be quick to notice and drag him back into the sunshine. But see, that was the problem.

You were still with Usopp.

While he mopes, the happy, proud, chatter continues. Eventually, they’ve hit the water again and the sun is setting, and Brook playing violin across the deck is a soft pleasant sound, that follows the rhythm of the boat as it sails off into the empty, vast ocean.

He shouldn’t be so surprised when you finally come by to check on him, but he is.

“Hey, Loof.” And you sound so chipper. He looks up, lethargic, and so pathetically upset. He’s a dramatic man in a dramatic mood, especially with the way he sluggishly moves, like his limbs weigh a million pounds.

“Hey.” He says, though he’s looking high above your head instead of at you.

“Luffy, what’s wrong?”

He puffs out a cheek. “Nothing…”

You don’t believe him, having already suspected why he’d wandered off. His attempt at being blasé only confirms it.

Creeping up a little closer and right next to his ear, your cutting right to the obvious accusation. “Are you jealous?”

He snaps, “No!” But even the tips of his ears go pink. How did you know that so quickly???

“You are!”

He slides off the lion head and waves his hand over his head. Stomping off, that doesn’t stop you from following after, laughing again in a way that only makes him blush harder. “Nah-ah. I am not. Nope. Not at all. Couldn’t be me.” He raddled off, trying and failing to seem nonchalant.

You dart forward, sticking your head over his shoulder and landing a quick peck on his cheek. He freezes as your breath ghosts across his ear.

“Luffy, don’t be mad at me.” You bid, “Usopp and I had fun today, but that doesn’t have to be the only fun. We can spend some time together, just you and me.”

He bristles at first, but pauses when your voice tilts. Now that voice, the one that’s a little darker. That’s the one that’s actually, just for him. The kind of tone that makes his heart beat skyrocket. The one that reminds him that he’s picked you, and you’ve picked him.

“Dinner’s not quite ready,” you add, just as teasing, “and I just saw Franky leave the crow’s nest…”

He blinks once, then all that tension he’d been holding onto melts away. Of course, you’re not replacing him. How could someone even replace him?

And he’s not giving you a second chance to change your mind!!!

“Meet you there!” He zooms off before you can finish the sentence.

Your laughter is left in the dust as he heads to the ‘meet up zone’ before you can say a word more. You’ll follow after in a few minutes. Mostly to stick your head around and make sure that you guys will actually be alone up there. Luffy never really cares about what other people do or do not see about your relationship, but you do, and you plan on making up for making him sad--without interruption.

You sigh, and smile to yourself. Sometimes he’s a handful, but you’re happy he’s your handful.

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