hi! I'm an 18-year-old beginner writer. I mostly write about jjk but I'm totally down to write about different characters if you have something in mind. Thank you for taking the time to read this and I hope my works are something you can enjoy with all your heart.
you say goodbye to your good friend Choso forever, but he calls you up one night, begging you to come help him out one last time. But he isn't the one getting patched up, it's his boss, Gojo Satoru.
I don't wanna' be a homewrecker. pt1
you're in love with your best-friend Satoru, but one day he shows up with a girlfriend and completely derails your life. You decide to ignore him, unable to hide your feelings for him.
Is this love? pt1 more coming...
your boyfriend, Satoru is acting weird. He wouldn't know anything about your missing guy friend, right?
Who would've thought? pt1 pt2 pt3 pt4 more coming...
your friends completely ditch you, making you realize they've turned you into something you aren't. You apologize to all your victims, but one victim in particular isn't as forgiving.
Jealous type pt1
you decided to break up with your boyfriend, Satoru because you couldn't deal with all the attention he gets; but he quickly shows you you're the only girl he wants.
34+35 pt1
69. that's it.
Gamer! pt1 pt2
you're the owner of a gaming cafe, and one day a popular streamer shows up.
stealing your husband’s chocolate and finding out it was laced with an aphrodisiac!
[content: MDNI, crack smųt, a very unserious piece of work, piv, hair pulling, use of aphrodisiacs, sukuna’s sour but then he’s sweet]
Never in your life have you been so horny it hurt.
“Kuna, please—harder,” you cry out.
“I’m going as hard as I fucking can, you little slut,” he snaps, each thrust matching every harsh word that gets spat through his teeth. “THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T EAT RANDOM. CHOCOLATE. ON. THE. COUNTER.”
“I’m sorry! Fuck!! I didn’t know!”
“There was a note saying DON’T eat it—you just didn’t give a shit because you’re a thief and a glutton. A liar now, too,” he continues to scold you over the chocolate bar he was going to give to Jin so he’d stop groveling over his ex. It’s been 6 fucking months, he’s tired of having to listen to him go on and on about Kaori. Enough is enough—he needs to go out and sleep with someone.
And now Jin’s never going to shut up. Sukuna doesn’t even want to look at you right now—let alone reward your behavior with dick.
“And now you’re cryin’ like it’s my fuckin’ fault.” It’s him who should be crying right now. “It’s simple: Leave my fucking snacks alone. I always get multiples of each so you’d keep your grubby little hands off them. Why can’t you just be normal and go in my wallet?? Fuck—Arch that back some more.” He cracks his palm over your ass. “Yeah, hike it up nice and high.”
“I can’t!” It feels like it’s about to break with all the weight he’s putting on it! Both of his hands pinning you down, burying every last inch of his cock inside of you.
He scoffs, nudging for you to close your thighs, then planting his knees right next to yours so they stay that way. “Do you want to cum?”
“…yes,” you whimper.
“Then fucking arch it.”
You sniffle. “Okay.”
He breaks character and huffs out a laugh as he watches you continue to helplessly stretch and squelch around him, making a creamy mess all along his shaft. He straightens his back, big hands now firmly grabbing your hips as he picks up the pace.
“Yeahh—stay right there,” his chest rumbles as he lets out a low, drawn-out groan. The smack of his hips growing louder, driving himself right into that little spot that won’t stop screaming for his attention.
It has his attention now.
The new angle had you whining into the pillow, absolutely reeling from how good he was at this, despite his complaints. He knows how to be rough. Nearly lifting you off the bed once he starts pulling your hips back, heavy balls smacking against your sensitive clit as he makes you meet each and every rough thrust he delivers.
“F-fuckk!” you choke out, barely able to form a coherent sentence as you start babbling out a bunch of words.
“So fuckin’ spoiled.” He complains, but just barely. “C’mon brat—you’ve been working me like a fuckin’ dog, give it to me already.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” He doesn’t believe you. You sound like you’re in heaven right now. “Mmhh—I love you so much.” His scowl deepens. “So, so much—you’re so fucking big.“
“Tch.” He grabs a handful of your hair, then yanks you back until you’re up against his chest, lips grazing your ear while muttering in it. “I don’t want an apology. What I want is for you to cum on my fuckin’ cock already. Or should I just stop?”
“No, no don’t! Please! I’m trying, I swear,” you begin to plead with the man.
“Try harder.” Then he smiled, because he felt you squeeze around him. “Jesus Christ—you need to me talk you through it too? The chocolates supposed to make you horny, sweetheart. Not useless.”
“It’s not my fault,” you whimper, and squeeze around him again, pulling a condescending huff out of him.
“You poor thing,” he hums. “Probably spent the whole day waiting for me to come home so I could make you feel better, huh?”
His breath tickles your ear and you nearly moan. “Mhm—I thought about it all day.”
“Well aren’t you sweet,” he mutters, tone as condescending as ever. “You got what you wanted, too. I’ve been taking care of you for a while now. How many times have I cum in you now?”
“I… I don’t know—“
“Of course you fuckin’ don’t.” He cuts you off, unamused by your answer. “Want me to do it again? Fill you up, make you feel all nice and warm?”
“Please.”
“Give me what I want then. If these sheets aren’t soaked by the time I’m about to cum again, I’m pulling out and finishing on your face,” he lets go of your hair and begins to laugh. You don’t get much of a chance to react before you feel the pads of his fingers on your clit, pulling a gasp out of you once he starts rubbing little circles on top of already fucking you. “Heh—let’s see if playing with this cute little clit saves you.”
And he knows you don’t deserve it—any of it, honestly. Unfortunately, he can’t help himself, not with the reactions he gets out of you. He married you for many reasons—getting to spend the rest of his life with a squirter was one of them. The moment your breathing grows labored and you sound like you’re gonna start to cry, his lids grow heavy and he starts saying all the things he told himself he wouldn’t say today.
"Yeahhh, that’s it, baby—fuuuuck—takin’ it so good.” He is fucking gone. Voice thick, filled with nothing but lust and awe as he presses against your lower belly. “C’mon, you want it here, right? Yeah, you know what to do—don’t let some fuckin’ asshole finish on your sweet little face.”
Yes. Your husband just degraded himself. And you just egg him on without meaning to. You were already whining about how it was too much, the incoherent “want it inside,” just made it better worse.
“I will, I’ll give you so fuckin’ much if you just give me one—just one. Easy. Shit—I’ll fill you up as much as you want afterwards.” He doesn’t know what he’s saying, but that doesn’t matter when it’s what has you crying and trembling and finally gushing around his cock.“Yeah, that’s it. That’s it, that’s—fuuuuck yeah. Good job, sweetheart—good fuckin’ job. Fuck.”
Funny enough, he came right after you, which was a relief because that meant his job was done and he was finally able to give his dick a fucking break after hours of feeling like he was working for free, when he had already worked a regular eight hour shift prior. The biggest relief of all was seeing you lie limp in bed, after slightly worrying if you ever actually would.
He leans over you with a smug smile, already having forgotten how much you pissed him off earlier as he moved some hair away from your face. Checking to see if you’re actually asleep or not, then feeling a deep sense of peace when seeing that you are. He presses a kiss against your cheekbone, and in the most loving way hopes you stay that way because he cannot do that again. Then finally, he gets up to use the bathroom.
The peace is only lasts four steps until it’s completely shattered again when he hears your weak voice.
thank u guys for 185 followers that's actually insane considering the fact I just started writing about 4 weeks ago. THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART I LOVE U ALL SOSOSO MUCH!
♡ you're a doctor for regular civilians during the day, but treat criminals by night.
doctor!reader, dangerous!gojo
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"Hold still."
you demand. You just got off a 16-hour shift at the hospital, and you're supposed to be in bed, sleeping like a horse, but the man in front of you insisted, you be the one treating his wounds. You would deny it, but the money is so good. What you make at the hospital doesn't compete with the stack of bills he hands you at the end of each treatment.
His name is Choso. You have no idea what he does, and you don't ask. You don't want to know. He wasn't like this 5 years ago but one day he called you, begging for help. You found him bleeding.
He kept repeating, "no hospital. please. j-just help me here," you guys were the best-est of friends, so of course, you helped him. He wouldn't tell you what he's done, or what he's doing.
He just begged for help.
It became a routine. He called you at an unholy hour, you come to his rescue, patch him up, then go home without a word.
"How've you been?" He tries to initiate conversation, but you shut it down immediately.
"Shut up."
you're cleaning his arm that's drenched in blood, rubbing harshly; not bothering to be gentle. His face that used to be clear and joyful is now filled with scars and a permanent look of dread.
There's no doubt he's in some shady shit.
At first, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. The first time he's asked to get patched up, you told yourself maybe he was far too embarrassed to admit he got his ass kicked, but as time went on, you realized the truth was much darker.
With a pat on his now bandaged arm, you say bye.
Forever.
"Choso. This is the last time I'm doing this for you."
"What? N-no, I need you." he says desperately.
"I can't keep doing this. You won't even tell me how you're getting hurt and I have a job. You know this."
He sits there in silence, looking at you with sad eyes. He knows where you're coming from, but he wouldn't just be losing from his personal doctor, but a long-time friend.
Packing up the to-go medkit you've personalized based on the injuries he usually gets treated for, you then give him one last goodbye. Despite the unfamiliar feeling he gives you now, you can't help but miss him.
Miss the friendship you used to have.
He doesn't beg for you to stay; he lets you go.
~~~
Not for long though.
It's 3:31am, 29 minutes until you're freed from the hellhole they call a hospital. All your patients were assholes, your coworkers were lazy, and you hadn't eaten a bite of food since you clocked in 11 hours ago.
ring ring ring
It's an unknown number. Your brain is so fried from today, you pick it up with no hesitation.
hello?
i-it's Choso. I need your help.
I can't. I'm just getting off work. I need to sleep—
please. This is the last time. I promise I won't ever talk to you again. please.
fine. be there in an hour.
thank you—
You hang up.
Curse your good heart; you won't even have 5 hours of sleep before your next shift.
He doesn't text you the same address he usually sends, he sends a different one that leads to a house?
Last one. You promise yourself.
~~~
Holy fuck, is this house huge. The front garden is the size of your entire house, the driveway is unreasonably huge, and there's about 5 garages you can see just from the outside.
The house is guarded with 2 buff men dressed in suits. They don't address you, so you take the honor.
"Choso sent me."
They press a button on the intercom, another man answers it, but you don't hear what he says. They silently open the large gates; giving you permission to enter the castle house. The house has two massive front doors, and a doorbell that's too well hidden with the overgrown vines.
The door swings open and you look over Choso, but he isn't hurt.
"Choso? You don't seem hurt—"
"It's not me. Please, just come."
He grabs your hand, dragging you around the house. It's empty; only containing a couch and a table that's too small to be in a large living room like this. No decorations, no tv, nothing. It smells stale with a hint of lemon cleaner.
On the third floor, he slams inside a room, leading you to the man who needs your help.
He's barely alive. His eyes are closed and his chest is moving up and down, ever so softly. Your doctor instincts kick in. You rush to his side and check to see if there's a pulse. There is one, but it's so faint, you know he doesn't have much time.
"How long has he been like this?"
You're taking his shirt off to see where the source of blood is coming from. He's groaning as he's being moved around, but that's the least of your worries. He's been stabbed, but the cause of the wound is nowhere to be seen. Multiple slices are seen across his abdomen and his face.
"U-uh just a little over two hours?"
"2 hours? How the fuck is he alive?"
"His other doctor was here but got up and left. I didn't know who else to call. I-I'm sorry—"
You're working on the man for 5 damn hours. He was quite literally on the verge of death.
This room is so similar to the rooms at the hospital you work at. They own all the machines, all the equipment; a mini hospital. You waited two hours to make sure he was stable and when he was, you got up to leave.
"I'm sorry. No one else came to mind, I swear."
Choso gets up with you.
"Don't call me, don't text me, okay? I literally have a shift in an hour; I can't deal with your shady business anymore."
You're exhausted. So exhausted that you're on the verge of crying. Your body is so damn tired. You're overwhelmed to the max, and you still haven't eaten.
Instead of going home, you just park at the hospital and get as much sleep as possible. Calling off is an option, but you'd rather work until your death than stay alone with your thoughts.
In a way, your job that's killing you is also keeping you alive.
You work multiple 16-hour shifts a week hoping it'll lessen the heaviness in your chest and maybe you're delusional, but it helps a little. The distraction you need.
~~~
"Someone's waiting for you out front. I'll take over your patients for now."
Great. A break. A break from your patients that are refusing care. A break from your useless coworkers that are good for nothing.
Pushing through the doors that lead to the waiting room, you see a tall man, dressed too formal to be at a hospital.
"Come with me, miss."
His arms stay crossed in front of his large body. He's not asking, he's telling.
"Who are you?"
"Mr. Gojo requests your presence."
He steps closer to you.
You step back.
"Mr. Gojo? I don't know who that is. I'm in the middle of my shift—"
"That's been taken care of, miss."
"What does that even mean— Look, I have no time for this bullshit. Tell Mr. Gojo, or whatever, to give me a call or something."
Walking away, you think, why can't I get a moment of peace—
A hand lands on your arm, strong and firm. You try ripping your arm away, but he doesn't budge, as if he were made of steel.
"Miss, I won't ask again."
Is everyone blind? Do they not see a large man grabbing onto me? A doctor? That works at this fucking hospital?
But you're quickly corrected once you take a closer look at the expressions everyone in the waiting room has.
They're pretending you're invisible; burying themselves in an irrelevant magazine, their phones, or simply looking down at the floor. But that isn't all, they look scared. Scared of the man who has the tightest grip on your forearm.
"Can I get my fucking things first?"
"Go."
Running to the locker room, you rummage through your bag to find your phone. It rings two times before Choso answers.
hello?
why the fuck is there a man saying a Mr. Gojo is requesting for my presence?
fuck.
what the fuck does that mean?
Mr. Gojo is my boss. The man you helped last night.
What does he want then?
probably to thank you? I-I'm sorry, he didn't mention he would request for you.
How does he know who I am? didn't i tell you to keep your fucking mouth closed?
I just gave him your name. I promise nothing else.
After you hang up, you slam your head against the metal lockers, hoping it'll take you out once and for all, but your head seems to be made out of steel, just like the man who's 20 feet away.
Walking back to the waiting room, the room looks exactly how it did 10 minutes ago. You're guided to a car with tinted windows that you can almost guarantee is illegal. He opens the back door for you, ushering you inside.
The car has a sleek leather interior and looks brand new. It still smells like a brand new car, and you're sure it is. There's a small basket full of snacks, and two water bottles next to it.
You snatch a small bag of chips and scarf it down.
All you wanted was peace but now a Mr. Gojo is "requesting" your presence.
Leaning your head against the uncomfortable headrest, you realize you still don't feel anything, not even fear, just the heaviness in your chest that's been there for years.
Before you know it, you're fast asleep.
~~~
mmmm what a nice pillow...
wait am i not in a car—
you jolt awake.
You're suddenly on a couch, tucked in nicely with a heavy comforter and the softest pillow you're ever felt.
"Morning."
It seems you're in an office. The owner of the voice is sitting prettily on his desk chair, writing away on a piece of paper. He doesn't look up at you.
"Hi? I didn't mean to fall asleep; Mr. Gojo was looking for me?" you say, rubbing your tired eyes.
"Call me Satoru. You're the one who helped me two nights ago, correct?"
Scratching your hair in confusion, "That was last night, right?"
"You were asleep on my couch for 15 hours." He's still flipping through a pile of paperwork, as if sleeping for 15 hours is normal.
"15 hours? I have work—" you exclaim, searching for your phone.
"Taken care of."
"What does that even mean?" you can't lie, you feel well-rested for the first time in a while.
"Look, you helped me two nights ago so it's only fair I do something for you."
He finally tore his gaze away from the paperwork, staring you down. His eyes are such a bright blue, you wonder if they're contacts. His hair is pure white, completely different from the blood-dyed version you saw two nights ago, and despite his near-death experience, it seems it didn't affect him in the slightest.
"I don't want anything. Is this what this bullshit is all about?"
He tilts his head, slightly surprised. He drops his pen, leans back into his expensive chair and crosses his arms.
"Could get anything for you."
"I have everything I need." you bite back.
"Get you a better job?"
"My job is fine."
"I don't like feeling I owe someone." he states.
"Fine. You or one of your dogs can drive me home."
A man who was hiding in the shadows in the office comes out but Mr. Gojo simply brings two fingers up and the man freezes instantly.
What a well-trained pup.
~~~
You were joking when you said he could take you home. Honestly, you thought one of his dogs would be taking you home, but here you are, (in the front seat this time), in a car similar to the one that brought you here.
The roads are empty, truly leaving you alone with the stoic man that's driving you home. He doesn't speak, you don't speak.
Just... quiet.
"Seriously nothing I can do for you?" he breaks the silence.
"This car ride isn't enough for you, Mr. Gojo?" you mock.
"Satoru. And you saved my life; I don't see how that's equal to a 30 minute car ride." he reasons.
"The one thing I want is something you can't give me, Mr. Gojo."
"I can try my best," he offers.
His eyes are off the road and his attention is completely on you.
"Look at the road—"
"Self-drive. Tell me." he quickly says; eager to hear what you want.
You stare at him back, contemplating whether or not you should trauma dump on a man you know you couldn't trust.
"A ride home is more than enough, Mr. Gojo." you sigh.
A moment of silence before he decides to speak again.
"You need me to kill someone for you? I'll do it—"
"Are you fucking insane?" you exclaim.
"What? Is that what you want? Give me a name."
"Is this what you and Choso do? You go out at night and kill whoever you want?"
He pulls into your driveway. The 30 minute drive felt like 15.
"Give me a name."
"I don't want you to kill anyone? Seriously, what is wrong with you people." reaching for the door handle but it doesn't open.
"Let me out."
"Tell me what you want."
"A ride home and look, we're here. wow." you sarcastically say.
"I have time to kill." he points to the clock on his watch.
"Let me out, asshole."
"Thought I was Mr. Gojo?"
"Okay. Fine. I want a million dollars."
You purposefully asked for a crazy amount of money, but it backfires. The door clicks open and you open it hurriedly.
Looking back at Mr. Gojo, you say, "I was kidding about the money. Don't send me shit, okay?"
He dismisses you with two fingers, like he did with his dog earlier.
You walk inside, slump on your couch and continue to sleep until the next morning.
~~~
This morning you felt like a new person. You finally slept more than enough, ate a hearty breakfast, and your favorite scrubs were clean and ready for you to wear them.
Humming a random song, you're locking your front door with a smile.
"WHAT THE FUCK— Why are you back?" you jump, clutching your chest. The same man who was at the hospital is back; now standing in your front yard.
He quietly hands you an envelope and walks back to his fancy car.
Opening the envelope, you see a check for a million dollars from Gojo Satoru.
"Hey— Wait, give this back to him, I was joking." jogging to the window of the driver's seat, knocking on it repeatedly to gain the attention of the man.
Rolling the window down he says, "It's from Mr. Gojo, miss."
"No shit. Give this back to him. Now." you demand.
"Sorry miss, no can do." and with that, he drives away, leaving you on the road with a million dollars in your hand.
Your morning day is ruined. Now you have to go back to that mansion after your shift and return this blood money.
~~~
"I need to see Mr. Gojo. It's urgent."
"Sorry miss, you weren't invited." he dismisses.
You're going back and forth with the same men that were here last night. For some reason, you need an invitation to see Mr. Gojo. What kind of bullshit is that? It's been 15-minutes, and they're still not budging.
"Let her in."
A voice comes through the intercom, interrupting the lovely conversation you were having with these men.
It's like Mr. Gojo was their God; the way they listened immediately was chilling.
~~~
You're knocking on the office door, but you don't wait for a "come in", you barge in. And there he was, sitting on his office chair, still buried in paperwork.
"Yes?"
"Take this back." you slam the envelope on his desk.
"Isn't this what you wanted? A million dollars?"
"I was kidding. I only wanted to get out of that damn car."
He finally looks up to you, sending you chills with his stare.
"I don't enjoy the feeling of owing someone. Though, I told you this, dear."
"Don't call me that. I just want some peace and quiet, is that such a crazy request?"
"So take the money. Move to a quiet place where no one can bother you. You can retire right here, right now." he reasons.
"I can't."
"A million isn't enough? Here—"
"NO. I don't need your money, I make more than enough on my own. Take it back and we can go our separate ways. Okay?"
You're taking long strides to the front door, but he stops you.
"It'll be back on your front door before you make it back home. Tonight."
"What is your issue? I'm telling you that you don't owe me shit. I'm a doctor because I love helping people; I don't need to be paid with blood money."
your voice raises to a volume that's close to yelling. He stands up and walks up to you; too close.
"Take it. I don't give a shit what you do with it, okay? Go back home, work until you die and forget about this."
As he speaks, you can feel his breath dance along your lips.
"If I take it, you'll leave me alone?"
"Correct."
You should've known he was a liar.
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A/N; guys I promise I'll finish this series HAHAHA
you were attempting a pasta recipe you've seen on TikTok but had forgotten the pot of boiling noodles in the first place; causing the water to evaporate then leaving your noodles to burn.
Smoke filled your apartment; your lungs burn from the second-hand smoke you inhale, and the blaring sounds of your smoke detector pierce through your eardrums. You're swinging a small towel in front of the detector, in hopes of turning the damn thing off.
bang bang bang
Your door swings open and reveals a tall gentleman, prepared to take down a fire.
Too bad for him, there's no fire.
Good news for you though. He's cute. Wait, no. Hot. No pun intended, of course.
Despite the heavy gear he has on, you can tell he was well built, but his face is what caught your eye. His eyes are dark, he has massive eyebags, and his skin is as pale as a vampire.
He runs inside your apartment, looking around to see where the smoke is coming from, but when he notices there's no sight of fire, he looks at you in confusion.
"Ma'am? Are you okay?" He takes off the protective helmet and looks in your direction; speaking to you but still evaluating your apartment.
"Yeah, j-just some smoke. I forgot I was cooking so, ya know." You admit sheepishly, as if a firefighter would relate to almost burning down a house. From cooking.
He proceeded to open all the windows, making all the smoke disappear within 15 minutes.
Everyone knew firefighters were attractive but this one? God.
His jawline is sharp, and he's concentrated on getting the smoke out while you ogle him like an eagle hunting for her dinner. His long hair was freed from his helmet; it felt like his hair was bragging about how long and gorgeous it is compared to your dry, short hair.
"Alright Ma'am, everything seems to be okay so, I'll be heading out—"
"Can I have your number, sir?"
"Sure. Give me your phone." He's adjusting the huge helmet back on his head while you ruffle in your pockets, searching for your phone. You hand him your phone eagerly, watching him put his number in.
You should've known he only typed 3 numbers.
You watch him give a polite smile as he walks out. You're geeked out, thinking you scored a hot fireman, but you look down at the number he's inputted and you see 911.
#fairs.
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A/N; @eijirosgoodgirl thank u for this idea, I can almost guarantee this isn't what u wanted HAHAHAHAHAH. I wanted to write a small fun fic before making an actual long firefighter!choso fic. also, idk how firefighters work. just don't think about the fact that he just popped up, ill have that figured out when i make the long one LMAAOO
As soon as those words left Satoru's mouth, you felt your heart being ripped out of your chest. You see his girlfriend hiding behind him, as if you were someone to be scared of.
"Oh. O-oh! Nice to meet you, Utahime!"
Your lips show a big, happy smile, but your eyes are filled with sadness.
You knew Satoru since high school. You two are now in your third year of university; completely different majors but you still managed to make time for each other.
You knew you liked Satoru for years, but you cherished your friendship so much, you didn't want to risk it. You admired him when he looked away, you thought of him every second of the day, you fell asleep envisioning his smile, and you dreamt of him every night.
You were third-wheeling the love of your live. You watched her spoon feed him, watched her look at him with the same love you held in your eyes, and giggle at jokes he stole from you.
You were practically invisible; they were so engrossed in each other; you might as well go home. So, you did exactly that. You came up with a bullshit excuse, saying you weren't feeling well.
Usually he would jump up, ask you what's wrong, but he stays glued on his seat. He simply dismisses you with a, "See you later."
You get home, curl up in your sheets, then call your best-friend, Shoko.
Shoko, you sniffle. he has a girlfriend.
you can hear her get up, ruffling in her sheets as she does so.
Gojo? W-what? Who?
Her name is Utahime. I-I want to hate her but God, she's sweet.
I'm sorry, honey. Is there anything I can do for you?
You stay on the phone with her for 4 hours, then eventually fall asleep with your tear-stained face.
You hate how you still fell asleep with his face smiling at you.
It wasn't hard to ignore him since you had quite the opposite major. He's called you, texted you, asking if you were free to get lunch but of course, you decline.
There's no way you could be alone with the love of your life. It would be unfair to his girlfriend, knowing you had feelings for her boyfriend.
You don't wanna be a homewrecker.
That's one thing you knew for sure.
You buried yourself in medical textbooks, studying topics you already knew everything about. You went to bed at 8pm every night, even though you were a night owl, and if the thought of him somehow went past your distractions, you lifted like a man on steroids at the campus gym.
Truly doing everything in your power to forget about him.
You're at the gym for the 8th time this week, doing some bullshit exercise that guarantees an injury.
Gulping down some water from your 60oz jug when you see Satoru walk in, as if he was looking for someone urgently. He clearly isn't dressed for the gym; he's wearing jeans and a hoodie.
You get back to your workout, (if you could call it that), but you don't get to your 3rd rep because you feel someone tapping your shoulder rapidly.
"Satoru?"
"Can I talk to you? Please? Outside?"
"U-uh sure? Is everything alright—"
he's dragging you out of the gym, not bothering to grab your giant water bottle. You're hit with the cool, winter breeze instantly, giving you chills.
"I broke up with Utahime."
"Oh no. I'm so sorry, Satoru. Is there anything I can do for you—"
"I love you."
...
...
...
"What?" it feels as if someone dumped a bucket filled with freezing water all over you.
"I'm in love with you. I've been for years. I-I thought getting a girlfriend would help me forget about you but it's impossible to forget. It's impossible to forget someone as amazing as you. I think of you when I breathe, eat, study, hell, even when I fall asleep. It's always been you. Always."
He's staring at you like you're the only girl in the world, and to him, you are. He's waiting patiently for you to say something, anything. But you're frozen, unable to process his confession.
Without a word, he walks away.
"I-I love you too. I was so upset when I saw her. That's why I've been avoiding you." you stammer.
He's still not looking at you; his back facing you instead.
"I think about you so much, it's unhealthy." you admit.
He swings his body then crashes his lips onto yours. It's perfect; everything you dreamt of. His body fits perfectly with yours, and you feel complete.
─────────────────────────────────
if he has a girlbestfriend IM OUT!!! if thats insecure idc sorry
"Babe, 'm going out with my friends tonight. Gotta head home now."
You lay on your boyfriend's chest, while an irrelevant movie plays in the background. He clutches you tighter against his chest, telling you he doesn't want you to leave.
You've only been together for 5 months, but you've already felt closer than ever. You talked about marriage, what type of house you wanted to live in, how many kids you wanted, and if you wanted any pets. He told you he could get you all of that by 5pm, but you wanted to wait a little longer since you two were so young.
He was perfect. He took you to places you never knew existed, bought you pretty things, he listened, and most importantly, he was gentle. After your last boyfriend left you broken, Satoru promised to treat you like a queen, and so far, he has.
He was super secretive about certain things; his job especially was top secret. You've asked endlessly, as he's the man you plan to marry, but he says, "not to worry about it". So, you listen.
"Not yet." he murmurs against your shoulder blade; slightly muffled. You playfully attempt to escape his grasp, but he's too strong.
"Satoru, seriously." he finally sets you free, watching you briskly pack your things, preparing to leave his enormous house. You feel the cold marble floor against your feet, and your footsteps echoing through the empty house.
Satoru reaches you in two swift movements, twisting you around, turning your body to face him.
"Who's gonna' be there?" he rasped, staring you down. He's scary like this, but you think it's cute he's so protective over you.
"Hmmm..." you pretend to think; you know exactly who's going to be there, "Megan, Taylor, Bri, oh! and this new guy, Dylan. The girls say he's really nice so they're bringing him—"
"A guy?" he repeats, his tone deadly.
"Mhm! They met him at the bar—"
"You're not going."
You break out in a smile, thinking he's joking. When your eyes meet his face, it's clear he isn't. You skip away from his arms, gliding down the stairs; dismissing his words. You don't get far before you're facing him again.
"You're. not. going." he emphasizes every word, as if it'll magically make you surrender to him.
"You're being ridiculous, babe. It's one night and I'll come right back to you." you reassure him, rubbing your hand up and down his chest.
He thinks for a moment.
"Let me come with you then." he demands.
How are you going to tell him that none of your friends like him? They think he's scary, cold and rude; you couldn't deny it, so you stopped bringing him around.
"Satoru, I've been in your house for the last 2 weeks, I think it'll be nice to take a break." you're still rubbing your hand against his chest, but you knew that was the wrong thing to say when you feel his body go still.
"A break? From me?"
"A break from each other, honey. I really want to see my friends."
"No."
You reach for the front door, but he blocks you with his large frame.
"You're being weird. I'm going whether you like it or not, okay?" you're beginning to feel frustrated with him, you loved when he was overprotective, but right now it's suffocating you.
"I'm coming back, okay? I'm all yours when I come back." You reach over to his face on your tip toes and plant a soft kiss on his nose and lips. His body is frozen, but you take your chance to exit the mansion.
~~~
"HIIII!!"
All three girls run up to you, embracing you tightly. The restaurant is overfilled with drunken adults, its dim, and there's music playing softly in the back.
They drag you to a booth in the back, but there's no Dylan.
"Dylan's not here?"
"He said he was on the way an hour ago, but he stopped responding." Megan explains. You were slightly happy he isn't here; Satoru would be glad to know it was just you and the girls.
You three somehow ended up in a karaoke room, drunken laughter surrounds the room when nothings funny, and you're singing the words to a song you don't know. The night ends when they take an uber home.
You're sitting on the curb, waiting for your boyfriend to pick you up. You sent a text just now, so he should be here in 20 minutes—
beep beep
"Baby!!" you beam.
He quickly steps out of his car, swiftly picks you up as if you weigh nothing, then settles you in the passenger seat. While he buckles you in, you stare at him lovingly.
"I love you." you whisper. The first time those words were spoken between the two of you.
"What?" he whispers.
"I love you. You don't gotta' say it back—"
He kisses you passionately, holding your face with one hand, "I love you too. so, so much."
"Kay. Take me homeee." you slur into his lips.
He does exactly what you've asked. The 20-minute drive home turned to a 10-minute trip; his excitement showing through his speedometer.
He couldn't believe you love him.
Since you loved him, you'll understand you forced his hand. Right?
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
a/n; a little something to get the ball rolling again. ENJOY!!!
anything by septembersummer on a03 is peak. go read her works IMMEDIATELY! i read violet lights in 2021 for the first time and it woke something up inside me.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ you're the most influential girl on campus, so why does a girl like her interest you so much?
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ popular!reader, fem!reader, loser!shoko
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊⊱·✶·⊰₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
“Her? I don’t know, she’s part of that group of weirdos.” Your friend Utahime says while she’s puts on another layer of glittery lip-gloss. You’re sitting on a bench right outside the university doors, looking pretty while you blatantly stare strangers down.
“Why do you ask?” she wonders. Her full attention is on the compact mirror she brings to school every day.
“Huh? oh, no reason.” you mumble.
You finished touching up your makeup minutes ago, so you decide to watch people. The girl you asked about isn’t too far. She's passing around a cigarette you know isn’t allowed on campus grounds, her hair messily put up in a ponytail and her outfit plain and boring; total opposite from yours.
You can’t hide the disgust written on your face at the sight of a cigarette. The smell alone makes you sick. You can only assume their age is close to yours, but you’ll definitely live longer due to the poison they inhale.
And they’re sharing one? Ew.
She’s sharing it with two other guys. A white-haired one and a long-haired one; looks like she’s third-wheeling though. She has a nonchalant expression while she watches the love-birds playfully slap each other.
“Kinda hungry. Cafeteria?” you offer with a knowing grin. She perks up at the suggestion of food, shoves her makeup in her bag and stands up with an excited look on her face. You stand up and walk to the packed lunchroom with your arm linked with hers.
The line is long, but it doesn’t affect you of course, you see the rest of your friends in the front and skip the long queue. No one tries to stop you because you would only send a disgusted glare.
The food they serve here is disgusting. I mean, for the amount you pay every year should mean you get something other than microwavable spaghetti, right? No hate to the ladies working up front though, they were the sweetest to you and your friends.
You’d rather die a painful death than eat the food here, so you settle for a green apple that sits on top of a basket that overflows with a variety of fruits. Your friends love spaghetti, so you wait patiently for them to finish up.
“Can they please serve something other than spaghetti? Like—” Utahime doesn’t get to finish her whining since a large tray filled with spaghetti is splashed all over you. You look down and gasp; it got all over your shirt that cost more than anyone could imagine and it’s white.
Great. Just great.
“Are you stupid? Watch where you’re going, loser!” Your other friend, Yuki defends you without missing a beat while the other girls try to wipe the sauce off of you, but it’s no use, the shirt is ruined.
“Seriously—” You look up, ready to yell, but it’s her. The girl you were spying on moments prior.
She looks at you apologetically with her big, pretty, brown eyes. Her mouth is moving but you’re not hearing a damn thing. She has eyebags the size of the moon and has a small mole under her right eye. Her skin is clear and her lips are naturally pink and plump.
She reeks of cigarettes, a smell you couldn’t tolerate but would it be crazy to say it suits her?
She’s pretty. That’s for sure.
Before you can say it’s okay, your friends are dragging you out of the cafeteria. Their movements are perfectly calculated so none of the mess lands on their outfits. You immediately strip when you step foot in the bathroom, taking off your ruined outfit; you look at it sadly before tossing it in the trash.
I just bought it, too. You thought.
A fresh set of clothes are thrown in your face without having to ask. It’s just a mini skirt with a simple backless top, but you’ll take it happily.
“How stupid can people be?! Are they fucking blind?” Yuki exclaims and the other girls hum in agreement. The room falls into a comfortable silence which can only mean they’re reapplying their lipgloss or retouching makeup.
You can’t help but think about her. You have no idea what her name is or who she is, but she’s... interesting.
After settling in the new outfit, adjusting it to your liking, you lean over the sink and redo your lip-combo. You’re grateful none of it landed on your face since you just re-did it.
“Wait, who’s down to skip class? I need a new outfit for the party tomorrow.” Miwa asks suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows up and down.
Right. There’s a party tomorrow. A party you’re hosting. You always threw the parties, and they were always the best. Not to sound narcissistic but no one’s doing it like you. Your parents were never home and their lack of interest in their only daughter was the cherry on top. Your neighbors are never there to file noise complaints, but even if they were home, the police would look the other way with a simple call from your father.
“I wish I could go with you guys, but you know how my mother gets.”
Your mother liked pretending she cared by being strict with your studies. The only reason you’re attending university is simply because you were bored. You’re set for life, maybe for your next one too but with your spending habits? Everyone doubts it.
The last time you skipped a lecture, she locked your credit card for a month. A month with no money because of one lousy class. You look down to your phone and you have about 5 minutes to get to class.
You blow a kiss to your girlfriends while telling them to buy anything they thought you’d like, and with that, you walk to your final class of the week with your head held high and a confident stride.
This class was filled with unfamiliar faces since your friends are having fun at the mall, so you sit all the way in the back, hoping your professor doesn’t notice you falling asleep. You notice the two lovebirds walk in, too close to be regular friends. The white-haired one spots you, then glares at you. His sidekick notices the venom in his eyes so he physically has to move his face, breaking our staring contest.
What’s his problem?
“Alright, class.” Your professor claps his hands that haven't touched lotion ever since his wife left him, “turn to page 569.” he continues.
Right. Turn to page 569 on a book you didn’t bring.
Sigh. Another hour of pretending you give a damn. You tried to drop out, believe me, but your mother said “finish what you started”. Whatever that means.
Thankfully, it finishes with a blink of an eye as your mind is preoccupied with party plans. You skip out of class with a happy shine in your eyes.
Hmm. Should I make jello shots—
“Hey.”
It’s her, wearing the same apologetic expression as earlier.
“Hi?” you reply with your eyebrow quirked up.
“I wanted to apologize again for earlier. I-I can pay for the damages?” She stammers.
“HA— oh, you’re serious?” Your arms are crossed while you look at her nervous frame. She isn’t looking at you anymore, it seems the floor is far more interesting than you.
“No need. I already threw the shirt away. Thanks for apologizing though.”
She walks away with her shoulders seeming less tense than before, but she doesn’t get that far before you start talking again.
“WAIT. You know how you can make it up to me? Come to my party tomorrow night, bring whoever you want.”
You can see her body shiver in anxiety as soon you utter the word party. It’s obviously not her scene, but she owes you.
“Can I just pay you back for the shirt?” She reaches for her sweatpant pocket.
“10k.”
“T-ten thousand?” Her jaw drops. Did she expect you to be wearing anything cheaper than that?
“Mhm. Not including my skirt and I think I got some on my shoes, so let’s say…” You bring your pointer finger to your chin, pretending you have to think hard about the number you’re going to choose, “25k? flat.” you continue.
Her mouth remains open in disbelief.
“Wait, that shirt was limited edition, soooo 30k—”
“OKAY. Okay. I’ll go to your party.” Her voice filled with defeat. Does she hate parties that much?
“You stay there for an hour minimum.”
“An hour max.” She’s quick to argue but she doesn’t have the right, does she?
“How much did I say? 30k—”
“FINE.” Her defeated tone is back. You win.
You reach inside your tote bag and grab one of the 20 lipliners inside. You snatch her arm into your hand and write down your number with a smiley face.
“If I don’t see you there, I’ll send the invoice, ‘mkay?”
You skip away with a sense of accomplishment. Party preparations start as soon as you get home.
~~~
It’s Saturday night morning, it’s 1:42am but the party has just started. Your house is filled with people you know, some you don’t but you couldn’t care less. You’re drunk. You pre-gamed a little too hard with your girls but that’s what makes it fun, no?
There are tables scattered around your living room, with so much alcohol sitting on top. You’re dancing your ass off to the booming music. The DJ you hired is playing the playlist you and your friends curated to match the exact vibe you pictured for tonight. The playlist is filled with 2000’s hits; just the way you like it.
Your body is slick with sweat, even though you’re dressed in the shortest skirt and the sluttiest top you own. There’s drunk people everywhere. In your pool, upstairs, in the kitchen, and there’s probably people fucking in your large bathrooms. You only ask them to clean after themselves.
But she’s not here. And you would know since your eyes always lead back to the front door. You texted her the address, the time and that she can bring whoever she wants. She doesn’t respond but there’s no way she’d rather pay you 30k. Right?
Speaking of the devil.
You see the white-haired one first. He’s wearing baggy jeans and a black tank top that shows his muscular body well. His boyfriend clings onto him tightly, wearing the same expression as the girl you’ve been waiting for.
You stumble to them, with a wide grin but they aren’t reciprocating the happiness on your face.
“Hey! You guys made it. Come, come.” You guide them through the bodies of drunken college students, and you soon make it to the kitchen. It’s a lot quieter than the open areas. There’s a couple making out so you kick them out with a simple, “out.”
“Hmmm what do you guys like to drink? I can make some drinks too!” you cheer.
You’re looking at the wide selection of drinks while they look at each other in confusion.
The black-haired one speaks first, “U-uh shots? Anything is fine.”
The obvious choice is pink whitney, your favorite. You pour out 4 shot glasses filled to the brim with the pink liquid, one for you, duh. You hand them to the awkward trio. You take the shot quickly with no reaction while they still look confused.
To your surprise, she downs it first. The other two soon follow with a shiver that tells you they don’t drink.
The quiet kitchen is soon filled with chatter. You learn the black-haired one is Suguru, the white-haired one is Satoru and the girl’s name is Shoko. As you talk, you pour shots and they take it gladly; the liquor easing their anxiety.
30 minutes later and you’re on the dance floor, acting a fool with Satoru. Somehow he throws ass better than you. Suguru is laughing at his boyfriend but his body soon moves to the beat as well.
Shoko is sitting on a stool, staring at her friends with a fond smile. You hated seeing people sitting at your parties. If they aren’t dancing, you’ve done something wrong. You grab her wrist, pulling her into you. She tries to resist but your grip is weirdly strong.
You turn your body around, your back against her chest, then place her hands on your waist. You move your hips against hers. It doesn’t take long before her hips move with yours. You throw your head back onto her shoulder, looking into her pretty eyes that are glowing under the disco ball lights. She’s looking down at you, but you can’t read her.
Her hands are so cold on your sweaty body. Her hands roam your body, making you shiver under her touch. You’ve been touched like this by more people you can count on your fingers but it’s different this time. She touches you gently, as if you were a piece of glass.
She’s touching you so sensually that you feel you have to say something to her.
“A-are you having fun?” You slur. Alcohol affects you heavily, especially if it was pink whitney.
“Just glad I don’t have to pay you 30k.”
You laugh in her face, did she think you were actually gonna charge her 30k?
“I wasn’t actually gonna make you pay me 30k. Or any money for that matter.” you laugh at her confused look, “Jus’ wanted you to come to one of my parties.”
It feels like it’s just the two of you in the room; just looking at each other in anticipation.
“Well, I’m glad I came.” She murmurs in your ear while she sways you to the beat. Her low, raspy voice makes you warm and fuzzy inside.
She leans in with her eyes closed and you do the same, but you’re snatched away by Utahime, because the song that’s playing is “our song”. You’re being dragged away while you stare at Shoko with lust in your eyes.
You almost slap Utahime in frustration because you wanted to feel Shoko’s lips against yours. Is she a good kisser? Would she let you touch her? You wanted to make her feel good, you can only hope she felt the same.
The rest of the night is a blur.
You’re awoken by bright lights. You hear multiple vacuums being used around your house. It’s 2pm so that means your cleaners are here; cleaning the entire house, top to bottom. You groan and try to make out the words, “Good afternoon,” to one of the ladies sweeping the living room floor you were sleeping on, but your throat is so dry, it’s impossible.
She quickly hands you a glass of water she knew you were going to need. You give a grateful smile and chug it; the same way you were chugging pink whitney last night.
“Good morning, ma'am. We’re just finishing up.”
“Thank you! Oh— wait here.” You almost fell with how fast you were trying to get up. Your head is pounding but it would only take a couple minutes to get your wallet. You reach inside your wallet and grab a wad of hundred-dollar bills. You pull whatever’s left, run back to her then hand it.
“This is too much, sweetie—” She doesn’t accept it at first but you always find a way to make her take it. This happens every week; becoming a routine.
“Seriously. Take it. I’m sure it was messier than usual. Please?” You plead, mustering up the best pout you could come up with, along with puppy eyes.
Please just take it so I can sleep. you beg mentally.
As soon as she takes it, you run upstairs to your room so you can pass out once again. On your nightstand lay some Advil and three bottles of water. Angels, really. You proceed to sleep until the next day.
~~~
It’s Monday and you’re laughing with Yuki and Miwa as you walk inside class; you’re laughing at all the embarrassing moments that took place on Saturday night. Of course you don’t forget the moment you shared with Shoko, but that’s something you wanted to keep for yourself.
You see Satoru and Suguru laughing. You tell Yuki and Miwa to save you a seat and you’ll be back.
“Was the hangover bad?” You already knew the answer; no one escapes Pink Whitney's wrath.
“Oh, God it was terrible. I’m never drinking again.” Satoru complains. Suguru agrees with an eager nod.
“Awww”, you pout, “but I’m hosting another one this Saturday?”
Suguru looks at you with an excited look, but replaces it with a fake, sad one, “Fine. Since you’re begging us to go.”
“So, uh. How’s Shoko? Is she okay? Was her hangover bad? I mean probably, right? She drank a lot haha.” you ramble, totally embarrassing yourself in front of your new friends. You subconsciously fiddle with your totebag charms. She hasn’t texted you and you were never the type to text first.
“She’s fine?” Satoru looks at you suspiciously, “Did something happen?” he asks.
“No! no, nothing happened. I-I’ll see you guys around? I’ll send the details, okay? Okay, bye.”
You don’t wait for a response, you book it towards Yuki and Miwa. Your cheeks are flushed red.
Way to make it subtle! Good job.
~~~
Shoko’s ignoring you. Blatantly ignoring you. She had to be the first person to ignore you. You’ve spammed her phone with texts asking what you’ve done wrong, but her only response was, “I’m just busy. Sorry.”
You’ve never been this frustrated before. Never. The universe isn’t on your side either, making sure you never get the chance to talk to her. What’s gotten into you? You've never chased anyone like this, ever. You feel desperate to get an ounce of attention from her.
Lucky for you, it’s Saturday night. You told Satoru to make sure Shoko comes or he’s not touching your bottles of pink whitney. You made sure you looked amazing, so amazing she won’t have a choice but to talk to you.
You’ve never been more wrong in your life. She looked everywhere but you. She’s hiding behind Satoru and Suguru, taking turns using them as shields. She slips away from you, right as you get her attention. You’re eager to get Suguru and Satoru drunk; handing them shots of the strongest liquor you have, waiting. Waiting for them to go away so you can have Shoko all to yourself.
You drag Satoru and Suguru to the dance floor, making them dance before slipping away to find Shoko.
It’s not hard to spot her. It’s like she’s the only one you notice now.
“Why are you ignoring me?” You demand, arms crossed. You’re so angry, you swore you felt smoke coming out of your ears.
“What? I-I can’t hear you.” You both know damn well she can hear you loud and clear. But if she wants to play that way, sure, you can play that way too.
You grab her wrist and drag her upstairs to your room. You swing her to the front, she’s left standing awkwardly in your room, then you lock the doors.
“Talk.”
“I’ve just been busy. I told you that—”
“Just tell me you didn’t want to kiss me that night.”
“What?”
“Tell me so I can leave you alone, okay? I’m chasing you around campus like a dog—”
She roughly grabs your face and kisses you eagerly. You don’t waste any time before you kiss her back. It’s sloppy and messy, everything you dreamt of ever since you’ve spotted her. Your tongue is exploring her mouth, making sure she can feel how much you wanted her. You quickly learn that she has a tongue piercing, the way it feels against your tongue makes you drenched.
Her hand is tangled up in your hair, the hair you styled perfectly for her, only for her. Her mouth moves slowly down to your throat, planting light but wet kisses.
“A-ah w-wait.” you moan out. She immediately stops and looks down at you. Her lips are bright red, her eyes are hungry and her hair looks similar to yours; messy.
“Why were you ignoring me?” you question.
“I was embarrassed.” She looks down but you grab her chin, forcing her to look at you. “I didn’t even know you wanting me was a possibility so I ran away.”
“Do you even know how that made me feel? I-I felt like I did something wrong.”
She pecks your lips softly, “I’m sorry, baby. C-can I make it up to you?” She pleads. You nod and she immediately gets to work.
She backs you up against your bed, making you fall on your made bed. She’s on top of you with one knee between your thighs, rubbing against your clothed pussy. You’re moaning against her lips, her hands move to your tits, making sure nothing of yours gets left out.
“I-I’m so sorry, my love.”
She’s apologizing as she plants kisses down your body.
“Don’t do it a-again, okay?” you stutter, trying to see how much power you have left here.
She takes your skirt off with ease, treating it with respect knowing how much your clothes cost. She spreads your legs wide open, revealing your cute panties you picked out for today. There’s an obvious wet mark, but Shoko pays it no mind.
She begins to lick your pussy through your thin panties, somehow feeling more intimate than if you had no panties on. She’s making out with your clit through the cloth. Her tongue piercing added onto the intense wave of pleasure.
One hand stays on your left breast, swiping her thumb left and right on your nipple. Her other hand is on your thigh, making sure you stay nice and open for her.
“I-I’m gonna come, Shoko, w-wait.” You try pushing her off so you can savor the feeling of her mouth on you but she doesn’t let up, her hand stays firm on your thigh, making sure you take it.
You come all over her, your legs are shaking while you moan her name loudly. She gives you a few more licks before looking up at you in admiration.
“T-thank you, my love.” You don’t know what she’s thanking you for, but it doesn’t matter.
She just gave you the best orgasm you’ve ever had.
You thought she was done, but apparently not. She slides your panties off and sees your bare pussy for the first time. She stares at it for a moment, making you a little insecure.
“Uh, everything okay?” your voice is small, hoping nothing’s wrong.
She leans in closer to your pussy then blows lightly on it, sending chills to your spine. She doesn’t give you time to recover from your first orgasm, she gets back to work. Both of her hands focus down there. Her tongue focuses on your clit, making sure you feel the cool metal of her piercing.
Her right hand teases your hole then slowly eases one finger inside, warming you up. Her mouth starts sucking on your clit, quickly adapting to the pace that makes you react the most. She hums slightly, sending vibrations through you.
“S-so good, baby.” she moans.
Your hands grab her hair, it hurts her but she doesn’t stop you, she takes it as a compliment.
“S-shoko… please.”
“I’m so sorry, honey. P-please forgive me.” She’s rambling now.
“It’s o-okay, you won’t do it again, right?” you cry.
“Y-yeah, I promise you. Never, ever again.”
She slips in another finger, then another, sending you over the edge. Her mouth moves quicker and quicker, she wants you to come again, right now. You’re so wet, it makes it easy to thrust three fingers, in and out.
Her fingers move in a pace that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.
Before you know it, you’re coming again. She slurps you up, making sure none of you goes to waste. Your legs are quaking, there’s tears running down your face and she continues to lick you up, riding out your high.
She would’ve made you come again and again but you’re out cold. You’re sound asleep against your expensive sheets.
Shoko smiles at you and mentally promises to never let you go ever again.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊⊱·✶·⊰₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
a/n; thank you @misheruui for the request, i had sm fun making this!!<3
credits to @/thisuserisnice on twitter for the art used in the header!!
