#sub male reader

University has been very difficult for you, hectic even, though not necessarily through academics, you've been a consistent honor student back in your home land, always joining some extra-curriculum activities, organizations and even climbing to the higher ranks, medals hanged heavily at your neck, gold and silver. though maybe it's just you're still adapting to your new environment.

It's not like your parents pressured you to be that way, to be an academic weapon, in fact they are very supportive, asking how your day went, they even ask to help you with your homework, and you merely gave them a look, like they've spilled your matcha latte in your chem textbooks, one might say that you're studious, intellectual, more likely a nerd in their lame and miniscule minds.

Well who could blame them? It's not like they pay your bills for you to care enough.

Glancing at your phone, 2:03 am, your message box was empty, it always had been empty, it's either your professor asking you for the class itinerary or the delivery guy who always asks for a tip every time you order chinese takeout on a friday night.

Surprisingly enough, you got a few friends to rely on even with your individualist syndrome, your message box might be empty but your curated ig account isn't, like your own little museum, you never showed your appearance but people assumed that you're quite attractive because of your style. They often see your friends, Yuji, Nobara and Megumi, they're sophomores while you're a junior, it is your third year in college, so just one year gap, but they insist on calling you their own old man.

You were a sophomore when you got into your dorm, you never had a roommate, well more likely because there's a rumored ghost haunting the hallways and bathrooms, It's not like you don't believe in ghosts, you actually like watching paranormal documentaries after the exams, but it's because you like the peaceful and quiet nights when you can study unbothered, doing the chores on your own accord, cooking meals with no one to share with.

It might seem lonely to be by yourself, but at least you got your cat, no?

You flinched, as you felt a furry and fluffy creature snuggled against your foot.

“Kiki. . are you hungry?”

You asked the white furball reaching for it, your hands slipping under its short arms, putting kiki on your lap and scratching its head and chin, it mewled softly leaning to your touch.

“I guess you are. . .”

-

You hated calculus, no, you loathed it.

Let's just say that mathematics wasn't your strong suit. . . You literally just crawled your way in to pass that subject, you even tried to avoid it but it was inevitable, you never had a blink of sleep when you tried to study Multivariable calculus, and all of that shit show, your eyes almost bulged out of your skull sockets and it's already the fourth can of coffee you've inhaled.

You'd rather memorize all parts of every single organ in your body and its functions than adding, subtracting two vectors.

-

Now at some cafe.

“[Name], are you still breathing. . ?” Nobara asked in half concern while putting on her lip-gloss.

“Doubt it! I mean just look at him he looks like he just went to his own funeral!!” Yuji grimaced as he tried to shake you for your soul to somehow wake up again.

“Well aren't you harsh?” Megumi sat down next to you, with a matcha latte on his hand, sliding it in front of you.

“I'm actually cooked.” You then gently grasp Yuji's hands gripping your shoulders and pulling it off you with a forlorn look on your face.

“Cooked? Babe, you're charred at this point, you can't just keep avoiding your core subject y'know? It's a general education requirement, what if you can't graduate because of it.” Nobara deadpanned, her words stung but it was facts.

“You're talking as if you didn't fail general mathematics in highschool, consecutively. ” You bantered as you felt a hand, fingers with acrylics on it, gripping your scalp, ouch.

“HOW DARE—?! I'm just concerned about you and that's what you're going to repay me?” Nobara spouted while she continues to torture you.

“How about you get a tutor, [Name]?” Yuji meekly suggested, while he takes a little sip of your matcha latte.

“[Name]'s pride is higher than the mount everest itself, y'know, he can't just stumble on faculty and inquire for a tutor that's just crazy—” Megumi scoffed, not until you actually consider it.

“Yuji. . .that's actually smart of you.” You gave your friend a small grin as you ruffled his soft pink locks.

“WAAH.. [Name] complimented me! It's a miracle—”

“Ugh. enough of this studying shit already, sem-break is actually coming how about we actually do something fun, and you! why don't you come with us just this once? You've done nothing but to rot inside of your dorm!” Nobara irked as she pulled her brown strands in distress, pointing at you.

“Why would I? Y'know I don't like socializing..” You grumbled leaning down to sip on your matcha latte.

“Oh for god's sake! It's Halloween you dumbass and we're having a party, I hope that calculus notebooks of yours haunt you.” Nobara rolled her eyes to sass, jested as she checked her phone if her costume is arriving on 29th.

You choked on your drink, and your friends just snickered at you. What a lovely friends you have.

-

His ocean-blue eyes glimmered behind the black frames he was wearing, he eyes then glanced to his wrist, pulling the white sleeves of his button up, revealing a silver rolex, 6:09 pm.

The library has always been empty and quiet, not because it was in the rules to be quiet, but because people rarely come there to study, most of them just borrow books and go on their merry way to go back to their dorms or home.

Gojo Satoru liked the vibes of this particular library mainly because the books here are more scholarly and detailed, just his type, the smell of coffee and old paper, vellichor is what would he call. And especially because this library is fully air-conditioned and it has free wifi if you kindly ask the elderly who supervised the whole library.

He does visit the university library to return books but it just doesn't just piqued his interest especially when it's packed of performative students who just lounge there for attention, for his attention.

Well wouldn't? He might be a studious monster but it doesn't mean that he's not packed under that model student facade.

There's been this trend around the universities all around the country that's actually quite concerning for him. Like what do you mean people wanted a tall, handsome and nerdy boyfriend who never felt a touch of a woman all of his life for? And why does it have to be him? Well too bad they can't approach him.

His name and candid pictures is all over the internet for some reason and they've immortalized him into their degenerate fantasies.

He turned off his phone before he even went to a crashout, he then rubbed his eyelids, pushing his glasses upwards. His gaze then reverted back on to his laptop, looking at the date, 10/15/25. . . Should I do it. . . ?

He then heard rustling just in front of him, a few meters away from him, fixing his posture, to see who it is.

“Oh. . It's him, again.”

He always sees you in the library but he never saw you on campus, he knows that you guys went to the same university because of the ID lace you've been wearing, and you're always studying.. just like him, though you never acknowledged him inside the library nor tried to bother him in any way, though your presence always has been comforting for him, making him feel that he wasn't alone in this big ass library.

Whenever you guys somehow make eye contact with each other, you never gave him a scowl nor a smile, just your eyes making contact with his own made a connection, a silent conversation, Gojo felt something inside of him that he never felt before, he tried to brush it off like anyone else. Ignoring the part that his ears are tinted with pink and felt the blood rush onto his cheeks, his eyebrows knitted.

“Is this what having a crush is like. . .? How troublesome.”

He then continues to finish his reports, looking all constipated.

-

Let's just say that Gojo Satoru is a well-known figure all around the university, he dominated the ranks, consecutively, and his family name is widely known for it's excellence and luxuries, though he's been gifted intellectually ever since he was in his pre-school, crushing anyone's dreams and passion in one snap, the true definition of talent beats hardwork, many people despised him for that but some admired him, well not that Gojo cares for that anyways.

It was autumn, the sea of every shade of orange and brown maple leaves flooded the streets followed by the cold breeze making them dance, with kids in their thick coats, bonnets and little mittens running down the road, chasing each other.

He was walking down the hallway, basking in sunlight, almost illuminating his tall figure, fixing his black spectacles, he was wearing a black trench coat that reached below his knees, black turtleneck, grey slacks, and there hanged his ID lace, the shadow of the trees swaying gently in the wind matched the atmosphere, noticing the horde of students in front of the bulletin board where the preliminary ranks are announced, he then observed some of the students expressions contorted into a shocked, broken and somehow relieve faces.

“They're blocking the way. . .” Gojo irked as his veins almost popped on his forehead, he doesn't have a choice but to just look at the bulletin board himself where he can look for his rank this time, some of the students noticed his presence with a shocked expression and decided to step away, giving him a path and everyone else did.

His eyes scanned for his name, finding it on top, Rank 1. Satoru Gojo, with 99.45%, and followed by Aoi Todo being on Rank 2. with 97.56%, he felt the burning stares almost poking through his back, he heard some of the murmurs being “He didn't get a hundred this time, huh?” “Are you serious? You couldn't even get passed 70% you imbecile?!”

Gojo merely deadpanned, though they're right, he's expecting it to be 99.87% or just flat 100% this semester, General biology really did do him dirty this time, he gripped the handle of his black prada satchel rather tightly.

He then noticed a presence beside him, eyes widening slightly, it was you, he felt his heart thump, you must've been here to look at your rank as well, considering at the side you're in you must be his junior, looking at the direction you're looking at he saw your rank.

Rank 1. [Name] [Last name], with 99.47%

“Holy shit.” Gojo's eyes widened once again, his eyes slightly shimmering staring back at your figure.

“Stupid calculus. . .—” You murmured, eyes almost burning the paper in front of you, you then hear the tall person beside you.

“Wanna be study buddies together?” Gojo said in the most monotonous way as possible, as if he didn't just dropped a bomb on you and everyone else who's present, shoving his hands deep inside his pockets, ignoring the warm sensation coiling into his core and the audience behind you two.

“Pardon . . ?” Your jaw agape, confused? puzzled? confuzzled? You don't even know if that's a word at this point.

-

“So. . . you're meant to tell me that we should tutor each other, because your weak point is Biology and my weak point is Calculus?” You said as you try to calm yourself down, by the fact that the most popular nerd in the campus just drags you to some expensive cafe downtown to talk about academics. were you in some sort of lucid dream?

“Wrong, I said that your strong suit is Biology and my strong suit Calculus and by that we should help each other to be on top” Gojo gave a smile while slicing his strawberry shortcake with a knife.

“You literally just twisted my words and still proved my point, and besides how can we do that? We're not in the same year nor curriculum.” You then stabbed the blueberry cheesecake in half with a fork and shoved it in your mouth. fuck this shit is so good.

“Cute, but I did consider that and thought about that already, do you really think that I'll just decide and not think of the possible effects? I'm hurt.” Gojo pouted, chewing on his lips like a bullied child, fiddling his fingers together.

“You're a child. . . I didn't expect you to be this way y'know? You just have this certain aura about you that would make people not approach you at all but here you are begging me to be your study mate.” You said bluntly then sipping on your chocolate milkshake.

“Is that what you really think of me? Well I guess that's fair, though I just didn't like people leeching off me for their own benefits, but I'm guessing that you knew that already knowing how smart you are, aren't you?” Gojo said steadily, gaze dripping to your form, memorizing the every curve of you.

“Of course? I'm sure it's not that hard to conclude, no? Unless you're that pathetic, Being smart is nothing without empathy after all, so yes I would love to be your tutor.” You finished with a satisfied expression, putting down your fork on the plate.

“You just know what to say every time, did you rehearse this by any chance?” Gojo's heart kept on beating loudly as if he was alive again, leaning his head down to hide his growing smile and the healthy pink tint on his cheeks, it's so nice to get to talk to someone once again, he thought to himself.

“ I'm afraid I did not. . .”

-

“Satoru. . . Did you hit your head on your way home? What do you mean you want to live in the dorms?!” Geto screamed at the man as if he killed somebody. . . again.

“What's the big deal? It's not like I'm going to move away forever, just for a while y'know, I need tutoring for biology and shit.” Gojo grumbled slipping off his shoes and throwing the socks in the laundry bucket.

“Well it's not like I'm opposed to it or something, it's just so sudden. . . and weirdly enough for tutoring purposes? You all of people needed tutoring? Are you still the Satoru Gojo that I knew? The honor stud—” Geto was silenced by a pillow colliding on his face. “HEY—?!”

“Oh, shut your trap, will you? I literally have to beg my way just to make him agree y'know?” Gojo complained, lying down on the soft mattress of the couch.

“Begging? You? Damn you are down bad aren't you? Is your new boy-toy that hot?” Geto flopped down the couch beside Gojo, as he turned on the television.

“He's not just hot y'know, he's incredibly smart and kind too . . .” Gojo buried his face on the pillow screaming into it.

“You got yourself a crush, huh. Young love these days. . .” Geto sighed, holding the remote directly at the big ass screen in front of them.

“Ugh. You're such a bummer, Suguru. . .” Gojo sat up, gaze staring at the screen, reading it silently.

Scream, 1996.

“Hey, Suguru. Wanna dress up as Ghostface again? I mean it's almost Halloween.” Gojo asked Geto beside him.

“Eh, Him again? I think I will change my costume this year's halloween y'know? Like Count Dracula or something.” Geto answered his friend making his way to the kitchen to get some snacks.

“Well suit yourself, I guess.”

-

“WHAT?!” all of your friends chorused, cramped inside your dormitory, it's not that cramped actually, you're just dramatic.

“Oh, will you guys shut up about it already?” You grimaced as you tried to focus on the math tutorial online to not embarrass yourself once your tutoring starts, clicking the play button on your laptop on top of your study desk, notebooks and textbooks scattered everywhere.

“What do you mean by shutting it already, huh?! You punk. The Gojo Satoru just asked you to be his tutor?! That's fucking insane.” Nobara pinched your cheeks and pulled it with a scary look at her face, you tried to pull it off only for her to pinched it even more causing you to winced. Her nails are weapons, I'm telling y'all.

“That's actually so lit, [Name]!! I mean you are the smartest student in the Junior department after all and he's the smartest in the senior department.” Yuji said with a proud look on his face because he's your friend and you're his friend.

“For once, I agree with Itadori.” Megumi said while playing with Kiki on top of your bed as the cat merely snuggled to Megumi's side.

“Hey! What's that supposed to mean, huh?!” Yuji abruptly stood up to throw a pillow at Megumi.

“ H-HEY NO PILLOW FIGHT— HEY THAT'S MY TROPHY YOU DUMBASS?! PUT IT DOWNNN—”

-

After class, you found yourself in the teacher's faculty room, the air-conditioning hitting your face gently, a cold shiver running down your spine, Professor Tsukaba personally called for you via message.

“Mr. [Last Name], thank you for the immediate attendance, I would like to inform you about the issues with your dormitory and I would like to congratulate you for ranking first.” Ms. Tsukaba merely spinned her chair with a small smile gracing her lips.

“Issues? I'm afraid, I don't know what you're talking about. . .though thank you Professor Tsukaba.” You pondered, but you don't exactly remember what you did wrong or what happened to have an issue.

“Oh, Do not worry dear, it's not that kind of issue. It's just that the University's (RA) noticed that you don't have a roommate just this week and we decided to settle it, luckily someone in the senior department is willing to be your roommate, since it's his first time in the dormitory.” She explained to you while finishing her lesson plan.

Your body stiffened at the moment that you actually forgot to breathe, a roommate?!

“Ah. . Is that so, I understand. Though can I please know who it is?” You meekly asked the lady.

“I'm afraid I cannot, I made a promise with that child, to not tell you who he is if you ever asked for it.” Ms. Tsukaba apologized with a sorry face.

“No, it's completely alright, Professor. When is he arriving?” You dismissed but asked again.

“Tomorrow night, Dear.” The lady answered your question before sipping her tea.

ALREADY?!

“ Thank you, Professor. I will take my leave now.” You plead your goodbye, as you bow to her.

“No need to be so formal with me, [Name]. I am not going to feed you math equations this time.” Ms. Tsukaba jested with a teasing tone.

“Ma'am, it's not funny at all. . .” You grimaced.

“Y'know I'm joking.”

You then made your way outside the faculty, the warm sun rays welcoming you through the glass window, the sunset after classes always had mesmerized you while you pondered.

“I guess I need to do a general cleaning, huh. How troublesome.”

-

You slipped the last book into your shelf, the books categorized as what kind of genre or type they are, you even changed the sheets of the unused bed beside you, cleaned the dust on the empty study table, changed the curtains, vacuumed and mopped the floor, you even scrubbed the bathroom clean, cleaning your medals and trophies you received since you're a freshman inside the glass cabinet, of course you have more than that but you left all of your highschool memorabilias and awards at your parent's home.

You flopped down to your bed, checking your phone for the time, 7:12 pm. Swiping up to see if your order has been shipped, it's just Halloween decorations after all, you're still thinking of what your costume is going to be, you did see that some of the dorm rooms had started to decorate their doors and little pathways.

It's still unreal to you that you're going to have a roommate now but you can't bend the rules after all, whoever your roommate's going to be you prayed that they're somewhat kind or chill, you messaged your little friend group about it and they absolutely went batshit about it.

You stood up to look at your appearance in the mirror, damn I look like shit. You then reached for your towel in the rack and got the clothes inside your closet, your roommate might be on their way now and you're looking like shit? No way.

You make your way inside the bathroom and shower.

-

Gojo kept on looking at his watch every damn 5 seconds while he drives with Geto beside him who's looking at him like he's gone mad.

“Will you please calm your ass down? You're not even late. You insisted on living in a dormitory now face the repercussions.” Geto said with a tired face, “If Shoko was here right now she'd be frying you.”

“I am calm! I'm just nervous because it's my first time y'know. . !” Gojo bantered as he parked near the university.

“Oh, don't bullshit me with that, Satoru. I know you too well.” Geto just watched his friend get his luggage inside the trunk in the mirror.

“Yeah, yeah Mr. Know-it-all. Bye for now, don't miss me too much, 'kay?” Gojo said with a smug smile while waving his goodbyes.

“Last time I checked you are the Mr. Know-it-all here, you nerdy hunk. Just don't die.” Geto said while waving back to his friend, starting the car once again.

Gojo went inside the dormitory building to see some of the students in their sleeping wear and some of them in casual, looking at him with a bamboozled expression, he looked for the room 436 with a luggage on his side, wearing a black chrome hearts hoodie with white sweatpants.

He eventually found it on the fourth floor, where the rooms are weirdly quiet, is it not occupied? Well I guess no neighbors then.

He stopped in front of the door, twisting the knob to know if it was locked, it's not. Walking himself inside the room, it was quite spacious, with two windows, two beds and two tables. How cute, it was really made for roommates, have you been living alone like this for months? Isn't that lonely. He also saw your glass cabinet full of trophies and certificates stacked together with your name on it, medals displayed. Yeah. You're his type. He bit his lips, smirking a little.

Gojo also noticed a bolster bed beside your bed with two small bowls, he then felt a creature snuggled beside his leg, a white ragdoll cat, with cerulean-blue eyes that could rival his, letting out a small mewl.

“Well aren't you cute? Besides the fact that you look just like me. . .”

Gojo then made his way to your side, where all your things are organized and located, you're so neat with your things, leaving his luggage by his bed, with a cat following him.

He noticed the small things that screamed too much of you, you're so cute. He also noticed the pictures you displayed, pink haired dude, black haired boy and a brunette girl, it must be your friends.

Gojo heard the knob twisting by the bathroom area, he perked at the familiar figure that emerged from it.

“Long time, no see. How have you've bee—” He then felt his breath hitching by the sight of you, clad in a loose white shirt and dark grey sweat shorts, and a white towel hanging in your neck, droplets of water dripped down your hair strands, also dripping down your thighs and smooth legs. Fuck.

“So it was you after all? I had a hunch but I didn't expect it to be true. . .” You then tried to dry your hair with your towel then you remembered that you have a hair blower in your drawer. “ I've been fine, make yourself at home, you can unpack your things sooner or later if you want, Kiki seems to like you.” You said walking past his frozen figure.

“Its name is Kiki? How adorable, considering that it looks a bit like me, no?” Gojo swallowed his saliva back, and jested, flopping down his bed.

“Now that you mentioned it, Kiki does look like a bit like you because of color, he's also a boy if you're wondering.” You then turn the blower on mild heat to dry your hair, putting the blower slightly higher making your shirt hitched a bit upwards revealing the side of your waist. he wanted to grab it so bad.

“Y-yeah. . . Thanks.” He then looked away covering the half of his face with his hand, fearing that his face might erupt into multiple shades of red. Why must you tease me this way.

-

It has been a week since Gojo moved in with you.

He already got his pc setup with triple monitors settled on his very own desk, his xbox, nintendo switch and even his vr set is already displayed, his multiple textbooks and books are already stacked and settled on the shelf, and not to mention his hyperfixation of Digimon is already there. Gojo's greed sickens me.

You also find him weird.

There are a few times when you catch him just blatantly staring at you then looking away, you can't just ignore the feeling of that eyes memorizing the every crevice of you, no? Watching the every fiber of your being, There are also these scenarios where he will almost touch you in any way but it's almost like he's restraining himself to do so, holding himself back, you can't seem to grasp it.

You will see him all day on his desk studying, well you aren't surprised by it in any way it's just that you notice him skipping his meals trying to memorize and solve things in his notebook, for a smart person he sure is dumb enough to neglect himself.

“Hey. . . Have you eaten? You've been at your desk since 7:06 am, it's already 4:30 pm.” You asked while flopping down to his bed, tilting your head to see his face.

“Aw, I didn't know that you care for me, [Name], for you to keep track of my time at that.” Gojo perked at your sudden appearance next to him, with a dainty smile gracing his lips.

To be fair, Gojo isn't used to being cared for, especially a stranger who only knew him and he knew for weeks, usually it's just Suguru and Shoko who checks up on him, because his parents weren't present when he turned five years old for business overseas and familial reasons, leaving him emotionally unavailable and mentally constipated, then he felt that warm sensation coiling inside of him once again everytime you're so close to him, the hairs on his neck starts to stand up.

“Why yes? This is my first time having a roommate y'know, I can't just have you neglecting yourself, not on my sight.” You bantered at him, putting your arms up to stretch your back.

“That's true or maybe you're just too kind for your own good, do you treat everyone like this, [Name]?” Gojo said with a honeyed tone at first then gritted his teeth by the end of it.

“Not really, I'm quite picky.” You stood up making your way to the mini kitchen you guys have, as you answered him frankly.

“Oh? I guess I'm a lucky one, then?” Gojo's irises glimmered at your form, with a small smile on his lips.

“I guess you are.” You craned your head to look at him and said.

“You aren't really making me win that easy, huh?” Gojo let out a breathy laugh, returning to his screen, hiding his growing smile once again.

“Y'know how I am. . . ” You merely finished grabbing the matcha powder in the cupboard.

-

Your eyes felt heavy, feeling the incoming yawn in your throat you stretched your back, arms up, you've been on your laptop for almost 8 hours now, finishing some of the powerpoint presentations and group reports, a few ones in microsoft excel and some quizzes in kahoot! that made your head want to explode, but you still have a week till the deadline, pushing the power off button the laptop can finally rest and so are you, standing up to make your way in the bathroom, giving your roommate glances who's also chained to his desk, with the textbooks he borrowed from you scattered around his desk, high quality headphones that hanged on his neck, the light of his monitors illuminating his figure, making a certain glow that made him look ethereal.

You washed your face, then brushed your teeth, coming out of the bathroom to see Kiki already waiting for you. Food. Yeah.

You immediately went into the kitchen cabinet to find Kiki's kibbles and his favorite wet food, mixing it together, then poured it into his food bowl.

Yawning once again, then flopping down to the soft cushions of your bed, you almost melted into your mattress, the sheets were cold because of the air-conditioning, and the fabric conditioner smelled so nice, but you can't seem to fall asleep, looking at your roommate who's still glued to his seat, you then rested your chin on your hand, staring at Gojo, his face, I mean who wouldn't especially when he's not wearing his glasses.

Gojo typed the last paragraph, precisely, though he already felt the exhaustion punching him right in the head, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses, until he felt someone staring at him, it was you, staring at him, making eye contact with you.

“Uhm, Do you need anything. . . ?” Gojo asked while fixing his glasses.

You perked up at the sudden question, your mind almost went blank, what should you say? Shit. Well you don't have anything to say anyway because you're just literally looking at his face. Though If I say that it'd be embarrassing, no it's humiliating.

“Well not really. . ? I was just wondering why a good-looking guy like you wears glasses, now that I mention this, I noticed these past few days that you get around just fine even without your glasses, I assumed that your eyes aren't that bad.” You rambled while scratching your cheek, but you just made yourself more humiliated.

Gojo's eyes widened yet softened at your words, no one really asked him that before.

“To be honest, you're quite right, though I already wear glasses since I was in the fourth grade and I am not used to it when I don't have it, I feel like I'm blind or something. . .thanks by the way.” He answered returning back to his monitors, attempting to hide his reddening cheeks.

“I see, well good night then.” You smiled at him as you settled down in your bed, nestled under your snoopy blanket.

“Good night.”

Gojo wasn't the type to lose his mind when it comes to deadlines and the mountain of reviewers that he needs to study on a random thursday night, he's usually so laid-back and composed when it comes to this to this stuff, because he always studies until it's breaking dawn, the sunrise always greeting him like an old friend.

But this time he's not so sure anymore, his skin didn't feel right on his bones, sweat slick on his back, unfocused and distracted, and it's all your fault, the every thought inside his head somehow is being interconnected with you.

Eventually he did get used to it, but it wasn't easy, he really likes it when you teach him, you're actually educating rather than making him feel dumb for not knowing or understanding it, and you're so patient with it too. The way you explained so intricately yet he can pick it up quickly is so important to him. and by that he decided that you're going to be his. No matter what.

He also decided that you're not just his flimsy crush anymore, something ignited inside of him that he can't somehow control, but he's not opposed to it either and then so this kind of occurrence only happens when you're not around.

Whenever he's in the shower he can't help but to get a boner when he remembers your fleeting touch on his broad shoulders, the way you ruffle his white locks whenever he gets the correct answer to your questions, the way your breathing tickles his ears when you gossip with him about your day or when you walked in the room only wearing an unbuttoned white button-up shirt that revealed your soft and smooth stomach with some muscle on it and a black boxer shorts that almost destroyed his last drop of sanity. Fuck he's so into you and you're too oblivious for you're own good.

He bit his lip, eyebrows knitted together, whimpering, pumping his dick up and down, slick covering his shaft, precum oozing out the slit, he imagined you blowing his dick and shooting it down your throat as you gagged on it, tears brimming.

Fuck. He can't wait to tutor you.

-

“Satoru. . . Will you get your ass here already? I need help with decorating the door over here.” You called for him, while holding the Happy Halloween cutouts and webs, you already displayed the jack-o'-lanterns and the whole skeleton sitting on the chair with a coffee mug in its hand, resembling what you're going to be in the future or something.

“Hey! Just because I gave you the permission to call me by my first name doesn't mean that you can abuse it.” Gojo grumbled coming out of the bathroom with his hair slick back from being wet, wearing a black compression shirt and grey joggers.

“Stop being a baby and stick this on the door. ” You rolled your eyes and said while reaching it to Gojo.

“But I'm your baby aren't I?” Gojo finds a way to twist your words against you once again and decides to tease you, leaning his face close to you, with a sly expression.

You smacked his shoulder in return.

“OUCH— Hey! That's not nice” Gojo cried, rubbing the spot that you've smacked, while pouting.

“Well, news flash, I don't intend to be nice.” You said, while walking inside the dorm leaving the weeping Gojo outside, unbeknownst to the reddening of your cheeks and neck.

“For a short-term roommates they sure act like a married couple.” Mai spoke while puffing out smoke in her cigarette, looking at the situation unfolding in front of them.

“This building has been inhabited with gay people or something.” Maki bantered while fixing her cap.

“You're talking as if you didn't just eye fucked Nobara back in the bar.” Mai jested, teasing her twin sister.

“H-HEY?! That's not true, Take that back! and will you stop smoking when I'm around? You've been hanging out with Leiri-senpai haven't you?!” Maki's eyes widened, face blooming into 50 shades of red, pointing to her devil-spawned twin sister.

“Nye nye nye, I can't hear youuu—” Mai said throwing the used cigarettes to the nearby trash can as Maki chased her down the stairs.

-

“Satoru, why's your face like that. . . ?” You noticed then asked in concern.

“What do you mean?” Gojo asked back in return, with a clueless expression.

“You look like you're about to kill someone with that look.” You deadpanned.

“Really? I apologize, I'm just not used to many people coming here to study or lounging, it's usually peaceful.” Gojo reasoned out, as his gaze never left the people packed in the central area of the library, he recognized those ID laces, his veins almost popped in his neck and forehead, knuckle turning white from his grip, when he catches one of them ogling at you.

Fucking. Sukuna Ryomen with his signature smirk. Asshole. He's definitely trying to piss him off. Yeah I'm going to kill that bastard if he even tries to touch you.

“Is that so? Well, don't mind them, I'm sure they meant no harm.” You replied gently.

“Yeah, I'm sure. . .” Gojo said lowly.

-

“Little red riding hood? Really. You're making me dress into some dumb and naive girl? I am quite offended.” You grimaced at Nobara who's dressed up into Clawdeen Wolf from monster high, reaching the costume to you.

“Not my fault that it's the one that you've got in the spinning wheel, be grateful that I'm going to do your make-up!” Nobara rolled her eyes once again, throwing the clothes to your face.

“I'm sure you'll look great, [Name]!!” Yuji tried to cheer you up who's dressed up as the Frankenstein from Hotel Transylvania.

“How come you guys got the good ones while I didn't?!” You complained while pointing fingers at your friends.

“Our fate is aligning with our wants, I guess.” Megumi said while adjusting the scissors in his fingers, dressed up as Edward Scissorhands.

“How unfair.” You sulked while putting on the costume in Nobara's bathroom, the costume consists of white tailored button-up with high collar, long sleeves with ruffles, dark red vest with gold buttons with a matching corset, burgundy trousers that end around the knees, white tights with a rose and vines design, chestnut colored lace-up knee high boots and a dark red cape with a hood and a ribbon, you slipped on the boots and it's just your size. How did Nobara know. . . ?

Anyways, you finished the laces that you need to tie and took your phone to message Gojo to tell him that if he's done dressing then he could go early, don't forget to feed Kiki and lock the door, then turn it off.

You walked out of the bathroom with a scowl, earning a squeal from Nobara who's been waiting for you, Yuji who's just clapping and Megumi who's sitting uncomfortable with his costume, he can't exactly function that well with a big ass diy scissors in his fingers.

“That's more like it you dumbass, now let's do your make-up!!” Nobara mischievously smiled and ran to her walk in closet to grab her make-up box.

You checked your phone to see Gojo's white heart reaction, and a little message that he's already on his way to the campus on the notifications, you smiled softly at the small endearment, he also told you that he's dressed up as Ghostface which actually intrigued you because you haven't watched Scream yet.

“Hey. What are you smiling at? Get your ass here before we get late.” Nobara grimaced, holding a foundation and make-up blender.

Well. You can't escape now, this is your first time joining a party in a public event, especially halloween, mostly you just rot on the couch and just play whatever halloween special movies you see in the recommendation in netflix, eat popcorn then call it a night.

“Yeah, yeah.” You sat on the chair in front of the vanity mirror while Nobara tries not to rip your face off.

“Hey, y'all the class gc just announced something.” Yuji scrolled to his phone.

“What did they say?” Megumi said while muching on some skittles.

“They said that some of the students from the university just crashed into the campus grounds, trick or treating, some of our schoolmates didn't like that and almost started chaos but the university deputy let it slide because it is a halloween party and anybody could join and announced some of the rules and precautions if somebody ever did cause a problem.” Yuji explained with his knitted eyebrows.

“The fuck? Just how shameless could they be to do that? Crashing into another university's party, for what? Couldn't they just do a party on their own campus?” Nobara irked with an angry expression that it almost scared you, while applying light eye shadow on your eyelids.

“I bet they have hidden motives, ain't no way they're just going on our campus to go trick or treating, don't they?” Megumi bantered.

“Yeah, they didn't do this on last year's halloween.” Yuji followed while fixing his red neck tie. Damn this costume is hot.

“Well enough of that, look at our little red riding hood! Isn't he so cute.” Nobara teased while applying the lip gloss on your lips as a finishing touch.

“Will you stop that? You're actually scaring me.” You grimace while Nobara just ignores you as she does a retouch on her face, looking at yourself in the mirror, you actually find it pleasant.

“Looking good, [Name]!!” Yuji complimented you while helping Megumi stand up, as he also agrees.

“Thank you, Yuji.” You smiled while fixing your hair beneath the hood.

“Y'all, let's get going it's almost 6pm.” Nobara reminded while getting her purse.

-

Walking down the streets, you noticed that the streetlights are finally waking, illuminating surroundings, the road is full of kids in their little costumes and jack-o'-lantern baskets filled with candies, it was boisterous yet fun.

What could go wrong, right?

When your little friend group finally reached the University's entrance, it was decorated with Halloween decorations, spooky.

You can hear people chattering inside some are even playing loud music. If you can recall the song, it was called the Goo Goo Muck.

“Looking rather dainty aren't you, Mr. [Last Name]?” Ms. Tsukaba approached you with a fruit punch on her hand and a small smile, dressed up as Unohana from Bleach. Holy shit.

“Professor?! You attend a gathering like this?” Your jaw slacked when you saw your well respected science professor at a Halloween party.

“Why yes? I conclude that this is your first time attending, because I always greet my students if I see them.” Ms. Tsukaba spoke in a well mannered way yet slightly teasing.

“You don't need to rub it in my face, Professor. . .” You sulked once again, while your friends are holding their laugh in their hands while Megumi suffers from holding his breath.

“Y'know I'm joking, dear.” She lamented while patting you in the shoulder.

-

You sat down on some bench while your friends left you to meet up with their other friends, you felt a little lonely but you remembered that you have a roommate, fishing for your phone inside your pockets, you immediately opened your message box to send a message to Gojo, asking where is he as you try to describe what part of campus you're at.

“What's a pretty little thing like you doing all alone over here?”

You flinched at the sudden voice, it was rough yet steady, you looked up to see a man, he has pink hair that was slicked back, burgundy irises that turns into red when light touches it, muscular body that dips down to his slender waist and he's dressed up as the Joker with markings tattooed on his face, and so you thought, he looks just like Yuji. Could it be?

“Do I know you. . . ?” You meekly asked, since you guys are in the secluded area where there's not many people around.

“Aw, sweetheart, don't be that way, I just wanna be friends with ya.” flopping down next to you, one arm on top of the backrest, fleeting touches right on your shoulder, legs slightly spreading, bumping with yours, head leading too close to your shoulder. “The name's Sukuna, darlin', can I know yours?” He said coyly, gaze boring into your figure.

“[Name]. . .” You answered, nervously sliding away from the seat, you sense the intentions of the man beside you, yes. He is fucking hot, you'll admit that, but you barely know him so—

“A fitting name for such a delicate thing, now why are you trying to back away from me?” Sukuna spoke, grinning at your answer, noticing the shifting of your body and the way you're fixing your cape, he finally saw an opening, your hips, he slithered his hand, fingertips almost touching it until, black figure swoop you into his arms.

“Do you not know to fuck off?”

Your eyes widened by the sudden action, cape swaying in the wind, knocking your hood off, you recognized that voice and it sounded pissed off, by instinct you engulf your arms around the man's neck, legs securing his waist.

Gojo lifted up his ghostface mask to the side of his head, he's not wearing his glasses this time, with a deep scowl in his face, gaze that sharp as knives, his irises are almost glowing at this point, you also noticed his jaw ticked, vein prominent on his neck, holding you by the waist by his bulging arms, you don't know what is it but those eyes can hold such storm, menacing and malevolent.

“Is that how you greet your old peers, Gojo? Oh and look I met your little bunny.” Sukuna merely whistled at the swift move, smiling even wider at the sight, teasing, pointing at you.

“Too bad I never considered you as one, you dumbfuck.” Gojo spouts, hands gripping you even tighter. You eyed him, you certainly haven't seen him this worked up and full out cursing someone out, then you whispered into his ear.

“Satoru. . . Let's just go.” Oh how he loves it when he hears his name rolled perfectly out of your lips, he almost purred right there. Patience Satoru. Patience.

“You better take care of that one, or he might disappear.” Sukuna spoke as he lit up the cigarette and put it in his mouth to puff out smoke, looking at two, retreating back to the party, with a growing smirk, leaning his head back. Fuck, that cute little thing is just my type.

While walking, Gojo still hasn't let go of you, and refuses to.

“So mind telling me who he is?” You asked curiously while playing with his hair.

“He's my highschool classmate, and he's a pain in the ass, especially to me.” Gojo pouted and grumbled, tucking his chin on your shoulder, cuddling you at this point.

“Based on his looks, he's a bully isn't he and he bullied you?” You said lean your head on his shoulder while patting his back like you're consoling a child.

“I think so? But I don't really consider it as that, he just loves pestering and messing with me to the point that we almost killed each other.” Gojo narrated while walking down the dimly lit road, damn you did try to run away from the crowd that hard that you really went this far.

“What a child. Do you think he's into me or something?” You absentmindedly said then he just squeezed you a bit tighter right after you said that, you then slap his arm. “Hey! that hurt.” looking at his expression, he's biting his lips with a scowl once again.

“Mhm. . . I think so, But! There's no way I'm letting that happen, I found you first.” Gojo grumbled then declared, making you cringe.

“Anyways, enough of that fucker, did you like my gift though?” Gojo's mood just changed in seconds, Is he bipolar or something? then he asked while tugging the hem of your costume.

“So it was you who bought this?! that's why it fits me so well, are my friends part of this? Oh for god's sake of course they are.” You pull his white locks in anger.

“OUCH—”

-

After the party, and multiple shot fruit punch did really punch you in the face considering that you have a fucking massive headache right now, they didn't tell you that the third batch of fruit punch was alcoholic, good thing that Yuji was there to inform you right after your second glass, now you're in Gojo's car, he said something about staying in his villa to stay for the night but you can't even decide or function properly because of the current state you're in, your head is pounding and your legs hurt, so you just agreed.

Waking up to someone moving you, in a bridal style, you rubbed your eyes to see properly, oh it was Satoru, he's finally wearing his glasses this time.

You noticed the surroundings, you were in some kind of estate, large gates and a pool.

“Satoru, Is this your house?” You asked groggily, leaning to him even more, your head's still pounding after all.

“Yes pretty, this is my home.” Gojo murmured softly into your ears, you only hummed in return. “It's beautiful.”

“Thank you, pretty.”

“Since when did you start calling me that?”

“Since now.”

Going inside, the breeze of the air-conditioning immediately invades your skin, as Gojo settles you down the couch, and it's the softest couch you've laid upon, he went upstairs then comes down with a stack of clothes in his hands.“Hey, you can use the bathroom by the way, wash your face, and change, I just need to take care of something.” Gojo reached the stack of his clothes to you then ruffled your hair. this side of you is so so cute.

“Mhmm. . . Thank you, take care.” You hummed in agreement once again and took the clothes, watching your roommate's form go outside the door.

You reach for your phone to check the time, 9:16 pm, you open to check your message box, pressing your friend group's gc, messaging them if they can go and check Kiki in the dorms, fortunately Yuji's still online and replied that he'll go. Nice.

Damn my legs are fucked up, you thought as you navigate your way in the bathroom in this big ass house you're at, changing into the clothes that you were given and tossing the costume set inside the laundry basket, and it's a bit big for you, well it was Gojo's clothes after all.

He gave you an oversized grey shirt and hello kitty pajamas, you then proceed to wash your face with whatever soap Gojo got in his bathroom, surprisingly he does use the stuff you were also using, coming out the bathroom room, the cold wind made you shiver, damn this place is so fucking cold.

You flop down the couch to observe the spacious place, the interior design was amazing, it fits Gojo's aesthetic just right. Now you remembered, you didn't ask where he was going, you immediately took your phone and messaged him but he didn't answer, how odd, he always answers immediately. Maybe he's busy. You turn it off.

Eventually you got bored since you're not sleepy anymore. Satoru wouldn't mind if you watched a movie on his large ass television, yes? Yeah he wouldn't. you reached for the remote, pressing the Netflix button.

Should you rewatch Halloween once again? Or maybe Friday the 13th?

And so you did both.

It's been two hours since you've been watching, and Gojo still hasn't answered your messages you even tried to call him though it seems like his phone is off and it's actually making you worried.

Then you flinched when you heard it ring, grabbing it to see Sato— wait, this isn't Satoru's contact number, it must've been a wrong press, you just ignored it until it ended, you felt yourself quite famished so you went to the pantry to find some snack, pretzels? Chips? Popcorn? Yeah.

You placed the popcorn bag inside the microwave until your phone rings once again. You finally answered it.

“Hello?” You asked, putting your hand in your hip.

“Hello. Who is this?” The man spoke rather confused, his voice is deep and gravelly, it almost sends shivers down your core.

“Erm. Who're you trying to reach?” You asked once, maybe this is some kind of prank because it's halloween, but wouldn't it be more fitting if it's in april? How peculiar.

“What number is this?” The man asked, and it almost irked you.

“Again, what number are you trying to reach? Mister whoever you are, I don't have time for some kind of prank—” You answered agitated. Then the man answers “I don't know.” You thought that you'll pop a vein first then those popcorn in the microwave.

“Well, I think you have the wrong number.” You replied, a finger almost hovering on the end button. “Do I?” The man behind the phone coyly said.

“Yeah, It happens. Take it easy.” Your eyes flickering to the microwave, you press the end button, hanging up and put it on top of the counter, reaching for the buttons of the microwave, then it rings again. Are you fucking kidding me?

Since you're petty, you answered it again. Hearing the man's voice once again.

“I'm sorry, I guess I dialed the wrong number.”

“So why'd you dial it again?” Your voice almost raising by being annoyed.

“To apologize.”

“You're forgiven, now leave me alone.” You scoffed.

“Wait, wait! Don't hang up on me.” The man almost sounded desperate.

“What now?” You asked, rolling your eyes.

“I wanna talk to you for a second.”

“Sorry to break it to you but I'm busy. And besides I'm sure there's thousand of numbers for you to prank or something.” You sassed to the complete stranger who has an incredibly hot fucking voice but he was disrupting your movie time while waiting for your roommate, you then hanged up.

You finally turned on the microwave and cook the popcorn, fucking finally, watching it spin around inside, once it's done, you opened it and poured it inside a porcelain bowl, you wondered why Gojo decided to live in dormitory when he lives like this.

Flopping down the couch, you reach for the remote, until you hear your phone rings once again. Oh it's the same number. How fun.

“Hello?” You deadpanned.

“Why don't you wanna talk to me?” The man desperately asked, almost sad.

“Hey, actually. Who is this? You're actually creeping me out.” You told him truthfully as you placed the bowl on the glass coffee table, lying down the couch now.

“You tell me your name and I'll tell you mine.”

“Are you serious? If you are, I don't think so.” You replied, you felt your headache coming up again, reaching out for the popcorn and munching it.

“What's that noise?” He asked.

“Popcorn.” You answered shortly.

“You're eating popcorn?”

“Obviously.” You stated, with knitted eyebrows.

“I only eat popcorn at the movies.” He ignored your immediate reply of stating the obvious and continued to yap.

“Well I am getting ready to watch a movie right now, if you care enough.” You answered while eating.

“Really? What movie?”

“Just some scary movies.” You blatantly said.

“You like scary movies?”

“Yeah, but mostly paranormal documentaries.” You answered truthfully, even though he's a complete stranger he seems chill, and so you think.

“What's your favorite scary movie?”

“I actually haven't thought of that.” You pondered.

“You have to have a favorite, what comes to your pretty little mind?” The man's honeyed voice just happened to hypnotize you or something.

“Erm, Halloween? Y'know the one with the guy in white mask that walks around and stalks babysitters?” You answered absentmindedly yet concise, thinking that if you answer him he will finally shut up.

“Yeah. . .”

“What's yours?” It's your turn to ask.

“Guess.”

“Erm. Nightmare on Elm Street?” You just think of a random halloween movie and said it.

“Is that the one where the guy had knives for fingers?”

“Yeah, I think his name is Freddy Krueger or something.” Your memory wasn't that vivid, it's mostly the functions of the excretory system you try to memorize, not the killers in some movies.

“Freddy, yeah, that's right, I liked that movie. It was scary.” The man merely agrees.

“Well, the first one was, but the rest sucked—” You finally remembered the rest of the movie.

“So, you got a boyfriend?” The man asked.

“Why? You wanna ask me out on a date? Seriously.” Your eyes widened by the sudden question but still remained composed even when this man is literally wasting your time.

“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Mmmm, no.” You denied, the audacity of this man is quite insane.

“You never told me your name.” The man asked.

“Why do you want to know my name, so badly?” You answered once again with your remaining patience, then it happens.

“'Cause I want to know who I'm looking at.”

What the fuck.

Your blood ran cold. The atmosphere suddenly changed, are you trembling? You don't know, you became wary.

“W-what did you just say?” You murmured, as you sat up looking at every direction, but he can still hear you.

“I want to know who I'm talking to.” The man continues to talk.

“That's not what you said.” You bantered, trying to hold yourself together, you need to call Satoru, or whoever it is who's online, you close the blinds, windows and the doors, but remembered that this wasn't your house, you aren't that familiar with it.

“What do you think I said? Hello?”

You turned quiet, trying to think. Fuck, you're so scared, you're actually trembling.

“Look, I think we should call it a night, yes?” You asked the man once again, your heart is beating so fast.

“Wait! I thought we're gonna go out together.”

“Uhm, no. I don't think so.” You tried to stay calm, pressing the end button.

“No! Don't hang up on me—”

You scrambled to your feet, it still hurts but you still went upstairs, finding your way to Satoru's room. Then it rings.

Fuck.

“Yes?” Your voice growing loud.

“I told you to not hang up on me.” The man's voice turned lowly, threateningly.

“What do you want from me. Leave me alone.” You spoke rather harsh.

“To talk.”

“Well, dial someone else, okay?” You said trembling.

“Listen. . . Just don't hang up on me and you'll be fine, understand?” His voice becoming more sinister.

“Is this some kind of joke?” You asked, you're terrified.

“More of a game, really, can you handle that?” He bantered.

“Listen, I'm two seconds away from calling the police—”

“Oh please, honey. They'd never make it in time. We're out in the middle of nowhere.”

Your stomach dropped because y'know to yourself that it was true, the police have always been late, your eyes felt hot, the hairs on your arms and legs started to stand up.

“What do you want from me?!” You screamed at your phone, tears almost brimming down your cheeks.

“To see what your insides look like.”

-

His ocean-blue irises almost dimmed, as blood dripped down his sharp knife, seeing his reflection of it.

There laid Sukuna's body, with multiple stabs in his stomach and head, his organs almost flooding out, gutted like a fish, gouged eye balls, and severed hand, the hand that touched you, there's splotches of blood everywhere, he spat into the dead man's corpse.

“Fuck around and find out, I guess.”

He adjusted his glasses to see you properly, in the monitor, oh how adorable you are, he was already inside the house, specifically the security room where every single angle of the house can be seen, he's watching your every move, he used Sukuna's phone and inserted your number to call you.

He watched you tremble, and cry, like a bunny lost in the woods waiting for the big bad wolf to devour him. Fuck he's hard, watching you go straight up into his bedroom, you just fell right into his trap.

Gojo then took off his bloodied black latex and settled it on top of the control counter, disinfecting the bloodied knife with alcohol, slipping his mask on, once again. Let's play.

It's been awhile since he put on his infamous mask, feeling the adrenaline rush into his system and this time he's more eager, more carnal.

Walking out the door, with feather like footsteps, he lived inside these walls almost half of his life, he already memorized the every corner of his home, even in complete darkness, how smart of you to turn off the lights but he's always two steps ahead of you.

-

You don't know what the fuck happened but it all happened in a flash, you heard the door being shut then a clink being the lock, then your heart pounding inside your ribs. You tried to escape but the knife in his hand just sealed your fate.

Now you're kneeling on the floor with your mouth being fucked, hard.

The masked man's cock has a thick vein that disappears below its head, arched against his sculpted stomach that dips down to his navel, trimmed white pubes. Fuck. Satoru?

You couldn't see properly because of the dark surroundings, hearing a clap, the lights suddenly turned on, revealing the masked man sitting at the chair, legs spreading, surprisingly enough, it's the same mask that your roommate was wearing, you trembled as the cold surface of the sharp knife pricked the skin of your neck, sliding down to your chest, but not enough to scar you.

You felt your eyes widened at the sudden realization, tears brimming, choking on it while the creamy precum drips on your tongue down to your tight throat, whimpering as hands gripped your hair to pushing it deeper, you drooled, eyes rolling back to your skull, feeling the tip of the knife pressing against your throat.

“Well, aren't you a smart boy? Finally figured it out, hm?” Gojo murmured, pushing his mask aside, revealing his face, his white and silky locks falling perfectly to his forehead, with his black frames looking down at you as you look up to him with those pleading eyes, mouth full of his dick. Fuuckk.

“Can't talk with your mouth full, huh? Too bad.” He said with smirking, slamming it down, repeatedly with his hips, hard, the crown of his bulbous tip abusing the end of your throat, he watches as drool and his hot cum pooling in your lips.

The mix of saliva and his semen frothed, coating his shaft with a creamy ring, dripping down your chin, choking on his thick load. You can only moan and breathe to your nose Fuck you felt your own dick getting hard. You wanna touch it so badly.

He then threw the knife at the floor.

“Swallow it, and don't waste a single drop.” He then pulled his cock out of your mouth, creating a thick white string, you tried to swallow it all.

“Toruu. . . you're so mean.” You groggily said, throat raw, cock drunk.

“Aww, baby. Too mean for you?” Gojo cooed while caressing your head, untangling your knotted strands, swooping you up into his lap, you felt his rock hard cock slipped past your hole with slick, eliciting a moan from you.

“We aren't finished yet, pretty.”

-

“Fuck. You look so fucking good with my clothes on, baby.” Gojo moaned, his glasses were still on which made your stomach flutter for some reason you don't understand, while his tongue was deep inside your raw and slick hole, licking the stripe of your ass, holding your shaking thighs with both of his hands in a vice grip, you trembled while you tried to muffle your sounds.

Inserting his fingers on, scissoring your gummy insides, back arching when he spotted your prostate, repeatedly poking it with his thick and long fingers, squelching, you tried to stop his hand but he barely budged, maintaining eye contact with yours.

“Nghh— Ngh—. . .Toru, pleaseee—” You choked a sob.

Gojo merely hummed, pushing his thick fingers in and out of your warm, tight hole, knuckle deep, making you throw your head back, writhing.

“Look at you clenching on my fingers like a cheap whore.” He leaned down into your ear.

You bucked your hips into his fingers on instinct. You've gone non verbal at this point, you couldn't even think straight anymore.

“Where did my smart boy go? Dick so good it melted your brain, is that it?” Gojo teased spoke lowly, coating his shaft with lube, still wet and slick from throat fucking you, he stared at your form laid bare below him, with shirt on, the moonlight shined down at you from the window, body so fuckable and lips so kissable, You're so perfect.

“What would your friends say if they saw you getting dicked down like this, hmm? The smartest student at the junior department getting bred by his senior? fuck, such a slut.”

Gojo snarled, as he leaned into your lips, slipping his pink tongue inside your mouth, sucking on your tongue, sloppily while he grips your neck, nose bumping together, he stared at you, with your blurry eyes from tears, you kept on drooling like a dumb boy you are.

“Oh. . You're really getting it tonight.” He said, taking off his glass and slipping it to you, he made you wear it.

“You look so good honey, my glasses fits you so well.” He purred, while lifting both your legs up to your head, knees bumping in your shoulders, holding it together, locked and tight, and in a snap before you could even react he slipped his thick cock inside making a loud squelch, a loud sultry moan escaped from your lips, guttural from your throat, it almost sent you to blackout, seeing stars, a single tear dripped down your cheek.

“NGHH—! too. . deeep—!!”

“Hmm? Too deep for you, bunny?” He angled his hips, tongue darting out his lips, focused, hitting the bundle of nerves inside dead on, lube and slick almost bubbling from the repeated thrusting, the sound of skin slapping making obscene delicious noises, squelching.

Pulling it out slooowly— then slamming it back in, fast and deep, his shaft now glistening from the slick and creamy sheen of cum, Gojo merely smirked, pressing the bulge forming in your soft tummy making you scream, seeing the dumb expression in your face, tongue lolling, drooling.

“Fwuuck! sooo— b-big— Nghh. . .”

The glasses in your face are now crooked from the impact, pinning you down the mattress, sweat and drool covered your face, your chest heaves.

Fuck you're so hot.

Plap! Plap! Plap!

Gojo kept on pounding you until he reached his orgasm, whimpering, shooting hot loads of cum in your creamy hole, thick white strings painted your insides, you can't feel your legs and back anymore, your neck was full of hickeys from Satoru's nipping and sucking. He's so fucking starved.

“Been wanting to fuck you for so long now, do you think you can just tease me and get away with it.” Gojo said while scooping some of his cum inside your hole with his fingers and shoving it in your mouth, you almost choke, you held on to his wrist while maintaining eye contact with me.

“Walking around our dorm half naked and you're expecting to keep my hands to myself?” Gojo knitted his eyebrows together, while he licks your stomach up to your chest, suckling to your perky nipples, you chewed on your swollen lips from kissing, Gojo's lips quirking into a sly smirk, his canines peaking out, while licking and pinching your nipples.

“Wondering if you can produce milk if I just suck it enough.” He said while he watches your face contorted into a blushingly mess.

“W-what kind nonsense are you trying to say now— Nghh—” You managed to let out almost mad, but not until Gojo rammed in his veiny cock in the snap of his hips like a warning, making you squeal.

“T'aww. . . Since when did you get to speak. Dumb boy.” He said dangerously, his irises glinted, sharp and calculated, mocking you, you whined.

“Dumb boys don't get to speak until he's told to, yes?” Gojo gave you a close eyed smile, menacingly, now manhandling you, bending you over as you tried to crouch on all fours but your legs and arms are too weak to even stand, so Gojo grabbed a nearby pillow and settled it on your chest and face.

“And dumb boys take what they can take.” Gojo trailed, admiring his view, fuck, the arch of your back just made him even more rock hard, it's pulsing at this point, from the vein, he held the of flesh of your hips, almost bruising it, then slammed his cock inside in a heartbeat, repeatedly, in and out, it filled you immediately.

Your moans are muffled by the pillow, eyes rolling at the back of your head, tears streaming down your cheeks, staining Satoru's glasses, as you hugged it tightly, you twitched, legs shaking, you felt him in your tummy, the bulbous tip almost poking out below your bellybutton.

“Fuuck—! If I only knew that you'd be this breedable then I would've fucked you in that library in the first place.” Gojo whined, catching his breath, kneading the globes of your ass, watching your hole clench, winking at him, then your mind went blank.

Your back is killing you, and your legs feel like they're going to snap off if you even try to stand and walk. Curse Satoru and his stupid breeding kink, who would've thought that the model student of the campus is such a kinky motherfucker.

-

You don't wanna think anymore, you want to just pass out at this point, I mean who watches scary movies while having an intercourse?! Just what kind of mind does this sex machine have? you missed Kiki.

Now you're riding Gojo's dick in the living room where you neglected the bowl of popcorn, when Gojo decided to fuck with you, rather literally, while watching Scream, 1996. Now that you realized it, the scenarios in that particular movie just mirrored the conversation you guys had in that phone call which genuinely concerned you, and this is your first time watching the movie.

You thought as the tip of his big dick pressed against your already abused prostate, you choked a delicious moan, while the man thrusts his hips, piercing his thick shaft inside you, skin slapping.

“NGH—! T-toruuu—”

“Tired already?” Gojo teased you, asking as if he didn't destroyed you in bed, while caressing your sides, giving your shoulders kisses, you felt the vein in your forehead irked. The audacity of this fucker.

You pull yourself up then slam it back down, catching Gojo off guard, eliciting a moan from him, and a loud squelch. Take that you bitch. Hmph.

“Fuck, baby since when did you learn that, hmm?” Gojo's irises glinted and asked lowly, slithering his bulging arms beneath your knees, lifting it up to your shoulder, legs almost touching your pretty little head.

Gojo then stood up, your back pressed against his hard, toned abs and soft pillowy pectorals, his warm breath tickling your ear, placing sloppy kisses on your neck.

Pulling his thick cock out, leaving his bulbous tip in your rim, then pounding it deep inside of you in an instant, creating the most delicious sound. It almost knocked the air out of you.

“Baby. . . You should've known better to not rile me up.” He whispered into your ear.

“Fuuuck— just look how deep I am inside of you.”

He pressed down the bulge below your bellybutton, you threw your head back to his broad shoulder, gripping hard on his bicep, whimpering and moaning, twitching and shaking.

He kept on fucking you, in long and deep strokes, pushing it deeper with every single thrust, shaping your insides into his size.

He's so fucking big, and your hole is so used and raw, you almost feel bloated from the amount of cum he pounded inside of you, thick spurts of hot creamy sheen of cum just never ends. Is he that pent up?

He keep murmuring in your ears that if he knocked you up hard enough, that'll make you pregnant, full of his kids.

He kept on kissing the every part of your being, your neck, shoulders, jaw and your temple, as if it was enough to compensate with the damages that he made.

Once you recover you'll definitely beat the shit out of him.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

“You and Matsuda-San are friends?”

That was how everyone, no matter their age, would react when you brought up Matsuda Kota casually in conversation. You were quite the persona since middle school. Going against the dress code to fit your gyaruo style. Kota, however, was quiet.

Some labeled him an ‘emo’ but he just had long black hair and mostly wore black clothing. At least that’s what he would say. His hair was so long that his bangs regularly covered his face.

You wore black clothing too—but they were often paired with bold pieces. You wore black eyeliner to make your eyes pop. It was only in university when you were able to go full out in being a gyaruo—a male version of a gyaru. Though you were on the more simple side of the aesthetic.

The full makeup and outfit took so much effort that you only did it on rare occasions. Or whenever you were in the mood to sit in front of a mirror for over an hour.

Your parents were lacking in the usual strictness that older Japanese people were known for. So you basically wild out—a stark contract to Kota whose parents were so overly strict it was concerning.

That’s probably why he spent most of his time over at your house. The two of you met in middle school. By pure accident.

You were sent to your homeroom teacher’s office for being caught with eyeliner. After a stern talking to and being shoved outside of the room with some wet wipes—you were too busy wiping your eyes to notice Kota standing in front of you.

It was only in middle school that you were taller than him. You bumped right into him, causing him to crash to the ground. His bento box spilling all over the floor.

“Woah! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” You kneeled down and carelessly began scooping up the food with your bare hands, dumping them into the bento box. “Five second—”

“I’m not eating that.” Kota rudely interrupted you.

You blinked, finally glancing up to look at him. He had an ugly bowl cut and thick rimmed glasses that looked too big for his face.

“Pfft—!”

Your lips clamped shut as you quickly covered your mouth. Eyes wide while Kota’s narrowed.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing. You look ridiculous too.”

Kota huffed. He roughly grabbed his bento box from your hand and walked away. You stood up and looked to your left, seeing your reflection in the window.

He was right.

The makeup was all smudge—giving you perfect raccoon eyes. A laugh left your lips. It was honestly a look. You rushed after Kota and wrapped your arm around his neck. He grunted and tried to push you off but you used your height to rest your chin on his head.

“Since we both look ridiculous, we should hang out!”

Kota groaned. “What are you—?”

“My name is Togami (Name). But you can call me (Name), no one calls me Togami.”

“We just met, why—”

“Because it’s sooo boring. My name is so much better than Togami. Don’t you agree?”

“Well—”

“Anyway, what’s your name?”

“Matsuda Kota, why—”

“Can I call you Kota?”

“Are you going to keep interrupting me??” Kota yelled out, stopping you both in your tracks. You stared down at him before grinning slyly.

“Sorry, Kota-kun~ keep talking, keep talking. I think I really like you!”

“I didn’t give you permission—”

“Lunch’s almost over! Hurry, we don’t want to be late for class!”

“I said stop interrupting me!”

The rest was history. Which led to where you are now. University. You were able to dress up more and didn’t have to worry about getting in trouble with teachers for a little bit of eyeliner.

You and Kota decided to rent an apartment together. With your parents' help mostly. They were retired and had a decent amount of savings. Kota paid for everything else that your parents didn’t cover. You were just there to decorate the apartment.

Kota really didn’t care about that type of stuff. His bedroom was bare. Really bare. It looked exactly how it looked before you both moved in. The decoration he had in there was from you. Though he rarely allowed you in his room.

The apartment was covered in a lot of furry furniture. Black, brown, and gold. Leopard print… it was a mess but also somehow worked for the chaotic vibe you were going for. Your bedroom was the only real mess.

In any case, you and Kota lived together fairly well. Despite everyone being shocked that the two of you were even friends. You were outgoing and nice–Kota was quiet and a little bit rude. Everyone called you by your first name… no one but you could call Kota by his first name.

It actually got you into hot water once with Kota.

“You can call me (Name), I don’t mind!” You proudly said, grinning at your clubmate. You and Kota joined the photography club to kill some time. The club was meeting at a restaurant as a way to get to know everyone.

Everyone said their introduction. Kota’s was as bland as ever while you were practically bursting with excitement. You were sitting beside some guy–you couldn’t remember his name–and was telling him that he didn’t have to be formal with you.

A loud clink of glass hitting the table startled everyone even with the bustling sounds of people excitedly chatting. Eyes were all on Kota. His beer glass had a small crack on the bottom, the yellow beer slowly seeping free all over the table. He calmly grabbed some napkins and dabbed at the liquid.

“Uh, waiter!” The club leader waved someone down and pointed to the pointed glass.

You only watched Kota, blinking as he seemed to not even react to anything. Not when the waiter carefully took away the glass. Not as a few other clubmates wiped away the mess. Not when a new beer glass was placed in front of Kota.

Kota only grabbed a skewer of meat from the shared plate in the center of the table. He took a small bite, his gaze not even flickering over to you. It took a minute before everyone began to talk like normally, as if nothing happened.

As soon as the club leader had mentioned that everyone should start heading home–you were roughly grabbed by the arm and tugged to stand up. Everyone watched in silence as Kota grabbed your coat and backpack without a word.

He draped your coat around your body, buttoning it without allowing you to properly put it on. Your arms were restricted but he didn’t seem to care. Kota nodded his head at everyone, wrapping an arm around your waist and guided you outside.

“Kota. Kota, I can’t move my arms,” you tried to push your arms through the sleeves but Kota kept pulling you forward. His hand tightening his grip on the curve of your hip. “Kota!”

He hummed. “Does everyone need to call you by your first name?” His words suddenly stop you in your tracks. It was only now that he actually stopped as well. You both were far from the restaurant by now.

“I let everyone do that.” You muttered, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

“Where… is this coming from?”

Kota looked you in the eye. There looked to be something there… the need to say something. Something that could possibly change things. But he only shook his head.

“Forget it.” He removed his hand from your waist, finally allowing you to properly wear your coat. You follow behind him as you slip the coat into place. His words swirled around in your head but you didn’t say anything.

You still allowed people to call you by your first name. At least the people you had already allowed to but for some reason, anyone new had to call you by your last name.

Nothing was said. It just happened.

But you couldn’t forget the one time Kota had overheard you introducing yourself to a new member of the photography club.

“Hi, I’m Togami (Name). You can call me Togami or Toga!” You said, smiling wide as you excitedly shook their hand. Your gaze flickered to Kota who was standing right beside you and his expression was pure smug.

A small smirk tugged on his lips. Big enough that even another member noticed and asked Kota what he was thinking about to smile like that.

Kota only hummed. “Nothing.”

That was really the only time Kota had ever been mean towards you. Or at least angry. Afterwards he didn’t use any force on you again. Which really made you wonder what upset him that badly.

But you never brought it up again.

“If you want at least a B, you’ll need to get an 80% on the final exam, Togami-San.”

You groaned, rubbing at your face. Your grades in college were decent. Could be better but decent. Your parents were just happy you weren’t flunking. The fact you even went to college surprised them and your entire family.

It wasn’t like you didn’t care but you didn’t go above and beyond like others. You studied like twice a week. Each time before an exam you studied a bit and somehow that allowed you to continuously get Bs and A minuses.

Good enough. Some would kill for that.

However your studying method was proving to be useless for one class. The one class where you had your first ever D.

Organic chemistry.

Now why are you taking organic chemistry?

Well because you’re dumb.

Dumb enough to not realize that you signed up for the wrong class until it was too late and you had to continue taking it. You were a literature major! Why would you ever need organic chemistry?

“It’s okay, (Name)-Chan~” Hinata, your classmate, gave you a wide grin. “Maybe you should do tutoring.”

“Tutoring?” Another one of your classmates chirped in, Genki. He was a fellow gyaruo who put more effort into everyday makeup in comparison to you. A true legend. “What (Name) needs is a miracle.”

Hinata rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it worse. You’ll stress him out. I know someone who took organic chemistry as a freshman and actually passed with a 99%!”

“99%? Woah,” Genki’s mouth dropped while you perked up at her claim. “How—? That professor is strict. How'd that kid pass?”

“Don’t know but he was even the teacher assistant last year. He’s good, really good. But he doesn’t just tutor anyone.” Hinata turned her gaze over to you. “You might have to really beg for it.”

You frowned, “beg…? Ah, it can’t be helped. I’m not failing that final exam!” There was no way you’d let this class ruin your semi perfect record of As and Bs. “Where can I find him?”

“He’s an engineering major! My friend said he’s currently a teacher assistant for engineering 101, class should be ending right now. Go stop him before he leaves!”

The thought of having to beg some stranger to hopefully pass your class was a little stressful. Technically your whole life was up to this one dude.

And judging by how Hinata had described him—he wasn’t exactly the helping type.

He already reminded you of Kota.

Ah, Kota.

A giddy smile pulled on your lips at the thought of him. It’s already been three years of living with him and you had begun to realize you had a crush on him. Nothing serious at the moment but it certainly was something.

You found yourself doing more things for him. Making him lunch or dinner. He wasn’t a breakfast person so you never forced that. Two days ago you even bought him a leather jacket that reminded you of him. Though you still haven’t given it to him yet.

You’ve given him things before. Especially not an expensive leather jacket. It was around ¥291,500. Nothing cheap at all. But it was real leather with fluffy fur around the collar.

Perfect for winter that was right around the corner.

Thinking about Kota, you began wondering what you should make him for dinner. You stood outside the classroom door just as students began to walk out.

“(Name).”

“Kota?” You blinked, looking over to see Kota standing right beside you. Your head tilted as you blinked. “You’re taking this class as a junior?”

Kota fixed the strap of his bag as he raised an eyebrow. “I’m the teaching assistant.”

“Ah!”

Well looks like luck was on your side after all.

You grinned and rushed to his side, grasping his arm with your hands. “Kotaaaa~”

Kota only hummed and looked down at you. The height difference wasn’t by much. Your head was the perfect height to rest on his shoulders—which you constantly took advantage of.

“Can you tutor me? In organic chemistry? I heard you passed the class and I need to get an 80% on the final exam to even pass the class. Please, please, please—”

“Sure.” He interrupted you.

You blinked.

That was really easy.

Well, getting him to tutor you was easy but he wasn’t an easy tutor at all.

“If you can’t even memorize this then don’t even bother showing up to take the exam.”

“Kotaaaa.”

“Try again.”

It had only been a week and you were pooped. Kota didn’t let up. Each day after dinner, you’d spend almost two hours sitting at the dining table as he tutored you. No breaks, no days off.

And yes you were certainly learning and retaining information… but you were also tired.

“67%,” he said, placing the mock final exam he made you take on the table after grading it. Despite his rough tone—you knew he was semi happy about your progress in just one week. “I’ll test you again next week.”

You sighed. Better than nothing. You used to get 20-30% on the exams. This was an improvement.

Kota cleaned up the dining table while you placed your head on the table. You were only going to close your eyes for a second. But soon you found yourself in bed. Hands tugging up your shirt.

“Kota?” You groggily whined, placing your hand over his. His hand was larger than yours. He stopped what he was doing and leaned away a bit.

“You’re awake?” He asked. You felt his hand slipping away but you quickly tightened your grip. With sluggish movements, you tugged his hand up, making him gently cup your face.

He didn’t stop you nor did he say anything. If you weren’t struggling to even stay awake, you would’ve noticed his thumb gently rubbing circles on your cheek.

“I got something for you.” You whispered.

“Like what? Is it a thanks for tutoring you?”

You weakly shook your head. “No. It’s…” your voice trailed off, eyes struggling to stay open. “It’s just for you. Because I like you. It’s underneath my bed.”

“Don’t fall asleep.” He gently tapped your cheek. “You still have makeup on.”

“I like you… didn’t you hear me?”

“Mhm.” Was all he said in response.

The rest of that moment was a blur. You remembered feeling makeup remover wipes on your face. Kota grabbed the box from underneath your bed but he didn’t open it in front of you. Your eyes were basically closed by then.

He whispered something and then you were fast asleep.

Another two weeks passed. It was uneventful. Kota continued tutoring you and you made significant progress. Your little puppy crush was beginning to grow by the minute. Especially now that you two were spending most nights together.

You didn’t have to ask about the jacket because not even a day later you saw him wearing it. It made you so giddy that you almost laughed right in front of Kota. Luckily you managed to hold it in.

Despite organic chemistry being the worst class you’ve ever taken—you certainly had to thank it for allowing you the opportunity to be near Kota for such long hours.

However there was something you began to notice.

Kota didn’t allow you in his bedroom.

At first you didn’t notice because well it’s not like he comes into yours. You both were close but still wanted the bedrooms to be your own personal space. But now that you two were studying together for a long period of time… you and Kota would sometimes study in your bedroom.

It was a mess, obviously, but Kota didn’t seem to mind.

But it was like his room was off limits before you could ever ask.

Nothing was wrong with that per se… at least at first. Until you finally realize it when Kota always keeps his door locked. The door was always closed and even locked sometimes.

That’s strange, right?

Was he hiding something?

What would someone like Kota have to hide? He’s such a normal guy at the end of the day. You were the one that had more to hide but your day was basically left wide open at all times. Even when you were changing.

Like right now.

You slipped on your boxers, yawning. The thought of looking for some pajamas felt like a hassle. Your body was tired and even struggling to stand up straight.

“Where did I put it…” you whispered mostly to yourself, rubbing your shirtless chest. It was certainly a sight to behold. Your makeup was only semi cleaned off, your eyeliner was being stubborn and your lips were stained from left over lipstick. It’s kind of why you never wear lipstick that often.

It always stained your lips.

Just like your clothes, your pajamas were also heavily influenced by gyaruo clothing. You even dabbled a bit in more feminine pajamas. Simply only because male pajamas were boring half the time.

You knelt down and grabbed your silk shirt. It was plain black but felt nice to sleep in. “Pants… where’s my pants?” You spun around, now facing the doorway when you finally noticed that you weren’t alone.

Kota was watching.

He looked like he had just finished taking a shower. Hair still damped while the towel laid around his neck. An old beaten up white t-shirt and black sweatpants. His bangs covered his right eye entirely.

You gulped. Your own semi nudity was the last thing on your mind. Just the fact of seeing Kota in clothes that didn’t cover his body entirely. Nothing baggy that hid his muscles. You were allowed to see everything.

Almost everything.

Your bottom lip caught between your teeth. You didn’t even realize just how bad you were ogling him. Though it seemed to be mutual when you glanced up at his face.

Kota was staring at you. Really staring at you. His gaze flickering from your thighs to your chest. You still hadn’t slipped the shirt on yet.

Feeling yourself heat up from his strong gaze, you slipped the silk shirt on. That finally broke the spell as Kota quickly looked away. He began quickly drying his hair.

You finally found your pants, right near your dirty hamper. They were actually shorts. A matching pair to the shirt. You stepped into them and it was basically the same length as your tight boxers. These were one of your more feminine pajamas.

“Well,” you spoke, blinking slightly as you glanced over at Kota. “Uhh,” your lips pursed together. Hands wringing together. “Can I ask you something, Kota?”

He hummed. His eyes still focusing on anything but you.

“Can we… maybe study in your room one day?”

That caught his attention. His eyes snapping over to you. “Why?”

You froze. This was probably one of the first times Kota ever pushed back against a request of yours. Usually you could just say one word and he’d do it without hesitation. Not even asking why you want to do a certain thing.

It wasn’t always like that—that behavior didn’t start until high school.

“Oh well…” your voice trailed off. There was technically no reason. Or really any good reason. “Uhm, I just… want to change the environment.”

“We can study at the library.”

“Kota.” A pout on your lips. “I don’t wanna. I like being at home.”

“Then we can study on the balcony.”

That did sound nice.

You sighed. “Then… if I pass with an 89% can I celebrate in your bedroom?”

Kota raised an eyebrow. His face was neutral but you could tell he was getting agitated. The slight twitch in his upper lip, the way his grip tightened on the towel. “89%? That’s high.”

“Yeah, so if I do that good, then you have to grant my wish.”

“Why do you want to do that? Be in my room so badly?”

You were nosy, that was certainly the main reason.

But instead of saying that…

You said, “because I want to be in your scent.”

Which, in hindsight, was one of the stupidest things you had ever said.

I want to be in your scent? What did that even mean?

It was one of the strangest things you’ve ever said. And you were known for being weird to Kota.

Oh well—you couldn’t dwell on it too much because to your shock, you did it.

“How??” Hinata and Genki stared at the final exam paper in shock. There, written in bright red ink, was the percentage 90. You had done better than you had even thought was possible.

You simply smirked. “I managed to get that tutor you told me about.” Was all you said before heading straight home.

Kota was home, luckily enough. You had bought some take out and a case of beer. A smug smile on your lips as you walked over to where he was sitting on the couch.

He closed his book as soon as he saw you. His gaze solely focused on you. Your cheeks felt a little hot from his gaze but you straightened your posture. You placed the food and drinks on the center table.

“I took the exam.” You reached into your bag, excitedly pulling the exam paper out. The paper was folded as you handed it over to him. He took it, you excitedly sat down beside him and inched close, wanting to see his exact expression once he saw your score.

Kota opened the paper and despite the fact his face didn’t move an inch, you could tell he was proud. “Amazing.” He simply said, placing the paper on the center table. “How do you want to celebrate?”

You pursed your lips, eyes looking to where Kota’s bedroom was located. There was nothing else that needed to be said. Kota got the hint immediately.

Kota’s bedroom was the exact same as you remembered. The last time you had seen it in its full glory was maybe a month after you both moved in. To say it had no personality was an understatement.

It didn’t feel lived in if it weren’t for his studying material all over his desk. You plopped down on his bed as he sat at his desk, placing the items you brought on the surface. He glanced over at you with an unamused expression.

“This is all you wanted to see?”

You eagerly nodded your head. “Well yes.”

“You’re weird.” He opened a bottle of beer with a bottle opener. “Enjoy my scent.”

Your cheeks felt hot.

Kota’s room really was uneventful. He didn’t even have a tv. You stuck to watching something on your phone. About an hour or two passed when Kota excused himself to the bathroom.

You only huffed and moved to rest more comfortably on the bed when you felt something poke your back. It felt like a notebook. Underneath his pillow was a small little notebook—a diary was your first thought.

Now, did you originally plan to snoop around Kota’s room? No, you did not.

But now that you had the opportunity to possibly read his diary were you going to miss it?

No.

While you might be able to understand Kota’s expressions after spending so many years with him—it was too tempting to be able to read about his thoughts.

𓂃 𝖨 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗎𝗉 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖨 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗐’𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖼𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖨 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝗂𝗆

What?

𓂃 𝖧𝗈𝗐 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗃𝖺𝗆𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝖿𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗌 𝗆𝖾? 𝖧𝖾’𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗏𝖾, 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖽𝗎𝗆𝖻, 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖽𝗎𝗆𝖻

Who was he talking about? Jealousy bubbled deep within you. Who was lucky enough to be the object of Kota’s affection? It wasn’t like he talked to many people that weren’t you.

𓂃 𝖨 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖨’𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾, 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗆—𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗀𝗈𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀

“What are you doing?”

You gasped as the diary was roughly ripped from your hands. It was there you came face to face with an overly pissed Kota. A first. The last time you ever saw Kota this angry, his face actually showing the full emotion, was back in middle school.

Your stomach began to twist into knots. The idea of angering Kota this much hadn’t even crushed your mind. Sure you were pushy sometimes but you never wanted to ever make him feel this way.

It was silent. Your mind raced a mile a minute. But nothing left your lips.

Kota let out a humorless laugh. Another first. He stared down at you. “Are you weirded out?”

“Huh?” A soft gasp left your lips. Your eyes flickering up to stare at him. He towered over you. You sat on your knees on the bed.

He waved the diary. “You read what was in this.” His voice sharp. “You’re weirded out, right? You want me to leave don’t you?”

“Why—? Why would I want that?” You quickly moved to stand up but Kota grabbed your shoulder and shoved you back down. It should’ve upset you that he put his hands on you but you felt your cock twitch in your pants.

“Stop acting dumb.” He carelessly tossed the diary behind him. His eyes never left you. The intensity in his eyes scared you but also made you incredibly horny. Who knew he could act like this? “You read it, you saw what I wanted to do. Degrade, feminize, and dumbify—you saw it, didn’t you? Don’t spare my feelings.”

You quickly shook your head. “I wouldn’t… I wouldn't judge what you… do in your free time.”

Kota froze. He raised an eyebrow before leaning further down. You leaned back until your back bumped into the wall, effectively caging you in.

Your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it. You clamped your legs together. Why was this actually doing something for you?

“How did you get that 90% on the exam?” He finally spoke.

“Huh?”

“You. I want to degrade you.” His hands pressed on either side of the wall, gaze harsh. “I want to make you pretty, only to ruin you for anyone else. Who else would I ever want to see naked beneath me?”

“…huh…? Kota…?”

Kota sighed. “I’ll move out as soon as possible.” Was all he said as he began to pull away.

“Wait—!” You grabbed his shirt and tugged him back towards you. The force causing him to accidentally bump his nose against yours. “Ow,” a whine left your lips but you quickly pushed through the pain. “Why… why are you going to leave me?”

“Did you not understand a word that I said?” Kota responded, his tone exasperated.

“I did. I did and I don’t mind. I like you! Didn’t you know that? I told you…”

Kota tilted his head. His gaze focused solely on you. “You always tell me that you like me. Was I supposed to believe that one time was different?”

You frowned. “Well I did mean it differently. I meant that I like like you.”

“You like like me?”

“Mhm.”

Kota laughed. You were seeing a whole new side to him. “Do you like me enough to let me do whatever I want to you?” He asked, his voice deep. There were simple words but somehow they felt heavy in your chest. It didn’t feel like it was a simple easy thing to agree to.

He seemed mad but not that mad that you thought he would’ve been. It felt different. A scary different. But not scary enough that you didn’t nod your head in agreement to his words.

“I need to hear a yes.” He said.

“…Yes.” You whispered. “I really like you.”

For the first time ever, Kota’s lips pulled into a wide smirk.

Your cock twitched at the sight.

You would’ve never expected that Kota would be the kinky type. Honestly you ever really expected that he’d be into sex… or anyone really. He didn’t seem like the type. It’s why you didn’t expect anything to happen from your feelings.

But here you were, hands tied together above your head with Kota’s belt. Undressed—your boxers being the only clothes you were allowed left.

Kota didn’t say anything at first. He had silently tied your wrists together, manhandling you to rest on the bed. His hands gripped your skin. It felt harsh and rough but it didn’t scare you.

“Kota…” You whispered.

He was silently taking in your body. His hand slowly tracing up and down. As his hand reached your inner thigh—you let out a gasp. Your legs clamped together as your cheeks heat up and feel hot to the touch.

“Kota… are you mad?”

“No,” he answered. His hand squeezed your thigh before he reached his other hand and grasped your other leg. He easily parted your legs open, it happened so fast you didn’t even register it until your legs touched the bed.

Kota sighed. His gaze flickered up to look you in the eye. “I’m not going to do everything I ever wanted.” He said. That somehow disappointed you. “I don’t want to rush this… not now.”

“Rush?”

“(Name),” he whispered your name as if he was worshipping you like a God. So soft and tender though his eyes held a certain hunger that made your stomach clench. “I’ve always wanted you to cry on my cock—letting your makeup mess up your face.”

“Really?” You couldn’t help but grin. “Is that why whenever you saw me with my makeup a mess, you’d get quiet?”

Kota didn’t respond. He moved to sit between your legs. “When we moved in together, I thought I’d have to deal with you bringing in random people to have sex… or maybe even get a boyfriend. How lucky am I that you aren’t able to date anyone?”

“Hey, I was single on purpose!”

“Sure.”

You frowned but before you could say anything else Kota pushed your legs forward. A strained grunt left your lips. The stretch was a little unnatural—not a position you’ve ever done before.

“Since it’s our first time, I’ll be nice. Okay?”

“You’re a virgin?” You muttered, blinking slightly.

“Aren’t you?”

“Ah,” you quickly looked away, biting your bottom lip. “Not… exactly.”

It was silent.

Too silent.

“Kota…?”

The sound of fabric tearing caused you to cry out in shock. You looked over to see Kota focused solely on your legs. Your boxers were torn open, the cool air teasing your hole. Embarrassment shot through your body when you realized Kota would have a perfect view of a certain something in your ass.

Finally, your little secret was revealed.

“(Name)…” Kota chuckled, his voice deep. His index finger circled around your sensitive rim. Your body shook from the touch. “Is this a butt plug?”

So, it wasn’t as if you expected sex today. You had just wanted to be a little… adventurous today. After your exam you had actually come home first before going back out to buy the food and beer. Just for fun.

It was a small plug. Only stretched you a little bit to where you could feel it if you shifted just right. But other than that it didn’t feel like anything was inside you.

Really the only thing you expected tonight was using your dildo late at night as you imagined Kota fucking you instead. Luck was really on your side today.

“Did you wear this all day? Even when you took your exam?” Kota grasped the edge of the plug, slowly tugging it out. You gasped—tugging at the restraints around your wrists. “Did you masturbate like a pervert, hoping no one would notice you rocking in the chair, trying to focus on the exam while making sure the plug hit your prostate?”

With a simple shift, the tip of the plug pressed directly on your prostate. A loud moan left your throat. You wanted to tell him that he was wrong. That he was making stuff up. Degrading you.

But the continuous, slow rub against your prostate took over your thoughts. All you could focus on was gasping and moaning in response. Nothing else could escape your lips. Your cock twitched. It was still covered inside your tight boxers.

“Kota,” you mewled.

“Such a slut. Is that why you’re so flashy?” He asked, pressing down on your prostate. “You want everyone’s attention on you. Not just your looks but also from your sex appeal? So perverted, Togami (Name).”

You sniffled. Your wrists tried to break free from the belt but somehow it was wrapped tightly. You could only bring your hands down to try and cover your face from Kota’s intense stare.

“Am I not enough?” Kota moved up, his body now towering over you. His free hand grasped your wrists and tugged your arms to rest above your head once more. “Do you need everyone else’s attention? I’m not enough for you?”

You quickly shook your head. The words escaped you—only broken wet moans leaving your parted lips.

“Fine.” An almost pained laugh left Kota. “They can look…” he leaned down, his breath teasing your face. “But you’ll always be mine. Only I can see you, touch you, and ruin you, do you understand?”

Kota pulled back when you didn’t respond. His glare sharp as he roughly pulled the butt plug out. He tossed it behind himself. “Answer me with words.”

“Mhm, ngh,” you nodded your head. It was hard to speak, your throat was already dry. You haven’t even been fucked yet and you already felt tired. “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

You let out a shuddered moan. Your legs wrapping around Kota’s waist. It felt so sinful for you to be practically nude while Kota was still dressed. He was wearing a black sweater and black pants—his usual winter clothing.

“You’re perfect for me, (Name)… I don’t even need to prepare you.” Kota unbuttoned his pants. His gaze focused solely on you. “I won’t be nice. I’m going to fuck you and if you manage to cum, good. If not…” his voice trailed off.

The thought that he wasn’t even going to try and make sure you would come too. To just use you for his own pleasure… made your whole body shiver.

Shit, you were really learning new things about yourself.

Kota was never known for being particularly nice. Sure he did nice things for you but that never meant he wasn’t a little rude to you still. Even if you were his favorite person. He had no issue degrading you. And it was shocking to yourself that you didn’t mind it at all.

He didn’t fuck you nice and slow. He didn’t slowly ease inside you or anything like that. Your hole was still dripping from the lube and allowed for a semi easy entrance. Though his cock was bigger than your small butt plug.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. The stretch felt otherworldly. Kota grasped your face, pushing your head down into the pillow as he began thrusting in an easy rhythm.

The slap of skin filled the room. Your gasps and moans came out in rough staccato. Toes curling as you bite your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

“K-Kota…” you cried out.

Kota pushed your head further into the pillow as his thrusts began to pick up speed. He was unforgiving—obviously chasing his own orgasm. True to his words he didn’t aim for your prostate nor did he touch your cock.

He was fucking you got his own pleasure.

“Mhm?” He grunted out. His thumb brushing against your lips, pushing them apart. “Does it feel good? Are you enjoying yourself?”

Each thrust sent a shock throughout your body. The sound of skin slapping, bed creaking from each thrust into your tight heat. It was sending you into a frenzy. You could’ve sworn that he was purposely avoiding your prostate. Just barely teasing it to cause a shiver in your body before ignoring it once more.

It was degrading. He was treating you like a toy.

You smiled slightly, eyes glancing up at Kota. He was a sight to behold. His eyes almost fully covered from his long bangs. He was sweating but still hadn’t made the effort to take off his sweater.

The jeans rubbed against your ass, chafing the skin. You’d certainly cry about it later but now it only served to make you moan. Every little thing he did that only served to please himself and not you… made your toes curl.

“Hey,” Kota cut in. “I asked if you’re enjoying it?” His voice deep and held an air of dominance.

A strained laugh left you, punched out in tandem with a particularly harsh thrust that almost sent you hitting the headboard. Your bottom lip was cut. A little bit of blood coated both lips and some on your teeth.

“Yeah,” you breathed out. Your eyes struggled to stay open, fingers curling to grip the pillow beneath you for a sense of purchase. “Love it so much.” An almost exasperated laugh left you.

Kota’s thrusts slowed down. His grip on your face almost loosened. He certainly didn’t expect such an answer from you. The willingness to accept his behavior as if it was a normal thing. A thing that you readily craved and enjoyed.

A perverted smirk pulled on his lips.

It was one of the widest smirks you’ve ever seen from him. With his eyes practically hidden behind his bangs—his smirk was the only thing you could use as a way to see what he was thinking. With that smile alone you knew he was happy.

Proud even.

This… was exactly what he wanted.

And how lucky was he that you wanted it just like him.

The last of his thrusts were almost cruel. He positioned his hips so his cock would tease your prostate. Barely a touch that was enough to even count as anything. You almost cried at the teasing—it was too much.

Your cock was weeping in your boxers. But you didn’t beg for Kota to start pleasuring you as well. No you enjoyed how he was fucking you. This was too fun. Better than anything you could’ve originally imagined.

Kota released his grip on your face, both hands reaching to grab your waist. He held your body still against the bed. Keeping you still as he delivered his last, harsh, heavy hitting thrusts into your ass. Each thrust earning a loud accompanying cry from you.

Hot wet cum released inside you. The fact that he didn’t even ask if he could only made you shivered in delight. A weak gasp left you. Kota spanked your ass as he pulled out. The cum slowly seeping out of your hole.

“You look beautiful like this.” Kota hummed, “next time I want to see you in full makeup when I fuck you.” He said. He grabbed your boxers, tugging them off when he stopped.

A soft humorless laugh left him.

“You actually came?”

Two fingers touched the lower half of your stomach. White cum leaking from your cock. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. You didn’t expect that this would lead you to cumming in your boxers.

But here you were.

“Of course a slut like you would come untouched.” Kota leaned over you, gently freeing your wrists from the belt. He captured your lips into a hungry kiss—not allowing you to take any sense of control.

You didn’t fight it.

You enjoyed it all.

To be completely, unfiltered, absolutely and a hundred percent truthful,

Yuuji can be kind of scary like this.

Scary-- scary when he's focused, and calculated, and so insanely devoted and concentrated on something that nothing can stop him. In any other scenario you would've been less afraid, maybe more-so-appalled, giggle, and give him some sort of sweet treat or maybe simple affection as a reward later on for working so diligently on something.

But in this scenario, with Yuuji between your spread legs, thick, callused fingers dragging against the gummy slick walls of your hole, with his free hand expertly stroking up and down and up and down the shaft of your cock, it's a bit hard (no pun intended) not to be scared.

"Yu-uji, s'-- knock it off, s'not g-gonna... nuthin's gunna..."

"Shhh,"

Yuuji gently kisses the tips of his fingers against your swollen sweet spot, a small groan fluttering from his lips as he watches your spine bow and your toes curl.

"I got this. Y'don't believe me, baby?" His words come out slurred and hot, mingling with the sounds of your moans and whines. "Have I ever failed you when it comes t'..."

Yuuji presses a warm, sloppy, wet kiss to the sensitive tip of your cock, practically making out with the poor swollen thing before sucking hard, then pulling off with a filthy slurp followed by a loud 'pop!'.

"...makin' you feel good? Hm? Baby? My baby?"

All you can do in response is whine. Yuuji isn't wrong, and you both know this. It's just...

A few hours ago, everything was perfectly fine. You guys hadn't had sex in a few days, and besides getting handsy here and there, Yuuji seemed fine. In absolute mint condition, if anything. And then, miraculously, he just happened to scroll across some stupid reddit post talking about men squirting. And instead of behaving like any rational person, and just continuing to read through the strings of posts and comments, he just immediately decides that using you as his personal guinea pig is the best course of action.

So, you've been sitting here, legs forced open over the width of Yuuji's shoulders, fluttering hole stuffed with fingers with your poor cock forced to come for what's been maybe the fourth time tonight. in the past hour and a half.

You've tried everything just to try and get a break. You've squirmed, you've kicked, you've cried, you've tried to physically get up off the bed and crawl away, but nothing seems to work. It's just... nothing seemed to get through that thick skull of his.

You can't say you'd like to completely stop, but a break... a break would be nice.

While he's so dead set on making you squirt, you're adamant nothing is going to happen.

You let your head drop back, hips jerking and rolling uncontrollably when he angles his fingers and thrusts right into your prostate, his other hand wrapped around the base of your cock-- rough thumbpad gently petting the seam of your balls.

"Hm."

You let your eyes flutter shut, letting out a little moan of relief when Yuuji's free hand gently releases your cock. Your hips buck at the loss of stimulation, but ultimately, you're relieved. You let your thighs open wide and fall lax, unbothered to how absolutely debauched and utterly lewd you might look from Yuuji's point of view. Not that he'd care, anyways.

Lidded eyes watch the way your puffy rim swallows up the thick of his fingers, drooling and soft and oh-so-warm-- and, suddenly,

Yuuji gets an idea.

"Baby... baby," Yuuji practically purrs. Hesitantly, you lift your head to look down at him.

"'Need y'to be really, really good for me, okay? yeah?"

Yuuji tuts and coos when you drop your head back with a whine, thighs trembling and beginning to shut before he wrenches them open again.

"Oh, don't be like that, babe. S'just... just sit still, and I'll make you feel really good, okay? really good. Jus'..."

Yuuji doesn't wait for a reply-- instead, he spreads your thighs wide for easier access, slips his digits in just right and angles them so they dip against the soft of your sweet spot, and settles the thumb of his free hand against the silky skin of your perineum. Your cock twitches and jerks, dribbles of precome swelling at the tip in little pretty pearls.

He starts with light little taps, then small, tight circles-- then lastly, progresses to firm but gentle up and down petting motions against your perineum-- a weird, indescribably good feeling coiling deep in your gut and causing you to squirm. Meanwhile, his fingers lavish attention on your sweet spot from the inside as well, causing that same delicious feeling to intensify what feels like a thousand times more.

it feels so weird.

You try to buck away from the feeling but Yuuji just shushes you and applies a fraction more of pressure, not letting you escape the onslaught of weird, weird, so fucking weird but undeniably good sensation.

... Suddenly, another odd... but new sensation settles. Not in your tummy this time, but in your bladder.

"Yuu-- Yuuji, Yuuji--"

"Hmm?"

"G-Get it out-- get them o-out, need'ta, need t'pee, I th-ink, need--"

"No, no, sweetheart. You don't need to pee. S'not pee. It's working, you're close. S'okay, jus' let it happen, 'kay?"

Yuuji leans forwards to kiss you, his eyes fluttering shut, but you crane your neck away before he can land a successful kiss-- which, he grumbles at.

"I'm s-serious Yuuji, I ne-ed to pee, m'not fuckin' a-around--"

"Shut up n' listen to me, baby,"

And you do. Save for the occasional incoherent whines and cries.

So you sit there and take it. Just... just take it, despite this overwhelming pressure in your bladder, despite the waves of pleasure rolling off your spine, despite the over sensitivity of your hole and your cock and your body just begging for a break.

And you're so distracted by your own thoughts that when you do (finally fucking) squirt, it hits you hard. Really hard.

With a mangled shout your body curls in on itself, hands scrambling for Yuuji's shoulders as you try to force him away from you-- yet, he keeps up his gentle ministrations alllll the way through your orgasm.

It's like-- It's like that pressure in your bladder releases itself in a way that feels so fucking good, your sloppy, messy hole fluttering and clenching tight around his still pumping fingers, the muscles in your tummy tightening and contracting in such a satisfying way as you experience what doesn't feel... quite like an orgasm, but something different, and just as intense.

Something wet, something clear, but not quite as thick and sticky as come, but not pee-- shoots from your cock in messy spurts, soaking Yuuji's wrist and the sheets and leaving a little puddle on your tummy.

"O-Oh fuck, fu-uck--"

"Told you that'd feel good, hm?"

Gasping and heaving, you barely manage the beginnings of a sentence before your eyes flutter shut and you immediately pass out.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He lifted you up just enough to align his cock to your puckered, twitching hole, rolling his hips upwards just enough to feel the tight ring of muscle start to stretch.

“H- Hhn,” your breath hitched as his dick sunk inside that velvet heat inch by inch.

“Fucking shit..” he suddenly groaned.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hiding your face against his neck. You lift your hips and slowly start to bounce on his cock.

“Mmh, Mark..” you moaned, warm breath tickling his skin.

His hips buck upward, meeting your descent with a sharp slap of flesh against flesh. “You feel.. so good. Just like that.”

One of his hands treks down to your ass, gripping it roughly as he uses your flesh to guide your movements—forcing you to take more of his cock with each grind downward.

“N- Nnghh— aah,” you whimper, biting down on his neck.

The squelches and slaps of skin echo through the room, punctuated by your moans and his grunts.

With a sharp gasp, Sinister hilts deep inside you, his cock throbbing as it pumps hot, sticky semen into your ass. You almost yelp, roughly biting down on his flesh to which he yanks you off his lap.

“Ugh..” he clicks his tongue as he drags his fingertips over the deep marks on his neck. “Y’know.. biting is my thing.”

—

Sinister purred when you laid on your back, lifting both your legs up, knees bumping your shoulders—practically folded in half.

He's still rock hard, not a single sign of him softening after his first orgasm. And the new angle allows him to sink even deeper into you.

You feel so incredibly full, stuffed to the brim with his pulsing cock.

He starts to roll his hips, sawing his thick shaft in and out of your stretched, slick hole.

“A- Aahh— Maaark!”

“What would, ngh, your Mark think if he saw you like this?”

“D- Don’t talk about him right now!”

He snickered lowly as angled his hips, hitting your prostate inside dead on.

“Mmmhh—“ You whined loudly, eyes glazed over.

Sinister pulls out slooowly then slams his cock back in with sharp thrusts.

Your noises got louder—panting, gasping, moaning. You weren’t even trying to hide your pleasure.

The creaking of the bed frame fills the room as he fucks into you wildly. His heavy balls slap against your ass with each vicious thrust.

“Aah! U- Uuuf.. ohhh, Mark!!”

You were practically seeing stars—nothing has ever felt this good before. “I- I need to— mmphh, cum.”

You let out shaky pants, eyebrows knitting together in overwhelming sensation, legs starting to shiver. “Fuckfuck…”

Sinister groaned at the sight.

He reaches down with his free hand, finding your dripping erection. He wraps his fingers around it roughly, stroking you in time with his thrusts. His thumb swipes over the sensitive head, smearing the leaking precum around.

“Cum for me. Don’t try to hold it in.”

With a deep, final thrust, he slams into you and grinds against your prostate. His hand squeezes your throbbing cock.

Your entire body seizes up, hole fluttering and clenching around him as you came—cum spurting from your aching dick in thin rivulets.

“S- Shit, Mark!” You practically yelp, looking up at him with the most pathetic eyes he’s ever seen. More pathetic than the many people he’s killed.

He lets your legs down and scoots back a few inches. “You good?”

“Uh, mhm.” You nod, slowly moving to sit up.

“Wait.”

“..What?”

“I want to keep fucking you.”

You blink slowly.

“..Please?” He tilts his head slightly.

You let out a heavy sigh and lay back down.

—

His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back against him.

He admires the new view—your ass sticking up for him, your back arched, your body slightly trembling in anticipation.

He spits into his palm, rubbing the slickness over his still-hard cock before pressing the thick head against your hole.

“You’re still so tight,” he grunts, pushing forward just enough to make you gasp.

His free hand slides up your spine, gripping the back of your neck as he leans over you. “Your Mark is going to wonder why you’re stumbling around tomorrow.”

With a sharp thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, his hips slapping against your ass with an obscene plop plop plop.

His grip on your neck tightens, forcing you to arch deeper.

“F- Fuck—wait! It feels s-s’good!”

Sinister grins at your words, his thrusts becoming more brutal that your body starts to jolt forward with each time your skin meets with his.

He leans down, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. You let out a sharp whine in response.

Your fucked-out face pressed against a pillow covered in your drool. The pleasure is so deep that it borders on painful, your ass clenches around Sinister’s thrusts until the bed is soaked beneath you, your cum spurting and dribbling from your cock.

You draw out another moan.

He fucks you through your orgasm, pace faltering just a little as he fights his own release.

“Nngh..” He pulls out at the last second, jerking himself off until he spills across your ass and lower back in hot, heavy pulses, the mess sliding down your warm skin. A breathy curse slips from his mouth.

—

The scent of sex and sweat lingers in the air between you, a thick reminder of what just happened.

Sinister huffed as he laid back against pillows, watching as you hooked your bare leg over his hip, your chest almost fully on top of his.

You unconsciously sucked and nibbled at his neck as if it was second nature, your hand firmly holding his jaw on the other side.

He wrapped an arm around your waist and looked down at you with a satisfied, lazy grin, taking in the sight of his cum on the curve of your ass and the small of your back. His other hand treks down to trace through the mess, scooping some up with two fingers and pushing it back inside your fucked hole.

He’s not looking for another round just yet, but he likes the way you cling to him, the way you currently need him.

He shifts slightly, pressing his chest firmer against yours, enjoying the subtle contrast between your body and his. You murmured against the skin of neck and bit down harder when his fingers slipped inside.

“Yeah, that’s it..." he mumbles, his voice thick with post coital content. He can feel how sensitive you've become, the walls of your hole throbbing rhythmically around his fingers.

He slides a third finger in, stretching you wide again, his hand working with a steady kind of grace. He isn't exactly being gentle, but he isn't being brutal anymore either. It’s a slow, possessive kneading.

“Mmm..” you whine quietly.

And suddenly the door slowly opens—

Mark’s voice was soft, like he expected you to be asleep when he walked in.

“I know it’s late and I shouldn’t have broken in, but—”

He cut himself off at the sight of Sinister fingering you.

You were supposed to tell him as soon as you saw the guy. You were supposed to tell him if something was wrong. You were supposed to—

The one thing you weren’t supposed to do was hide the fact you were keeping Sinister at home and fucking him behind Mark’s back.

“..What the hell is this?” Mark stares in disbelief.

Sinister’s body stiffens under you, but he doesn't make an effort to cover you or move away in shame.

Instead, he slowly drags his fingers out of your slick, gaping hole with a wet sound that echoes in the sudden silence.

He looks the doorway, his eyes meeting his own—well, Mark’s wide, horrified gaze. Rather than looking guilty, he looks incredibly annoyed, his brows furrowing as if his intrusion has ruined a perfectly good moment.

“I asked a question.”

Mark’s hands clench into tight fists. His eyes flicker to your nude, sweaty body draped over Sinister’s, then back up to his irritated glare.

He gave Mark a cocky smirk. "What? You caught us post fuck." His voice was lacking even a hint of apology. “Don’t look so shocked, it was bound to happen with me and him.”

“You’re serious.”

It’s not even a question.

Everything that made sense five minutes ago—everything that felt intense, confusing, impossible to untangle—suddenly feels a lot more real under his gaze.

You push yourself up slightly, finally aware of how this looks.

Of what it is.

“…Mark, I—”

“You lied to me.” He cuts you off, sharp.

“I asked you,” he continues, taking a slow step closer. “More than once. If something was wrong. If he came back. And you just—what? Kept him here behind my back!?”

You don’t have an answer. An honest one at least.

His jaw tightens.

“How long has this been going on?”

You’re silent again.

And that’s your answer.

Mark lets out a sharp, disbelieving breath, running a hand through his hair like he’s trying to wake himself up from a bad dream. “This is messed up. This is really messed up.”

You nod hesitantly. “I know.”

“But you still did it.”

Not accusing.

Not even fully angry.

Just hurt.

“I didn’t know how to tell you..”

“You could’ve started with anything,” Mark snaps, the frustration finally coming through. “Instead of—this!”

Sinister sits up slightly, gaze fixed on Mark. “He wasn’t going to tell you.”

You tense up even more. “Stop it—“

Mark’s eyes snap to him. “Don’t speak for him.”

“I don’t have to,” Sinister replies. “He already made his choice.”

“Dude,” Mark says, looking back at you, “this is him. The guy who literally kidnapped you. The guy we’re supposed to be stopping. And you—”

He gestures helplessly, like he can’t even comprehend the thought.

Your chest tightens. “I- It’s.. not that simple.”

That stops him for a moment.

“No, no, you’re right! I get it, you’re choosing him.” Mark spat out sarcastically, disbelief bleeding into every word.

You flinch.

And that says everything it needs to.

Mark laughs once. “Wow.”

Sinister doesn’t look surprised at all. If anything, he looks satisfied, still completely unapologetic. “Told you.”

“I trusted you,” he says.

You swallow, your voice quieter now. “I know.”

“Did you?” Mark asks. “Because it really doesn’t feel like it.”

He takes a few small steps back. Like he needs distance before he says something worse.

“I need a minute,” he mutters, more to himself than either of you, slowly turning around. “We’re talking about this later.”

Then he’s gone.

And the room feels colder without him.

“He’ll come back,” Sinister says. “I would know.”

You’re caught between the person you’ve always known and the one who refuses to let you go.

But no matter what happens next, you’ve already crossed the line.

And there’s no going back from it now.

“…Shit.”

The heat had been building for days, but tonight it finally broke you open. As an omega, once your cycle hit its peak, there was no fighting it—your body flooded the room with sweet, needy pheromones that wrapped around Damon like a vice. He wasn’t just any alpha; he was a dominant one, the kind whose rut kicked in hard and fast the second he caught even a hint of your scent. One deep inhale while you were writhing on the sheets and he was gone—eyes darkening to near-black, muscles locking tight, cock already thickening and leaking as raw instinct took over.

You’d lost track of how many hours you’d spent in the bedroom. He’d fucked you through the mattress in every position imaginable: on your back with your legs hooked over his shoulders so he could watch your face twist in pleasure, riding him while he gripped your hips and forced you down onto every thick inch until your thighs shook, bent over the headboard while he knotted you from behind and growled low, filthy promises against the bite-marked skin of your neck. Load after load had already been pumped deep into your core, each knot locking you together for long, pulsing minutes while he whispered. “That’s it, omega… take every drop of your alpha’s cum… let it settle right where it belongs in that greedy hole of yours.”

Your stomach had grown noticeably full by the fourth round—softly rounded and heavy with the warm weight of him, skin stretched just enough that you could feel the faint slosh when he pressed a possessive palm over it.

But Damon’s rut wasn’t slowing. Dominant alphas like him didn’t come down easy. Even after five knots in the bedroom, his cock was still rock-hard, still leaking steadily, still demanding more. He’d scooped you up mid-moan, your legs dangling weakly, thick cum already starting to trickle down your trembling thighs, and carried you straight to the bathroom without a single word.

The bathroom was already thick with steam from your earlier shower, the mirror half-fogged yet still cruelly clear, reflecting every single filthy, obscene detail as Damon stood behind you like a solid wall.

His big hands were locked iron-tight on your hips, fingers digging deep enough to leave fresh bruises blooming over the old ones, while his thick, veined cock was buried to the absolute root inside your stretched ass—so deep the clear outline of it pressed visibly against the taut skin of your lower belly, shifting and throbbing with every slow, deliberate roll of his hips. Your [hair color] hair swung and bounced wildly with each measured thrust, damp strands sticking to your sweaty neck and shoulders like they were trying to cling to the rhythm he dictated so perfectly, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world and wanted you to feel every single dragging inch of him.

Your naked body looked completely ruined in the mirror—bare skin turned into his personal canvas of ownership. Dark, throbbing bite marks ringed your throat like a permanent claim, purple hickeys scattered across your chest and shoulders, fingerprint bruises blooming vivid and deep across your hips and ass cheeks from the hours he’d already spent gripping you like he’d never let go.

Every single thrust made those marks shift and stretch under your skin, a constant aching reminder of how long he’d been owning you completely. Your plump lips stayed parted in a broken, gasping 'O', raw needy moans pouring out and echoing off the tiled walls—high-pitched, desperate little sounds that climbed higher and louder every time his fat cock dragged back almost to the tip, leaving your hole clenching desperately around nothing but air and slick, only to sink back in with that same calm, heavy, soul-shaking push that bottomed out against your deepest heat and made your belly bulge outward again in that slow, visible swell.

Your [eye color] eyes kept rolling back helplessly, lashes clumped and wet with overwhelmed tears, a thin trail of drool slipping shamelessly from the corner of your mouth because your brain had melted into complete blankness hours ago. Nothing existed anymore except the brutal, delicious stretch in your ass, the throbbing pressure grinding against your deepest core, and the heavy, bloated, sloshing fullness in your stomach from all the loads he’d already pumped into you—skin stretched shiny and tight, the visible outline of his cock pushing outward every single time he pressed all the way in like he was already reshaping you from the inside.

Your own cock hung heavy and aching between your trembling legs, flushed dark red at the head, leaking thick, endless strings of pre-cum that dripped steadily onto the floor tiles in messy little puddles. One of your hands drifted down on pure instinct, palm rubbing slow, possessive circles over the swollen curve of your belly while your fingers brushed teasingly along the base of your cock, feeling how painfully hard and sensitive it still was, twitching violently under your own touch.

In the mirror you watched yourself—flushed crimson, trembling violently, eyes glassy and completely fucked-out—then your gaze helplessly shifted to Damon behind you. His black hair fell messily over his forehead, powerful arms caging your frame completely, veins bulging thick along his forearms as he kept you pinned exactly where he wanted you. His dark eyes locked onto yours in the reflection, calm and burning with that quiet, terrifying control that made your stomach flip.

“Damon… hngh…”

The name tore out of you, shaky and completely wrecked.

His hips slowed to a torturously gentle grind, cock still buried balls-deep, his knot already half-swollen and pressing insistently against your stretched rim without popping in yet. One huge hand came up, brushing your [hair color] hair tenderly out of your face, thumb stroking your tear-streaked cheek with surprising softness that somehow made everything feel even more intense.

“You look exhausted, baby,” he murmured, voice low and warm like he was commenting on the weather, not the way he’d been methodically destroying you for hours on end. “Was I too rough? Want me to stop for a minute? Let you catch your breath?”

You shook your head frantically, fresh hot tears spilling even as another slow roll of his hips ripped a broken, guttural moan from your throat and made your cock twitch hard against your belly. ​"N-no… don’t stop, please… this is on me. It’s my fault—my heat hit so suddenly and triggered your rut too. I have to take responsibility for this… so don’t stop until you’re satisfied…"

Damon’s expression melted instantly into something softer, deeper. He leaned down, broad chest pressing flush and hot against your back, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, then another to the corner of your wet eye, his breath warm against your skin.

​"Baby, look at me."

His palm was warm and steady against your jaw, his fingers exerting just enough pressure to keep your eyes locked onto his in the mirror. He let out a low, shaky breath.

​"Stop," he commanded softly, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "This isn't on you. If anything, I’m the one who’s reaching a breaking point. I’ve been holding back more than you know. I’ve reached my limit, and I can't stay patient anymore. It’s been far too long since I’ve had you like this, so let’s just stop talking. I just want to enjoy every second of this with you until it’s over."

The air in the room—already thick with raw, filthy sex—suddenly felt heavier, warmer, aching with something so tender it made your chest tighten. You sniffled, nodding, but the tiny movement made your inner walls flutter wildly around his cock. Damon groaned low and deep in his chest, hips twitching once as he felt it.

“Fuck… so tight when you do that,” he breathed, but he stayed perfectly slow, letting you feel every thick inch sliding in and out while his thumb wiped your tears away with aching gentleness. “Don’t blame yourself, okay? You’re mine. My sweet boy. My omega.”

That single word slammed into you like lightning straight to your core. Your hole clenched violently around his cock without warning, squeezing him so hard and greedy he hissed through his teeth, eyes darkening further. Your own cock jumped and spurted a fresh, thick bead of pre-cum onto the sink edge. The soft, caring atmosphere shattered right back into raw, burning heat in an instant.

“Shit— baby boy, you like when I call you that?” Damon’s voice dropped an octave, rougher, darker, dripping with filthy promise. He started moving again—still measured, still that maddening calm control—but each thrust landed a fraction heavier, the wet, obscene sounds of skin slapping skin and slick echoing louder off the tiles. “Like being my little breeding hole? Like knowing I’m gonna pump you so full you can’t walk tomorrow?”

You whimpered desperately, nodding so fast your [hair color] hair flew around your face. Your hands gripped the sink edge white-knuckled as he kept that perfect, controlled pace—long, dragging strokes that let you feel every single vein, every ridge, the fat head kissing and grinding against your deepest heat on every thrust like he was mapping every inch of you.

His hands roamed possessively: one staying glued to your softly rounded belly, pressing lightly so you could feel the warm weight shift inside, the other wrapping around your leaking cock to stroke in the exact same lazy rhythm, thumb spreading the endless pre-cum around the sensitive head until you were shaking. Every time you got close—body tightening, moans turning frantic and broken—he slowed right back down to an agonizing grind, edging you mercilessly until you were sobbing and babbling incoherently, tears streaming freely.

“Please… Damon… need it… please…”

“Need what, baby?” He nipped your earlobe hard, voice still so calm while his grip on your hip turned bruising. “Tell me exactly what you need.”

“Need you to breed me… please… fill me up again… make me yours…”

That was the trigger.

His pace stayed steady and controlled, but the force behind every thrust turned savage—hips snapping forward hard enough to jolt your entire body forward against the sink, balls slapping loudly and wetly against your ass, the mirror shaking slightly with the impact. Your moans dissolved into broken, animalistic sobs of pleasure, drool running freely down your chin and dripping onto the counter, eyes rolling back completely as he hammered that sweet spot over and over without mercy, the wet squelching sounds of his cock plunging through all the cum already inside you filling the room. Your cock throbbed violently in his fist, leaking nonstop all over his thick fingers as he stroked you in time with every brutal thrust.

He kept you right there on the edge for what felt like forever—slow, torturous withdrawals that left you clenching desperately around nothing, followed by punishing slams that made your stomach round out a little more with each load, the outline of his cock so clear in the mirror it looked like he was claiming you from the inside out. His hand never left your cock, thumb rubbing relentless circles over the swollen head while he whispered filthy praise right against your ear.

“That’s it, baby boy, take every inch… feel how deep I am inside you… gonna swell you up so pretty with my cum.”

The knot started swelling gradually, stretching your rim wider and wider, the burn mixing with blinding pleasure until your vision whited out at the edges.

“Gonna knot you now, baby. Gonna lock in and breed you full. You ready?”

One final, hard-shaking deep thrust and the knot popped in with a loud, wet, obscene sound that echoed off the tiles. Damon groaned long and low, chest vibrating against your back as the first thick, heavy spurt flooded your deepest part—hot, endless ropes of cum blasting straight into your core in powerful pulses that you could feel bulging your stomach even more, skin stretching tighter and shinier right before your eyes in the mirror.

Your own orgasm crashed through you so hard your legs nearly gave out, cock spurting weakly onto the sink while your walls milked him greedily, fluttering and clenching around the massive knot like they never wanted to let go. He ground in slow, deep circles, pushing every last drop deeper, hand rubbing possessive circles over your now noticeably fuller stomach like he was already proud of the weight he was putting in you.

“That’s it… take every single drop for me. Gonna look so fucking pretty all round and heavy for me.”

The tie lasted forever, his cock still twitching and pulsing inside you, more cum leaking in lazy waves as he kissed your neck and shoulders softly, murmuring how perfect you were, how you were made for this.

When the knot finally deflated just enough for him to move again, he didn’t pull out to rest—no, he spun you around with that same calm, effortless strength, lifted you onto the bathroom counter so your ass hung right on the edge, and slid back in with one smooth, impossibly deep push that knocked the breath out of you. Your legs wrapped around his waist automatically, heels digging into his back as the new angle let him hit even deeper, the gentle roundness in your belly even more pronounced now with each thrust.

He started slow again—long, dragging strokes that let you feel every thick inch pulling out until only the head stretched your rim, then slamming back in so hard your whole body jolted and your rounded belly pressed against his abs.

His hand stayed glued to your swollen stomach, pressing down lightly every time he bottomed out so you could feel the cum slosh and shift inside you like liquid heat, the other hand stroking your cock in lazy, torturous pulls, thumb circling the head relentlessly while he whispered, “Not yet, baby… I want you to feel every single drop when I fill you again… gonna make you leak me for days.”

Your [hair color] hair stuck to your sweaty face, tears and drool mixing as you begged shamelessly, hole fluttering and sucking him deeper with every thrust, the wet sounds growing filthier. He kept edging you mercilessly, slowing every time you got close until you were a sobbing, trembling mess, then building back up until the second knot swelled even bigger, stretching you to the absolute limit. “Gonna lock in again… gonna pump another load straight into you. Gonna get you pregnant.”

The knot popped in with a loud, wet squelch that echoed, and another flood hit—thicker, hotter, endless ropes that made your stomach push out a little more noticeably, skin stretching shiny and tight. You came again, cock spurting weakly between your bodies while your walls milked him desperately, the tie lasting even longer this time as he rocked gently, hand rubbing slow circles over your fuller stomach. “Feel how full you are now? That’s all me, baby boy… every drop is mine.”

When the knot went down enough, he lifted you like you weighed nothing, turned you around, and bent you over the edge of the tub. Your chest pressed flush to the cool porcelain, ass high in the air, and he slid right back in from behind—still starting slow and calm, but each thrust landed heavier, balls slapping loudly and wetly while the tub edge dug deliciously into your hips and your cock hung down, swinging and leaking with every brutal slam.

One hand fisted your [hair color] hair, forcing your head up so you had to watch every second in the mirror. “Look how pretty you look getting bred, baby… look at that… that’s all my cum making you swell like this.”

His free hand reached around to stroke your cock again, edging you mercilessly while the other pressed down lightly on your cum-bloated stomach, feeling the sloshing mess with every thrust. The third knot swelled bigger still—he ground it in deliberately, letting the stretch burn so good you saw stars and your moans turned into raw screams of pleasure. When it locked, the third flood was heavier, your belly rounding out further, skin stretched tight, cum already starting to leak in thick rivers down your thighs the moment the knot softened just enough for him to keep moving.

He pressed you against the cold tiled wall next, one of your legs hooked high over his arm, cock driving upward so deep your inner heat felt permanently reshaped around him. The contrast of cold tiles on your back versus the burning stretch inside made every sensation sharper, more overwhelming. He started with those long, rolling thrusts that dragged every vein along your walls, then turned absolutely savage, slamming up into you until your back arched hard and your [hair color] hair stuck wetly to the wall, your cock rubbing frantically against his abs and leaving sticky trails.

“Still not done,” he murmured against your ear, voice still so calm even while he railed you senseless. “Gonna keep breeding you until you can’t take another drop…”

The fourth knot swelled even thicker—he let it stretch you impossibly wide, grinding in torturous circles while your hole fluttered and milked him, then slammed it home with a wet pop that made your vision spark. The fourth flood was massive, your belly noticeably heavier and rounder now in the mirror, skin so tight it gleamed, cum already leaking in heavy rivers down your thighs the second the knot started to soften, but he never let you empty, just kept thrusting through the mess.

When that knot finally gave him room to move, he lowered you gently to the bath mat on the floor, folded you into a deep mating press—knees pushed all the way to your ears, ass tilted up perfectly—and started the fifth round right there. Slow, grinding strokes at first that turned into punishing slams, his hips snapping down with bruising force while your cock was trapped between your bodies, rubbing frantically against your own rounded belly, the friction driving you insane.

The fifth knot swelled one last time as he rubbed slow, possessive circles over your swollen stomach like he was already talking to the weight inside. “Gonna fill you one more time, sweet boy… gonna make sure you’re leaking me for days.”

The knot popped in and the fifth load was bigger yet—thick, endless pulses that made your stomach round out even more noticeably, skin stretched shiny, your own weak orgasm ripping through you as your walls milked him desperately. He held the tie the longest yet, rocking gently, kissing your neck and whispering how perfect you were, how your body was made to take him like this.

But he still wasn’t done. The moment the fifth knot deflated enough, he flipped you onto your hands and knees right there on the mat, sixth round starting instantly—doggy style on the floor with your chest pressed down low, ass arched high, and he mounted you from behind like a beast claiming what was his.

His hands gripped your hips harder than ever, yanking you back onto his cock with every thrust, the angle letting him spear even deeper while your belly hung heavy beneath you, brushing the soft mat with every brutal slam, the weight of it making your arms tremble. He started slow again, dragging out each withdrawal until your hole fluttered and begged, then slammed home with bone-rattling force, balls slapping wetly against your leaking rim, the obscene squelch of all those loads inside you echoing louder than your broken moans.

His hand reached under to stroke your spent cock in rough, uneven pulls while the other pressed down firmly on your belly from above, squeezing the sloshing mess so you felt every thick drop churn and shift inside, making your vision blur with overstimulation.

“Look at you, baby… so fucking full already and I’m still not satisfied,” he growled low, voice steady as ever while he railed you senseless.

He edged you mercilessly again, slowing every time your hole fluttered too close to release, until the sixth knot began swelling—bigger than any before, stretching your rim to its absolute limit until the burn turned into white-hot, mind-melting ecstasy. When it finally popped in with a loud, filthy squelch, the sixth flood hit like a tidal wave—ropes so thick and hot your stomach inflated visibly even more, skin stretching furthermore, the roundness so obvious and heavy it made you scream into the mat, body convulsing violently, cock spurting dryly while your walls milked him for every last drop, the tie lasting so long your legs shook uncontrollably beneath him and your arms gave out completely.

Only when that sixth knot finally softened did he pull you up one last time, pressing your back flush to the cold tiled wall again but this time lifting both your legs to wrap around his waist in a standing full carry. Your arms looped weakly around his neck, body completely suspended on his cock as he drove upward with brutal, measured thrusts, every slam lifting you higher before dropping you back down onto his full length with punishing force. The new angle crushed your swollen stomach, the pressure making the cum inside slosh audibly with every movement while your cock rubbed frantically against his abs, leaving sticky, desperate trails.

He fucked you like this with that same terrifying calm—slow, deep rolls that let you feel every vein dragging along your ruined, oversensitive walls, then savage upward snaps that made your entire body jolt and your hoarse moans turn into shattered, breathless screams. His mouth latched onto your neck, biting fresh claiming marks while one hand supported your ass and the other rubbed slow, possessive circles over your rounded belly.

“One more, baby… gonna give you the biggest load yet… gonna make sure you’re bred so full all of me.”

The seventh knot swelled monstrously, stretching you past what you thought was impossible, the burn so intense your vision blurred with fresh tears as he ground it in deliberately, whispering filthy, loving praise against your ear the entire time.

“So good for me… taking everything I give you… my perfect little breeding boy.”

When it finally locked in with the wettest, loudest pop yet, the final flood exploded inside you—endless, thick ropes that pushed your stomach out even further into that heavy, obvious roundness, skin so tight and shiny it gleamed, the pressure so overwhelming you came again in a dry, shattering orgasm that left you sobbing and completely limp in his arms. He held the tie the longest of all, rocking gently inside you, kissing every tear from your face while your walls fluttered weakly around the massive knot, milking every last drop until you were nothing but trembling, oversensitive heat wrapped around him.

By the time the seventh knot finally began to soften, you were beyond wrecked—body boneless, breath coming in shallow, ragged pants, voice reduced to faint, broken whimpers, your rounded stomach pressing heavily against his, skin stretched taut so every tiny movement sent ripples of overstimulation through you. Thick rivers of cum still leaked slowly from your abused hole whenever he shifted even slightly, dripping down your thighs and pooling on the tiles beneath you.

Damon didn’t rush. He never did.

He eased you down from the wall with infinite care, strong arms cradling your limp weight like you were made of glass, and carried you straight back under the warm spray of the shower. The water hit your overheated skin in soothing waves, washing away sweat and slick and the last traces of your own tears. He held you against his broad chest with one arm wrapped securely around your waist, the other gently tilting your head back so the water could rinse your [hair color] hair clean.

“Easy, baby,” he murmured low against your temple, lips brushing your skin in the softest kiss. “I’ve got you. Just breathe for me.”

He reached for the body wash—his favorite one, the one that always smelled faintly of cedar and warm spice—and poured a generous amount into his palm. Then those big, calloused hands began the slow, reverent work of cleaning you. He started at your shoulders, massaging the soap into every bruise and bite mark with feather-light pressure, thumbs circling gently over the dark purple claims he’d left on your throat like he was soothing them rather than admiring them. Down your chest, over the scattered hickeys, along your ribs, careful not to press too hard on your stomach. He cupped the curve in both hands for a long moment, just holding it, feeling the warmth and the faint sloshing beneath the tight skin.

“So beautiful like this,” he whispered, voice thick with awe and something deeper. “Carrying all of me… my perfect omega.”

Only when every inch of your upper body was clean did he lower his hand between your legs.

He slipped two thick fingers inside you first—slow, achingly careful, letting your overworked rim part around them with the barest stretch. You whimpered instantly, hips jerking on reflex, but he shushed you softly, kissing your shoulder.

“Shhh, sweet boy… I know it’s a lot. Just let me take care of you.” His fingers pushed deeper, curling gently at first, stroking along your inner walls in slow, deliberate sweeps.

Every curl coaxed thick, milky globs of his cum to slide out—warm, heavy ropes that dripped down his wrist and mixed with the shower water in obscene, pearly streams. He kept the motion patient but relentless, scissoring slowly to open you wider, pressing firmly against that swollen, oversensitive spot inside you until your soft cock twitched helplessly and a weak dribble of pre-cum leaked out despite how spent you were.

“Still so full of me,” he breathed against your ear, voice low and intimate, almost reverent. “Gonna get every last drop out so you can sleep comfortable, okay? Relax into it… let it happen.”

He added a third finger, stretching you wider still, the burn mingling with that deep, aching pleasure that made your toes curl against the wet tiles. He twisted gently, scissoring in slow, rhythmic motions, fingertips dragging along every ridge and fold, scooping out stubborn globs that clung to your walls. The wet, filthy sounds of his fingers working inside you filled the steam—slow squelches, soft gushes as more cum poured out in heavy waves, running down your thighs in thick rivers before the water carried it away. Every press against that spot made your hole flutter weakly, clenching around his fingers on instinct, milking them the same way it had milked his cock for hours.

You moaned low and broken, too exhausted to do anything but take it, head lolling against his shoulder as fresh tears—different this time, softer, overwhelmed with care—slipped down your cheeks.

“There you go… good boy,” he praised, lips brushing your temple. “Look at all that… so much of me still inside you. Just let it out for me, baby. I’ve got you.”

He kept going, patient, thorough, curling deeper, twisting slower, thumb rubbing firm, soothing circles over your sensitive rim while his other arm held you upright against his chest. Another thick rush leaked out, then another, the warm water finally starting to run clearer as he coaxed the very last stubborn loads from your depths. Your walls fluttered one final time around his fingers, weak and trembling, and he curled them gently one more time just to be sure—making sure nothing was left—before he slowly, carefully withdrew.

The sudden emptiness made you whimper softly, hole clenching around nothing, but he was already there—kissing your neck, your jaw, your tear-streaked cheek. “All done, sweetheart. All clean now.”

He rinsed you again, letting the warm water soothe every aching inch, then turned off the spray and reached for the biggest, softest towel. He dried you with aching tenderness—patting rather than rubbing, careful around every bruise, every bite, every swollen inch of skin. When he reached your stomach he spent extra time, toweling gently over the skin, murmuring quiet praises the whole time. “My beautiful boy… look at you. So perfect.”

Only then did he scoop you up—bridal style this time, your head tucked under his chin—and carry you to the bedroom. He laid you down on cool, clean sheets, slid in behind you, and pulled you flush against his chest. One strong arm draped protectively over your stomach, palm splayed wide like he was already guarding what he’d put there. He held you, letting you feel the solid warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart against your back.

He reached for the bottle of lotion on the nightstand—unscented, the one he knew soothed your skin after a heat—and warmed a generous amount between his palms before smoothing it over every bruise, every bite mark, every fingerprint. His fingers traced each mark with feather-light touches, pressing just enough to ease the ache without causing more. He massaged your shoulders, your neck, down your spine, then spent long minutes on your hips and thighs where the bruises were darkest, working the lotion in slow circles until the tension melted. When he reached your stomach again he was even gentler, rubbing the lotion in with both hands in wide, soothing strokes, feeling the warmth beneath his palms.

“So proud of you, my perfect boy,” he whispered, voice husky with satisfaction and love.

You drifted off completely surrounded by him—owned, cherished, utterly spent and utterly safe—the last sensation the slow, soothing circles of his thumb over your belly, the quiet, unshakable promise in every touch that he would always take care of you like this, no matter how many rounds it took, no matter how full or how wrecked you became.

────✴︎─

you gripped his ass like a lifeline as he rocked on your lap with impossibly expert motions.

“oh, fuck— just like that, yeahhh…” you whined, guiding him with your hands. “where’d you learn to—nghh—ride dick like this, holy shit…”

his palms, sheen with sweat, supported himself on your heaving chest as he bounced up and down on your cock. you couldn’t even throw your head back; the sight of his (unnecessarily full) breasts moving with every thrust was too alluring to let go of.

you wouldn’t mind this becoming a habit.

“god, you’re so good—“ you could feel his precum dripping onto your abdomen, and the slight falter of his hips didn’t go past you. “let me cum, leon, please.”

“you wanna come inside me, baby?” he ground down onto your lap, harder now, taking both your breaths away. “gonna fill me up nice an’ good, yeah?”

“mmhmm, yeah, fuck, fuck me—!” he was so tight, how could he be so fucking tight? like he was squeezing you for all you were worth and more?

“m’working on it,” he groaned, fingers digging into your chest. even in a position like this, he didn’t lose his one-liners, it seems.