Most Heart Wrenching Piece That Ive Read Pt2

most heart wrenching piece that ive read pt2

have, do, will: part two.

a/n: thank you for another milestone :’)

content: a bit suggestive

word count: 26.0k+

[ oikawa x reader, iwaizumi x reader ]

part one.

–––––

How does one keep a promise?

Three years ago, Oikawa Tooru knew how.

Keep reading

OH MY

. . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ yandere ghost pt. 2 ] ˎˊ˗

[part one] [oneshot]

part two of a yandere ghost haunting his darlings house 💕 gn reader x male yandere. obsessed with him tbh so there might still be more in the future- eventually i need to give him a name!! let me know if you have any suggestions 👀

it is mentioned/implied that reader (y/n) has hair long enough to be played with in some capacity. also, this one has no nsfw but i do have a lot of nsfw ideas for ghost yandere & his darling 😅

tws: general yandere behavior, supernatural content

minors dni 🎀 18+ only

💌 its been draining, tiring, over the last few months... but he's no where near close to giving up. he's gotten so much closer; every passing day, he can feel himself getting closer to his goal. and he's so happy around you now; gone are the days where he is nothing but angry, and all because of you.

💌 for your part, you've sort of just accepted that something is going on in your house. the 'history' the realtor warned you about was starting to make sense. but it's not like you could pack up and leave, not in this economy. besides, you never felt like you were in any danger. maybe you could just... learn to live with it for now.

💌 you don't expect it to get as... physical as it does, though. by any stretch of the imagination.

💌 the first 'big event,' something ghost yandere will be celebrating for weeks to come, happens one night when you are settling down for bed.

💌 up until this point, things had only barely escalated. sometimes you could see the bare outlines of a handprint pressed against your foggy mirror when you got out of the shower; sometimes your lights would flicker when you were talking to yourself, almost like a response to your questions; and more than once, you had seen with your own eyes something you needed move across the table towards you before you could reach for it.

💌 this night, though, as you are getting ready for bed, you found yourself in front of the bathroom mirror at the end of your nightly routine. he couldn't stand it; you just always looked so good!

💌 you felt a slow, cold chill travel down your spine, like someone with frozen fingers was trailing them down your back. you were getting strangely used to the shivers, they happened so often- that, you could brush off. but as you watched yourself in the mirror, a single lock of your hair separated from the rest, rising in the air and twisting- like someone you couldn't see was gently playing with it, twirling it around their fingers.

💌 he was too busy being ecstatic to even really notice when you freaked out, darting out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. your hair was so soft, like the most expensive silk between his barely-corporeal fingers. but the important part was that he had touched you, affected some part of your physical body.

💌 around this time, you stop inviting people over to your house, much to his delight. still, you can't cut yourself off from the outside world entirely. it agitates ghost yandere beyond belief that he can't just follow you everywhere; every time he tries, it's like walking through a portal. he just ends up back inside the house. more than once, you come home to your lights flickering madly, and the door always slams behind you once you enter.

💌 he is only emboldened when, only a few days later, you made the decision to try to contact whatever was in your house and figure out what was going on, once and for all. he stood over your shoulder, as he usually did, to watch what you were researching on your laptop, heart thundering in his chest when he saw you googling how to contact spirits.

💌 you wanted to talk to him, too!! maybe whatever avenue you choose to speak to him will satiate his need to communicate with you in the meantime, while he builds up his strength to manifest more physically.

💌 you settle on: a ouija board. you order one from a metaphysical shop, and the wait for it to arrive is torture, for both of you. for his part, he is so excited that the lights tend to flicker when he enters a room. for you? you are anxious.

💌 he doesn't quite connect the dots on why you have been so anxious lately (maybe you're just really excited to talk to him!); he does his best to soothe you, in the little ways he can manage. starting up your music from your laptop, moving things you need closer to you, he even eases up on hiding your things from you. and, of course, moves your hair delicately out of your face while you sleep- he really can't help it.

💌 now that he knows he can do it, he loves touching you. moving your hair, feeling it between his fingers, watching the slight, invisible pressure against your skin as he trails his fingers up and down your arm, back, leg... aside from the way it makes him feel to be able to touch you, it's good practice for him. the more he tries, the more often he is able to actually do it.

💌 the ouija board comes in. he follows you all around the house (as he normally does) as you set it up, sitting on a pillow in front of the coffee table in your living room. while you open the box and set everything up, reading the instructions that came with it, he gets so excited that the lights begin to lightly flicker.

💌 you ignore it, as you tend to do, setting the instructions aside and placing the planchette on the board. ghost yandere is practically giddy, sitting on the other side of the table, mirroring you without you being able to see him. he's polite, though, and waits for you to begin asking questions to participate.

💌 you are... beyond shocked when you ask your opening questions and you feel invisible hands placed over yours. your fingers were so light against the planchette so you wouldn't accidentally influence it, but now your fingers are pressed down against it, something else pressing your hands into the tool.

💌 he answers your questions rather quickly, so eager and happy to communicate with you. 'is someone here?' obviously! he slides the planchette and your hands to the yes. 'do you want to speak to me?' yes!!! he circles the planchette around 'yes' multiple times.

💌 a few of the personal questions make him pause a bit. how old is he? he doesn't remember; somewhere in his twenties. he'll just guess.... 2-5. his name? how could he forget his name?? it's just been so long since anyone said it.... he moves the planchette to the top middle, where it reads 'maybe/unsure.'

💌 you offer to give him a name, and he feels so flooded with excitement at the prospect that he pulls the planchette harshly towards the yes, so quickly that you gasp at the jerky movement. oh, he likes that sound.

💌 he is almost unwilling to let you say goodbye at first... until he asks you to promise to come back and talk to him soon. he can't wait!! you tell him you'll think about a nice name for him, and say goodbye, pulling your fingers away from the planchette. your fingers tingle from where the ghosts hands had been.

💌 be prepared to find the ouija board & planchette set up for you at least once a day, even if you know you put it away earlier. now that he knows you can use it to talk to each other, he wants to do it all the time. and if he has to scrape the planchette back and forth (at an admittedly alarming speed) to get your attention, spelling out I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U over and over before you walk over.... well.

💌 he just wants to make sure you don't forget to spend time with him, darling!

xoxo darling--core 🎀

IM INLOVE????

⤷ YANDERE NERD .ᐟ dakota b.

ʚ⁺˖↬ INFO.     male yandere x gn!reader, 3.0k word nsfw/18+ oneshot. READ PART ONE HERE.

ʚ⁺˖↬ CONTENTS.     sub!male yandere, reader has no mentioned genitals, general yandere/obsessive behavior, panty/underwear sniffing, getting caught, reader is a mild sadist, degradation, (male) whimpering, handjob, edging/denial

ʚ⁺˖↬ NOTES.     it's a good thing that writing pathetic men comes so easily to me because i was freaking myself tf out over this one <3

my patreon saw this one week early! if you want to view my early access content and receive patreon exclusive works, join my patreon!

dakota stands on the other side of the door to your dorm room, and he feels like he’s going to throw up.

your name is printed right there on the door, on a little name plate. he can’t find the bravery to knock, not yet, not when his stomach is so full of butterflies; he runs his fingers through his hair, trying to get the trembling in his fingers under control before he works himself up to knock on the door.

he’s been anxious before; he’s never been the most social, the most confident, the most outgoing. he was always more of the wallflower, the one who didn’t speak until someone spoke to him. but this was different— it felt almost like his entire life had, somehow, led up this very moment, where he was standing outside your door and waiting for you. always, for you.

he swallows thickly, taking a deep breath. just don’t act like a fucking freak, he tells himself, just be normal, do whatever they need for the project. you can do that. you can do that much for them, at least. don’t mention any of the other shit.

the other shit, of course, being that he’s thought about you nonstop since they day he met you in class. how your fingers felt when they brushed up against his, how the sound of your voice rolled over his skin like warm oil, how the taste of your name felt rolling off his tongue.

finally, he raises his hand— the last thing he needs is to make himself late to your study date because he’s too busy standing out in the hallway reminiscing, getting hard all over again just from the mere thought of you. his knuckles rap against the wood of your door, and he hears shuffling around inside, before footsteps come closer— and the door opens.

all the pep talks, all the lead up, and his breath is taken away almost the second it swings open, and you stand in front of him. fuck. he forced himself to smile, hoping it didn’t come out awkward or forced.

“kota!” you greeted, and his heart leapt into his throat at the shortened nickname. did you think you guys were that close already? close enough to call him by a nickname? “just on time, come on in— my dormmate’s gonna be gone for most of the night, so go ahead and make yourself at home,” you say, stepping out of the way of the doorway and ushering him inside. your eyes are on him, and it’s almost like he can feel it the same as if you were to reach out and touch him. he feels a zing up his spine, and he has to force himself to ignore it.

“thanks,” dakota breathes in, the smell of you mingling with the cool air; there’s some notes of something off, a shampoo or a body spray that he doesn’t recognize, and he thinks that must be your roommate. there’s a weird, sharp feeling in his gut, almost… annoyed that he can’t breathe in the raw, unfiltered smell if you without something else getting in the way. he enters, stepping past you, shoes tapping softly against the linoleum floor. his fingers clench around the strap of his bag, which is thrown over his shoulder, subtly wiping away the sweat that seems to have mysteriously formed on his palms.

he turns to look back at you as you close the door behind him, locking it out of habit. you face him, hand falling away from the doorknob, and smile at him again.

“brought all the stuff we need,” dakota says, a bit abruptly, forcing himself to not fall into the spiral of staring at your perfect face and getting lost in the way you smile. he shrugs his shoulder, a small gesture to the school bag hanging off it, heavy with classic literature textbooks. “for whenever you want to get started.”

“oh, cool,” you say, brushing past him casually as you head further into the room, to where one of the dorm desks is pushed against the foot of a bed— it must be your bed, he thinks, his eyes tracing the shape of it, memorizing the way the blankets on top are folded and arranged, counting how many pillows you have. he’s not sure what he would have pictured, but this feels right. it feels like you. his eyes snap back to you in the middle of your next sentence, reprimanding himself for missing even a word of it. “…about project distribution?”

he scrambles for a second, before deciding to play it safe, nodding his head. “uh, yeah— sure.”

“great,” you say, and he breathes an inward sigh of relief that you didn’t seem to notice his lapse in attention. you shift the desk chair a bit to the side, and move across the room to your roommate’s side to grab their desk chair as well. dakota swallows, standing still in the middle of the room; the desk is big enough for you both to comfortably work at, but the idea of sitting so close to you…

you turn back to him, and your smile once again catches him off guard.

“c’mon, come sit down, make yourself comfortable,” you offer, sensing the awkwardness that runs through him on some level and trying to make it a little easier for him. he watches you pull out your chair and settle down into it before pushing out his chair as well. your gaze pulls him in, gets his feet moving finally, and he shuffles across the floor towards your desk, and lowers himself down into the seat next to you.

it’s almost disarming how easy it is to fall into a rhythm with you.

calm, lofi music plays from your phone, sitting on the raised back of the desk in between the two of you. you work in a comfortable silence— dakota, however, is occasionally thrust back into the reality of the situation everytime your elbow brushes against his, or you shift in just the right way and the smell of  your shampoo wafts towards him. he’s pretty sure the only saving grace in his life right now is the fact that you haven’t been talking, which has given him less chances to absolutely embarrass himself, and even less chances to get turned on by just the sound of your voice.

dakota startled slightly as you groaned, setting your pencil down and leaning back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head.

“i’m gonna run to the bathroom,” you announce, putting you hands on the desk and pushing back, your chair skidding on the floor before you stand up. “’s just down the hall, so i’ll be right back. oh– there's a vending machine on the way, want me to grab something?”

dakota quickly lifts his head. “no– no, don’t worry about it, i’m okay,” he says, like he can't imagine asking you to do anything for him.

you shrug your shoulders. “m’kay. be right back,” you say again, pulling your shoes back on before you make your way out of the dorm room. dakota swears he can feel the temperature of the room drop when you disappear.

the door closes behind you, and he hears your receding footsteps down the hallway. he was suddenly overcome with the urge to get up, to look around, to touch and see and search– it itched under his skin, a restless energy that was all consuming.

maybe just… a quick look around. you wouldn't know if he looked at a few things, right? he could be fast– he could be discreet. he wouldn't even steal anything this time–

and then, as he begins to look around for a starting point, he spots the hamper of dirty clothes on your side of the room, butted up against the closed wardrobe in the corner behind your desk. simultaneously, he feels a sinking in his stomach– because he already knows he’s not going to be able to pass this up– and a wave of warmth rolling over his skin.

he swallowed thickly, suddenly aware of the heat in the room and his body, the sweat he could feel breaking out at the back of his neck and his palms. with a quick glance back to the closed door, dakota stood up, his feet carrying him the short distance that it took to get from the desk to the wardrobe.

the hamper was full; you must not have done laundry for a little while. he stood hesitantly in front of it, his eyes tracing over the crumpled fabric inside, nearly spilling out over the top. he could recall the days you wore some of those clothes– that t-shirt, those pants.

and then– peeking out near the top of the pile, under a pair of jeans all crumpled up and turned inside out… he spies a swath of fabric that is definitely underwear.

he can’t stop himself.

with shaky fingers, he reaches out and tugs it free. he holds it in his hands for a second, fingers running across the waistband and the seams. his head fills with some of the most vulgar thoughts he thinks he’s ever had, and he can’t help it, not when your underwear is right there in his hands. there isn't an alternative: he lifts the fabric, and presses to his face, covering his nose and his mouth. his glasses are bumped up to the top of his nose, pressing into his skin, and his shoulders rise and fall as he takes in a deep inhale. his senses are flooded with the muted smell of you, raw and musky.

the groan that he lets out as he exhales is involuntarily, spilling out of him as blood rushes from his head and straight to his cock. he holds the fabric over his face with one hand, his eyes fluttering closed, and his other hand snakes down to palm at the bulge at the front of his jeans that is suddenly almost painful. he feels dizzy, head rush over taking him as he breathes in another deep breath.

his legs feel weak as he palms at himself, just barely managing to control himself enough to keep his hand from pushing past the waistband of his jeans.

he needs to stop– needs to drop this and get back in the chair and try desperately to hide his raging hard on. he pulls the fabric away from his face, reluctantly, his head swimming. he pauses just once more, pulling his other hand away from his jeans to run his fingers over the underwear, wondering what it would feel like wrapped around his cock, considering breaking his earlier rule and shoving them in his pocket–

“oh my god– what the fuck are you doing?”

kota felt his blood run cold, and his head snapped to the door– only for his gaze to land on you, standing there in the doorway, watching him. he felt his world crash down around him, blood pumping through his veins as he scrambled to do anything but stand there and look like and absolute fucking creepy.

“i-i…” he stuttered, his tongue feeling too big for his mouth, his throat feeling too tight to breathe, lungs constricting. a cold sweat broke out over his skin, and he finally forced himself to drop the underwear back into your hamper as if they had burned him. “it’s not what it looks like, i–”

he finally registered the look on your face as you took a slow step into the room, pulling the door shut behind you and locking it. your gaze trailed down, away from his face– and to the tent at the front of his jeans. something flickered in your eyes, a heat that made dakota want to melt into the floor even as your lips curled in disgust. holy shit– were you into this?

“oh, it's not what it looks like? so you weren’t just getting off over my dirty underwear like a complete fucking pervert?”

dakota stands there dumbly, your words shooting through him like a flash of lightning, shame and arousal flooding his senses. you sound disgusted, but he doesn't miss the intrigue in your eyes, and fuck– if he gets any more rock hard he might just pass out from the lack of blood in his brain.

“well?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest, taking a single step closer. “i asked you a question, didn't i? is that not what you were doing?”

dakota opens his mouth, but you quickly add: “and don't you dare lie to me.”

swallowing thickly, dakota feels like his knees might just give out. “i… was,” he admits, shame crawling across his skin like squirming insects, a painful shiver up his spine.

you scoffed, lips curling back as you looked him up and down, shaking your head. “jesus. who knew you were such a creep?” you say, the venom laced into the word ‘creep’ doing nothing but making dakota feel weak in the knees. he could tell the front of his boxers was slick with precum, and any minute now the front of his jeans would be wet with it too.

and then you started to advance on him.

dakota can't move, his feet rooted to the spot like they’re glued to the floor. he only steps back when you get too close, pressing your hand against the center of his chest and forcing him back until his shoulder-blades hit the wardrobe, followed by his spine as he presses himself back all the way.

blood rushes through his ears, his heart pounding so fast it might just give up at any moment– and you press against him, like you’re trying to kill him. dakota sucks in a breath, the aching between his legs unbearable, especially when your hips brush up against it… and then your hand flattens against his stomach, before slowly sinking down.

“you weren’t just looking, were you? no, i bet you were sniffing them like a creep, huh?” you taunt, his face flushing more red than you’ve ever seen.

his heart feels caught in his throat, his body practically vibrating with a nervous energy that he fears might just tear him apart at the seams. he wants to touch you, but he doesn't move– doesn't dare cross that line until you tell him he can, if you ever do. you quirk a brow at him expectantly, your hand stopping on his lower stomach when he doesn't answer, a subtle threat. it kicks him back into gear.

“…yes,” he admits, his voice coming out weak and shaky. but the corners of your lips quirk up into a barely contained grin, which you quickly conceal as your hand starts moving again.

his hips jerk involuntarily as your palm presses against the outline of his cock, and he swears he can see his entire life flash before his eyes.

“wow,” you comment, “you’re really worked up. all this just from  creepin’ around in my laundry?” your palm slides over the denim, stroking him subtly through his clothes, and dakota swears he might just melt into a puddle on the floor.

“jesus–” he gasps through clenched teeth, and he can feel the front of his jeans beginning to get damp, your hand applying pressure and forcing the mess of precum staining his clothes to soak through.

you keep him pressed back against the wardrobe, your hand rubbing against him. “you really are pathetic, aren’t you? bet i could make you cum in your pants and barely even have to lift a finger to do it.”

the sound that tumbles out of his lips is half broken, too close to a whimper for him to feel anything but ashamed. but the look in your eyes is nearly triumphant— sadistic and still part disgusted, so reeled in by his pathetic display that you just can’t quite stop.

your fingers work to unbutton his jeans, reaching inside before his brain can even catch up with whats happening. his head is absolutely spinning— how did he get here? how did this happen? did he die, and this is his version of a fucked up heaven?

but then your hand is yanking down his jeans and his boxers, and your skin touches his, and fuck. he can’t think about anything anymore, not when your fingers wrap around his aching cock, becoming slick with the precum that’s smeared all over his length. just a single touch from you, and he’s practically coming undone; you have him so worked up, just by existing. nothing else has ever felt this good… nothing else will ever feel this good, and he knows it. his hips jerk as you tighten your grip, stroking up and down.

“you should see the look on your face,” you tease, your tone mocking and cruel and sinking down into the burning depths of his gut, adding gasoline to the fire.

“f-fuck— please, i’m—” dakota pants, the muscles in his abdomen tightening, a tingling sensation taking root in his limbs. his fingers reach for you, and his hands plant themselves on your hips, desperate to ground himself— to feel anything, to feel you. you let him, let his long fingers curl around your sides, dull nails digging into the fat of your hips.

“aw, what– you’re gonna cum already? you’re gonna make a mess in your pants from just my hand? i’ve barely even touched you.” you taunt, tilting your head at him, and dakota struggles to hold onto your words. a strangled cry gets caught in his throat, coming out as a choked moan as he clenches his teeth together, hips bucking against your hand, fucking into the circle of your fingers.

he’s right on the edge, burning hot and ready to tumble over, ready to feel ecstasy at  your hand—

but then your hand is gone, pulled away just before he can crest that final hill, leaving him bucking into the air and crying out, his hands shaking as they rest on your hips.

“too bad,” you hum nonchalantly. “we have things to do, and you’ve been naughty. maybe i’ll think about letting you finish after we get our work done, hmm?” you taunt, before you hold up your slick hand in front of his face, your fingers sticky with his precum. he pants, his breaths fanning against your fingers, cooling your skin. “now lick it up so we can get back to work.”

intellectual property of ©️darling--core. do not copy, repost or translate my works without my explicit consent. do not use my works to train ai.

chooo <3

Heyyyyy 🩷🫶🏾

Ex-husband! Choso who refuses to get remarried because he’s still in love with you. Even though you filed for divorce due to his lack of time, He still comes by the house to take care of the kids and sometimes cooks dinner. You realize that he’s not going anywhere when after every visit he fucks you like the night of your wedding. (NSFw please)?

MY LOVE, MINE ALL MINE.

*ೃ༄ fem!reader, ex husband!choso, overstim, unprotected sex, whiney choso, breeding, praise, mdni. wc: 0.9k

ex-husband choso never stopped loving you, despite the two of you separating.

he couldn’t.

he’s always had a deep love for you, he couldn’t be bothered with trying to move on. he still happily wears his ring, there’s probably never a moment where he takes it off because he’s just that in love with you.

it happens every time. he ends up coming over, claiming he forgotten clothes, wants to visit the kids, anything else. yet once he has you alone with the kids being at your parents house, he shows how much he misses you.

he’s so gentle with his touch—sweet whimpers escape his lips as he creates kiss trails all over your body, savoring your sweet taste that he’s always missed.

“really missed my wife,” he’d mumble out, and his lips felt so soft, tender you started to pulse. it was incredibly embarrassing. yet you and choso both knew he knew every inch of your body. every inch that makes you whine out his name. “gorgeous body. ‘s perfect ‘n all for me.”

“c-choso,” you’d moan, bringing his head close up to your neck. he sucks on your tender collarbone, he’s buried balls deep with you being sprawled out on your back. he’s gripping your thigh, caressing it before he starts to moan against your ear.

you’re nearly losing your mind at how good your warmth swallows him, gripping tight around him, it makes him dizzy. “fuck..”

“hey hey,” he mumbles, hovering over your body, his warm breath wafts against your neck, he’s so addicted to sucking softly on your skin, nibbling it playfully to drag out and elicit the sweetest sounds from your mouth.

“don’t talk baby, jus’ want you to feel me. got me so obsessed,” he goes on to say, and he grabs onto your hand. his hands were bigger than yours, a smooth surface of his palms yet as his fingers interlock with yours, you felt the coldness of the metal. the wedding ring he still wore after all this time brush against his ring finger. “woman, y’don’t know how crazy you drive me..”

choso’s heart pounds the more he stares into your eyes. and he’s always gentle with his rhythm, but with its own sprinkle of roughness.

“can never stay a-away from you,” he moans, rutting himself against you. you’re just tightening and squeezing down on him that his jaw clenches. “baby, ‘m gonna get milked by you again. i-i feel it.”

“kiss me.” you spit out, just yearning for his touch, for more of his taste. at this point, you could care less that the two of you were split. your trembling legs locked around his slim waist as he’s pumping in and out of you.

your body cutely jerks and jolts against him, your frame he always found out to be so adorable in comparison to him.

he huffs out a breath before furrowing his eyebrows, growing more needy himself. “open your mouth then.”

you do—parting your lips, and choso leans in to kiss you, sloppily. you wrap your arms around him, his soft darkened hair tickles against your forehead, it wasn’t in its usual ponytails. he had it down because after all, he’s always had a thing for you pulling on it.

he moans in your mouth. still jackhammering his hips against yours at full throttle, your legs twitch and rub against his bare back. choso’s so high from your lips, running his tongue, tracing it against yours before you whimper once you feel him reach a hand down towards your pussy to give it a squeeze. he pulls away before whispering against your lips. “tell me you still love me, baby.”

“i-i still love you.” you whined, feeling your orgasm about to reach itself. it was approaching heavily, and your head went back against the pillow. choso’s eyes glimmer at your words, tracing a thumb against your lips before sneaking a kiss onto your mouth.

choso starts panting. “all i wanted to hear,” his muscles flex from his constant friction he creates with his sharp hips. you’re so full, his dick was purely appetizing, all you could even think of was your ex-husband spilling a thick load inside of you like he always does.

it always comes out a lot, thick stringy ropes of cum. his favorite thing to do would be to pull out and let the remains splatter all over your tummy.

“i wanna make you a mommy again so bad,” he stammers out. hiding his head inside of your neck, he’s nibbling near your collarbone once more. his right hand rests on your tummy as he’s still pumping in and out of you, his own strength making him whimper out. “miss seeing your pretty tummy so plump ‘n round. gorgeous body.”

“do it then,” you whined, brushing your heel against his back. his eyes light up, he prepared himself to say something but he just moans instead. choso’s voice, you could listen to it all day, whether he was whimpering or just conversing conversation. “gimme another baby, choso.”

“i’ll give you twins,” he whispers, his voice was undeniably shaky. peppering your nose with kisses. his hips rock back and forth in such a sensual way you find your nails dragging down his back. “but first,” he pauses, stopping mid thrust to bring out your hand, kissing it once. his voice was so gentle, he moans from how tight you squeeze around him.

choso slides off his ring—squeezing it on yours and it was a perfect fit, he leans in to kiss you before letting off a moan. “marry me, again?”

an. I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. requests open <3

THE ENDING OH MY GODD

FANTASIZE. — GOJO SATORU. ☆

synopsis: it's the middle of the night and your mascara's streaming down your face. man, breakups are the worst-so what do you do? go to your fwb for "comfort." he gives you comfort, alright. ★

wc: 4.7k+

warnings: fwb trope , pwp, quickie , size kink, dacryphilia, degradation, unprotected sex, mating press, breeding, overstimulation, oral [m], face-fucking, praise kink, dumbification kink, pet names, hair pulling, not yet proofread

an: my first request!! Heavily based off Ariana's "fantasize" bcos that song iz still stuck in my head :/

3:29 A.M

you: wake up. please.

typing . . .

gojo: girl.. it's like three am.

you: you know why i'm texting u this late, satoru.

typing . . .

gojo: oh yeahh, true. well? come over then ;)

seen

you were on gojo's doorstep in nothing but some two year old university hoodie and a simple skirt, despite it being around the middle of the night, you couldn’t sleep, and you needed any sorts of distraction from your previous breakup. mascara raced down both sides of your cheeks, practically sticking to your skin, you were a devastating mess—sniffling, you wipe your eyes once the door creeks open, and there he is.

“i gotta say, babe. your taste in men is pretty shitty,” he scratches his head with a simple shrug. he chuckles, spotting you shoot him a glare from his peripherals as he held his front door open for you to step inside. “…then again, you always come crawling back to me after getting dumped so-”

“i didn’t come here to talk.” you sighed, slipping off your shoes before staring directly up at him.

“oh, i know.” he smiles with reassurance in his voice, almost as if he was mocking you. “this the part where i take my pants off right? baby, even if you’re all heartbroken, you’re still so so predictable..”

“…damn, no f-foreplay?” he nervously smiles, averting his eyes towards you—gojo wore nothing but simple sweats, grey at that, his hair was slightly messy but it made him ten times more attractive. a simple tank top covered his abdomen, and you could just about make out his ripped pecs just poking through the thin cloth piece of fabric.

you didn’t wanna waste any time, he could tell by the way you just easily shoved him with ease, against his own bed. you started to feel yourself throb, just having your fingers tangled against the thin white strings of his sweatpants. “shut up.” you mumbled, starting to pull his pants down.

“ya sure you wanna go down on me, babe? that gag reflex of yours—”

“satoru.” you glared, and he just smiles, so eager to use every second to get under your skin. but god, was he annoying. he knew he was too, the both of you knew it, gojo satoru was just purely infuriating.

sometimes you wonder why you’ve been fucking him on the low. of course not during your relationships, but he was the only person there for you in the aftermath, the only one there to comfort you, so to speak. even if that particular way was to be inside you—alas, if it was anything gojo was good at, it was fucking you. making you forget about your shitty exes. it was just something he knew how to do. he knew how to do it right too. gojo was a perfectionist after all.

“gonna suck me off with cute tears streamin’ down y’er face, yeah?” he praises, bringing a hand towards your hair, giving the crown of your head a light stroke, it’s soothing. though it causes you to let off a soft whine, feeling yourself start to throb just a bit more just from his strong, loud cologne scent that scattered across the entire room. “look at me while you do, then. wanna see that pretty face while it gets ruined.”

“your dirty talk is improving.” you sulked, and it makes gojo the one glaring at you now—it's cute.

gojo doesn't reply.

instead, he wraps a hand slightly around the back of your neck, bringing your face close towards his bright white briefs. rubbing your face against his bulge and he grunts. “shame how you make me hard even with that annoying bratty mouth of yours.”

after that little snarky remark, gojo couldn’t wait anymore. he was getting impatient, and your teasing wasn’t helping. he stares at you, watching you with close intent on the way you pull down his boxers just halfway, leaning in close enough to give his shaft a nice long lick, from his base to his very reddened coloured tip.

“s-shit.” he grunts, and you keep your eyes remained on him the entire time, his grey sweats were just visibly pulled down to his ankles as he sat up near the very edge of his un-made up bed.

gojo lets off a soft sigh, and it's more of a grunt with the way his voice pitches—his legs spread just a bit, a hand rubs against his leg. your tongue softly swipes against the head of his cock and he nibbles on his lip a little to quiet himself.

he gets a bit of shivers, feeling the very tip of your tongue playfully caress the few veins that poked out on his dick. gojo was surprisingly well trimmed, just a few tiny specks of white hair covering near the lower part of his base, but he was heavy and oh was he hefty as well. gojo satoru was the epitome of a 'packer.'

“open that mouth. tired of waitin’,” he grumbles, and he’s growing so frustrated, you can tell from his facial expressions and the way he kept shifting on the cushions. your blink at him, slowly opening your mouth before he intakes a sharp breath. “stick out y’er tongue, babe.”

you do, lolling it out and gojo grunts, wrapping his fingers around his dick before slowly slapping his thickness against your tongue. “think you deserve it?”

a pout makes its way against your lips, you were eager, whines were getting pulled from you at his consistent teasing and him slapping his pretty glossed tip against your tongue. all you could do was nod, you were on your knees while he was sat upright near the very edge of the bed.

“nuh uh,” he clicks his tongue, bringing a hand towards the back of your head to give hair a light pull, moving your head just slightly in a moving rotation. “need 'ta hear you say ya want me, gorgeous.”

what an egotistical jerk.

you wondered why you put up with someone as such as gojo satoru, but then you remembered. he always knew how to fuck good.

“i- i want you, satoru. i want it..” you mewled, the mess between your legs only making you dampen more and more. your thighs squeezed shut against each other as it was hidden beneath your pretty plaid skirt, and once you voice those sweet words. gojo lets off a cheerful yet cocky hum, using a hand to open your mouth just a bit before pushing himself inside.

it’s been a while since you sucked him off, usually it’d be him to eat you out. for hours, not to mention.

“shit,” he curses, feeling you immediately waste no time, wrapping your lips around his cock. your lashes fluttered before glancing up at him. gojo stares right back down at you—his abs flex beneath his shirt and it's sexy, his posture is even attractive. gojo’s slouching a bit with one leg stretched towards his side, it doesn’t take that much long before his eyes start to seductively go back, along with his uneven pink lips opening just a bit to breathe and pant. “missed y’er slutty throat, babe. always know how ‘ta suck it good.”

you wrap a hand swiftly around his base, and your head starts to bobble up and down, he was huge and his girth only doubled that.

your tongue meets against a few of his veins and he grunts, grabbing a fistful of your hair.

“must have been hungry, yeah?” he pants, faking a pout on his lips as he pushes you down just a bit further on his length. you nod, using as much of your own spit as you can to make the experience more pleasurable for him—who were you kidding though? you just wanted to forget.

about everything, your heartbreak, the past arguments, literally everything.

“shit, with a face that pretty,” he huffs out, growing more hornier from your tongue sliding and grazing against his tip. “gotta fuck it, babe.”

you start to gag just a bit once gojo tilts his hips forward a bit and he starts to thrust in your mouth. your nails dig into his thighs, wanting for him to continue and he swipes a thumb across your cheek that was full of your ruined mascara from crying many hours ago. “good girl. you should be cryin’ like this, not wastin’ those pretty tears because of some scumbag.”

you whined, reaching down to play with yourself just a bit, still sucking him off and trying your best not to use your teeth. “eyes on me, babe,” he reminds you, tapping the side of your temple and you’re just about weak in the knees.

you started second-guessing yourself, there had to be some reasonable reason why gojo fucked better than any of your exes, boyfriends, anyone.

even if it killed you to say it, you had to admit, he knew just how to please a woman—especially if that woman was you. you knew you had to be careful though, gojo wasn’t the type of guy to settle down in a relationship, he made that known the moment you two started your little 'fling.' if you could even call it that, friends with benefits.

were you starting to … fall for him? damn, that would be bad to say the least. outside the bedroom, gojo would always tease you, he was more so playful and of course, flirty.

“think 'm getting close,” he pants, and his breathing patterns change, and your head just goes up and down—he’s got a good strong grip on some strands of your hair as he watches you with dilated pupils, the way your tongue works around his tips sends him shivers, his leg starts to bounce as he’s chasing his incoming anticipation.

the build up, it makes his mouth go dry that he’s almost speechless, which is so ironic because of how he’s literally always talking your ear off.

“fuck, doing so good f'r me,” he says, and his voice starts to get a bit whiney from how sensitive he’s growing. that feeds your ego just a little, just knowing that you’re making him like this. all just from your tongue, and maybe a little bit of stimulation.

gojo moans, feeling your tongue flick against the frenulum part of his dick and he pauses for a moment, the way his eyes roll back just a bit was so sexy—that was one way to make you throb even more, and it certainly did.

your tongue runs up and up, almost as if it was a race and he’s so close to loosing focus. he’s not thrusting his hips into your mouth anymore, instead he plops flat on his back against the bed. you giggle, standing up while your mouth was still attached to his soon-to-be flaccid dick.

“c-cumming,” he grunts, watching your own drool pour down your chin. you were so messy, you couldn’t help it. it was one of the many things gojo loved about you, actually. once he came, he shakes a bit. shuddering, and letting off a cute moan, he catches his breath as you look at him with half-open eyes. “swallow ‘n show me, baby.”

within seconds later, you swallow his load and it tastes sweet, yet bitter. your eyes squeezed shut for a moment before you stuck your tongue out again, and he brushes a thumb against your chin to remove your spit.

“cock hungry whore,” he whines, still catching his breath before leaning down towards you only to squeeze your cheeks together. “now gimme a kiss.”

you whined, sitting up to kiss gojo and he wraps a hand around your waist, tasting himself on your lips, his tongue drags against yours and you whimper before making your way onto his lap. he chuckles at your enthusiasm, sliding a hand up and down your waist slowly to make you moan even more for him.

after a few moments, gojo pulls away to breathe until both hands of his attach to your waist. his gaze was just enticing, you could tell he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

“barely touched ya and you're nothin' but a sticky mess,” he grunts, and gojo snickers once he feels you start to grind and grind your hips against him sensually, you’re so needy and desperate for more of his touch. “walkin’ around with no panties, don’t tell me you’re just a dumb slut who just wants a crumb of dick.”

“satoru—please.” you begged, aching and itching for him to be inside already. he trails his lengthy fingers against your ass, no panties behind displayed and all you had covering you, just barely, was a plaid skirt. he grins, giving your ass a two-second squeeze before spanking it to hear you whine out. “fuck me satoru.”

“fine.” he says, stroking your chin to reach down between your legs. you moan and that single motion makes your back arch whilst your hands were thrown over his shoulders. “go slow baby, don’t want you to hurt y’erself.”

“shut t-the fuck up.” you whined, barely able to keep up your facade. gojo’s dick hovered against your achy folds. just a few inches and he’d be inside, just imagining him fucking you ruthlessly made your mouth start to water, you were hungry for it.

'desperate' was the perfect word to describe you.

“how ‘bout ya make me, hmm.” he teases, and he was so cheeky. you hated it, but then again, the way he fucks you always made up for it.

no reply.

instead of using words, you decided to let your pussy do the talking. aligning yourself against him, gojo sits upright with such a cocky grin. “go slow, babe. wouldn’t want ya to hurt yourself. been a while since i've—shit…” he pauses before nervously smiling. “…been inside this tight pussy.”

it was warm, you chewed on your bottom lip as you sank down on him, immediately leaning into him to give him… a hug?

gojo was just as surprised as you, it seemed you were acting a bit different. of course you’d be, you’d just gotten out a relationship. so you’d tend to be a bit more clingy than usual. not that he ever minded, he preferred you like this, so cute and sentimental, all in your feelings. but despite that, it was just sex and nothing more.

or was it?

“fuck,” you moaned, practically straddling him now. gojo’s hair is messy, it’s all in his face, white stands splattered all across his forehead to where it was just effortlessly attractive. he didn’t even have to do much to make you pulse between your legs. “quit looking at me.”

“but you’re so pretty when you try to take control,” he shrugs, flashing a cheesy grin and you’re just embarrassed. he was certainly enjoying this, getting underneath your skin. and you let him.

every.

single.

time.

your lips tremor as you whimper, he’s nearly all the way inside and he stretched out your cunt, you’re dizzy out of nowhere and your eyes get a bit droopy—but fuck, gojo’s amused, using one hand to rub down your back as you start to rock your hips against him, biting down hard on your bottom lip as the tip of his cock mashed and kisses against your sensitive areas.

“uh oh,” he huffs out in a short mini pant, swiping a tongue against his lips before grunting. you were sopping wet, he spanks your ass to quicken your pace and you moaned. “this what you call ridin' someone? thought i taught ya better than that, babe,” and then he sniggers at seeing your face drop once he holds your hips firmly still and in place. “if you can’t do it right, maybe we should just end this thing-”

“n-no, okay okay okay,” you stuttered, so desperate for him to fuck you, but you had to fuck him first. gojo hums to himself, and you start to ride him. a tiny mewl exits past your lips once you move against him before you’re bouncing on his lap. your head’s spinning, mind s racing miles a minute and it’s just euphoric.

gojo’s got such the cockiest grin on his lips as you maneuver yourself against him, chewing on your lip every few seconds to suppress your sweet sounds, he eyes you up and down before his voice gets a bit rapsy, turning you on ultimately.

“speed it up, baby,” he grunts, spanking your ass once more and you whimper from feeling his touch press against your skin. “touch yourself while you ride me. give me a little show. show me what i’ve been missin' since you’ve been away from me for so long.”

“o-okay.” you breathed, bringing a shaky hand towards your body, panting as you rode him. his dick reached deep—damn. his girth, it was just appetizing, you needed gojo satoru carnally, more than anything.

you and him both knew that.

gojo smiles, watching you start to fondle with your perky nipples that visibly poked beneath your tank top, rocking your hips against him back and forth to where a low grunt leaves from his mouth every few seconds.

it was strenuous on how repetitive your movements were against him. who were you kidding though, you missed this. you missed him. perhaps though, in reality you just missed his dick.

yeah…. it was probably that.

“touch yourself as in..play with your pussy, dummy.” he teases, watching you whimper once he spanks you again, you’re feeling yourself become close each time he reaches deeper.

now your mouth starts to become dry, your head’s still spinning and you’re just about at a loss of words.

“…g-gonna cum soon, 'toru,” you alerted him, slithering your fingers down towards your throbbing clit. the stimulation made your eyes nearly close shut as his thick length drags across your cunt so righteously thorough, making sure to not miss a spot to reach you deep where you can feel his pure existence.

“aw,” he hums, gripping your hips to make you bounce harder on him. you whimper from gojo taking such initiative, holding onto him as he’s drilling himself into you basically since your legs were starting to become numb, you could barely ride him but you continued to bounce against him again and again, leaning into his neck to softly nibble and suck against his skin. “mhm. i missed you too.”

you could hear such arrogance drip from his voice, causing you to become more wet for him in the process. again, a perfect word to describe the entire situation would be:

embarrassing.

before long, you came and that was one of the best orgasms you’ve had in a long time. no matter how much you denied it, no one could you please you, fuck you, hell—pleasure you as much and good as gojo did. you throbbed immensely with your legs joining from how it was just shaking and shivering, your body practically going limp.

this brings such a smile to gojo’s face, still shamefully playing with yourself.

a hand dug deep between your pried open legs, your chest heaves as you stare at gojo and he pecks a kiss on your lips, muttering something along the lines of, “my good fuckin’ sloppy girl.”

but once he had you on your back, it was an entirely different story. gojo had completely dominance and control now—vigorous mean smacks and hits against your pussy, making sure to grow quiet purposely to hear how sinful your cunt was to him.

to say the least, he was addicted. your pussy was too good for him to not constantly fuck you.

gojo wasn’t too interested in relationships, but who was he to turn down a good fuck?

exactly.

you had so many orgasms pulled out of you, you practically lost count.

you were currently now just laid flat on your back, just about being folded. your pussy sang constant harmonies by how many times gojo made it squelch and cry out for him, for some reason he always loved putting you in mating press. partially because of the eye contact.

but also, he just loves to gently press against your tummy while staring deep into your eyes, speaking to you in such a phony-mocking tone, asking you if you feel him.

it’s a rhetorical question, you weren’t supposed to answer it because of course you feel gojo. his dick was pummeling in and out of your sweet cunt to where your vision started to turn a bit hazy. this position gave him an excuse to fuck you deeper, striking his hips against you repeatedly with your cute legs just sticking up in the air. perfectly hanging over his shoulders.

“you’re such a slutty girl, babe. always lettin' me break this pussy,” he pants, his voice turns more raspy to match his ruthless thrusts and you whimper, dragging your nails against his thick calves. his balls thwacked and thwacked against you, you felt so warm and you’re just a noisy mess.

you don't even realize you’re drooling while maintaining initiate eye contact with gojo. “..cute,” he raises his brows, bringing a thumb up to your lips to wipe it. “only i can make ya drool for cock, hm?”

you eagerly nodded, tears poking in your eyes. the dried up mascara sticking to your lashes still remained. “y-yes, satoru please. ‘s really good. want more.”

“course ya do,” he cursed, deepening his hits against you and you feel him reach more once he dips and pivots his hips. you moan, your mouth opening—a dramatic gasp type moan leaves your lips and he leans in to kiss you. you’re taken by surprise, but you sink into his warm embrace, running your needy tongue against his while he’s still occupying his cock between your tight stingy walls that was never gonna let him go.

the kiss was one word, sloppy.

partially because of you. you couldn’t think straight while you were getting mercilessly pounded in his bed. gojo tasted sweet, minty and a bit honeyed flavored, his tongue softly clashed against yours and you feel his lips form into a smile once he playfully sucks on your tongue.

his breathing along with yours was warm, it was really intimate, for a second you forgot about your depressing heartbreak—and it was all because of what’s between gojo’s legs, who knew.

butterflies started to form in your stomach, and it made you cringe, you really hoped you weren’t falling for him but he made it so hard. gojo’s been fucking you for hours and hours non-stop, his name approximately lived inside your head rent-free.

it’s all you were ever moaning out anyway, or just blabbering how you were about to cum again and again and again, he’s got you in a chokehold.

“f-fuck,” he groans, feeling himself swell. reaching his very peak. he felt a sensation brew up in his thighs as he continued to drill himself into your tight pussy that kept hugging onto him tightly. he loved how clingy you were. and you couldn’t exactly help it too, it was as if your body had a mind of it’s own. gojo’s strokes were so delicious, your eyes slowly roll back now just like his were, piercing the edges of your nails into his skin as you’re being fucked limp quite again. “gonna make me dump another load, babe. overflow your sloppy heartbroken pussy with s’much of me.”

his voice was a bit shaky now, it was honestly cute. droplets of sweat beads raced down gojo’s forehead as he’s panting, his breathing patterns were staggeringly fast-paced and rapid as he stares at you and—oh shit, he’s feral. you could see from how his pretty cerulean eyes never leave yours. it’s as if his pupils dilate just slightly each moment he gets more close.

he’s hungry, gojo licks his lips at just envisioning himself pumping you fell again, watching his own sticky cum pour out of your hole just to plug it back in again.

“fill me p-please, 'toru.” you begged, and his body weight was crushing you, not literally, but he was pressed against you—you were for sure limp now, your arms were just sprawled against your sides as your head just bounces back against the cushioned mattress within each deep thrust he presents to you. “stuff me full, satoru. breed m-me.”

“would be kinda funny if i made you a mama,” he whispers, his tone was playfully yet sweet, he was purely mocking you though. he’s maintaining deep eye contact as his thrusts transmits you to such a high, you whimper for him to continue because you were coming close too. “make this perfect tummy all swollen and r-round,” he sighs, rotating his hips against you—it was sloppy, an entire mess. some of his cum from him recently spilling into you dripped down your thighs and you moaned from how messy it was. “bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you.”

“m-maybe.” you muttered out, clinging onto his wrist and he chuckles.

“maybe?” he repeats after you, leaning in to kiss the side of your mouth—gojo’s buried entirely balls deep and you’re just panting and panting, both chasing your incoming releases.

you shiver a bit, feeling him rub a hand across your tummy, mimicking his previous action of pressing down on it. “tsk, poor dumb baby. can’t even think straight. bet all you’re thinkin’ about ‘s getting filled, huh?”

you sniffled, throwing your arms around gojo and he chuckles, licking a stripe up your neck only to sink his teeth against your collarbone lightly to hear you moan.

“s’ okay, babe. cum with me,” he says in a hushed tone, his voice was so deep and seductive, just hearing gojo’s voice against your ear was just enough to make you soaked already, as pathetic as it was. “be my messy girl, don’t be shy. love when you slut yourself out for me, it’s cute.”

“s-satoru,” you squeaked, your nails were piercing into his soft skin as your right thigh started to bounce against him as you chased your incoming high. “fuck, ‘s deep, satoru. fill me please.”

gojo kisses the top of your forehead as his hips strike and rummage inside your walls, you clamp down on his so good he grunts, it’s so raspy and pitched it makes you throb. “shit, better not waste it then. come on baby, relax,” and he’s talking you through your orgasm—acknowledging your changing breathing patterns that he knew whenever you were close, he brings a thumb towards your cheek to stroke your chin before smiling. “give it to me.”

you whimpered once another orgasm got stolen from you, you’re just being pounded into the mattress with random blabbering leaving your lips, you’re so dumb, so cockdrunk, again it’s really pathetic.

gojo groans, feeling you tighten against him before it’s his turn. his hips slow but still maneuver and pivot against you, and once he came, it was a thick load, he’s the one about to drool now. he averts his eyes towards your pussy, watching his own cum spill out of you, it’s hypnotizing to him. gojo runs a thumb against your slit and you whimper once he pauses his thrusts but slowly pulls out. a pop sound was created and you whined, wanting him to keep stuffing you full.

you craved it.

gojo leans in, kissing you for a final time and it wasn’t as sloppy like last time—more passionate and sincere, which scared you a little. you hoped you weren’t catching feelings. gojo probably hoped you were though.

“satoru.” you panted, once he pulled away. “i-i think i love you.”

he’s panting and catching his breath as well as you, he sits up with his toned biceps pressed against the sides of you before speaking in a low alluring voice. “babe?”

“babe?”

you blinked twice, and realized you were being shook lightly by the shoulders. the realization hit you like a truck once you realized geto was calling your name—he had a worried, almost pale expression on his face once he sees you come back to reality.

“suguru..?” you mumbled, in the same exact bed and still feeling dizzy from your many orgasms that got pulled from you the entire night.

“did you.. just call me, satoru?”

oh.

maybe you were just fantasizing the entire thing.

AWH

unexpected: part two. 

a/n: it’s lengthy. it’s late. i know. i’m sorry.

content: alcohol, vomiting

word count: 28.6k+

[ atsumu x reader ]

part one.

–––––

Third-year high schooler Miya Atsumu stepped into the shop and dragged his fingers along the edge of the first glass casing. A string of summer memories began to run through his head as his eyes trailed along each glass figurine, a small smile playing at his lips as he instinctively thought of you in fondness.

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