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++ 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈/𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

[summary] sukuna wants to bone you and he makes it yuji’s problem.

[cws] fem reader. masturbation -> yuji. sukuna has vivid fantasies about reader v.v

Yuji thinks you’re a nice girl.

You’re funny, cute, sweet, and you’ve put him on his ass a few times during training and left him thoroughly impressed.

But he doesn’t like you … like, like you like you.

You’re cool to hang out with, play games with, train with, and sometimes he prefers you over Megumi when he’s thinking of getting up to some mischief—all in all, you’re a good friend, but that’s all he sees you as, a friend, and he’s sure you feel the same about him.

…

So why can’t he stop fisting his cock to thoughts of you? Because of that damned curse taking up residence inside of him — the dirty pervert.

Sukuna’s got a thing for you, a nasty thing that puts lewd images in Yuji’s mind and makes his hands and cock ache to touch you. And Yuji doesn’t want to think about these things, no! He doesn’t want to think about how you’d look on your knees, teary eyes looking up at him as your lips stretch wide around his cock. He doesn’t want to think about how you’d look knuckle deep in your pussy, back arched and toes pointed as you fucked yourself. He doesn’t want to think about how tight and warm and soft and perfect your cunt would feel wrapped around him, no, he doesn’t want to think about any of those things!

But that’s all Sukuna thinks about, everyday all day - Yuji gets no reprieve.

If he sees you in the morning, your usual smile on your face as you greet him with a ‘hey, itadori!’, an image of your smiling face is flashing through his mind, except this time there’s spurts of cum on your swollen lips and your tongue is lolling out, eagerly waiting for more.

If he happens to glance over at the wrong —right, Sukuna always snarks back— moment during training and see that Maki’s got you bent in a precarious position, suddenly all he can see is images of his cock slamming in and out of your cunt, puffy lips slick and your cum coating his base, coarse hairs there weighed down with his and yours essence.

It’s sick, perverted, and he can’t do a thing about it but what he’s doing right now in the privacy of his dorm; choking back moans as he fucks his fist to the thought of you, hips bucking up off the bed as Sukuna pushes forth an image of you sat atop him, doughy thighs bracketed around his hips, fingers splayed out on his chest as you meet his thrusts.

He swears he can feel it, feel you - feel the heat of your cunt wrapping around him, feel your slick coating his shaft and dripping down to his balls, feel your nails digging into his skin as your pussy flutters and you come—

“Fuck me.” Yuji doesn’t know if that came from him or Sukuna, and he doesn’t have time to think about it before another image is flashing, this one starring you with your face pushed down into the pillows, purple nails contrasting perfectly against your skin as he spreads your cheeks open to watch your cunt swallow up his cock.

Yuji groans as his thumb, big and calloused, roughly swipes over his leaking tip, hand tightening around his base as his heels dig into his mattress. There’s a pulling feeling at his cheek, and a fierce heat envelopes him as Sukuna’s deep drawl filters out in the room.

His words are rough, quick, breathy, and Yuji desperately wishes he’d shut the hell up because he doesn’t want to think about how ‘warm your pussy is’, or how it ‘probably squeezes real tight when you come’, or how your ‘tits bounce when you’re getting fucked’, or how you’ll probably ‘squeal, moan and cry like some bitch in heat when he plays with your little clit’—you’re his friend, and he yours, and it’s so fucking wrong to be thinking of you like this, and it’s all because of him.

The next and final image is a quick flash, no more than a second or two, and Yuji snaps his eyes shut as his teeth grind together, veins along the backs of his hand bulging as his cock twitches in his grip. Ah.

Your thighs are spread, gapped open and limp against the ruined sheets, while two of his fingers spread your lips open, a white gush of cum dripping out of your stretched hole and trailing down between your ass cheeks.

Yuji shudders, eyes slowly blinking open to see the mess he’s made on his stomach and chest, and he lets out a weak groan as he turns to bury his sweaty face into his pillow, already dreading the next onslaught of images that’re sure to bombard him soon.

Room 505

Gojo x Reader, Geto x Reader , Nanami x Reader

summary : Geto and Gojo were the strongest sorcerers to date in Jujutsu Tech College, you looked up to them and wanted to be just as strong as they were. Lucky for you they were so happy and willing to help you. Under their tutelage you bloomed, but Nanami finds your relationship with them suspicious. A three day mission to exorcise a cursed spirit at a resort, reveals more than Nanami expected.

READ CONTENT WARNING BEFORE READING!

cw : dubcon/noncon , f!reader, Virgin!Nanami , threesome , unprotected sex, coercion, voyeurism, characters are of age ( setting is that Nanami and reader are 19 while Gojo and Geto are 20 in college ) , Gojo and Geto abusing their senpai status , slight degradation, creampie, manipulation, reader calls Geto and Gojo senpai, Nanami catches them and watches, implied squirting, face fucking, slight dumbification

wc: 6.4K

a/n: yes it’s been awhile and I come back with a threesome fic. Thank u for waiting if u waited afsgsjjd thank u for your patience. Hope this doesn’t disappoint huhu just ugh I’m down bad for these three. I suck at writing summaries. Gg. Anywhooo enjoyyyvand don’t forget to reblog and if you like scream and fangirl in my inbox or the comments Huhuhu also will proofread more afshsj don’t mind the errors

M I N O R S D O N O T I N T E R A C T

“Why don’t you go get us checked in?”

You were gently nudged to the front desk of the little holiday hotel, not objecting to the powerful jujutsu sorcerer and your senpai by a year in Jujutsu Tech College.

“We’ll look around and see if anything is suspicious, kay?” A soothing voice sounded from your left, the white haired male’s best friend patting your head as the two walked off together to check for any signs of the curse assigned to the team. The team being your two seniors, Geto and Gojo, and you and Nanami.

The blond lingered behind you, hands deep in his pockets and eying the lobby with his slanted eyes, paying you no mind as you checked in for them.

Nanami was usually paired with his best friend Yu on missions, and he wasn’t really enthusiastic about being given any as well. With Nanami, you could relax a little, his presence was soothing to you despite how quiet he appeared on the outside but really, once you strike a conversation that piques his interest he is very sociable.

“Nanamin,” you called out sweetly as you skipped to where he was, watching the people that passed by in the hotel’s lobby.

The moment your voice reached his ears, Nanami felt his ears burn and he met your eyes for a second only to keep his gaze away, opting to look at the beach a few metres out of the hotel.

“We should go check into the rooms,” you spoke, hands behind your back and playing with the hotel keys. “I tried to get three rooms since I knew you wouldn’t want to bunk with Gojo senpai but there were only two rooms left.”

“I can manage,” he reassured you, opening his palm for you to place the room key he was to share with the rest. He’ll probably hold onto it too, if Gojo gets it there’s a 98 percent chance he’d lose it and make you get a new one.

You placed the key on his open palm, his heart skipping a beat when your fingers brushed his skin and smiled at him.

He walked three steps behind you, admiring you a little as you walked ahead and waited for the elevator. The four of you hadn’t come here wearing your uniforms to blend in with the people, you had worn something Gojo had shoved into your hands and pushed you into the women’s restroom in the airport. The white summer dress hugged your torso snuggly, accentuating your curves and the skirt flowed daintily and loose around your waist to your calves. Simple and elegant.

The bell boy followed behind the two of you with Gojo, Geto, his and your bags. The young man eyed you up and down before glancing at Nanami, probably wondering about the nature of your relationship with him.

“Couple getaway?” He asked innocently.

“Huh?” You blinked at the question, your realisation settling in a little late, heat creeping up to your cheeks as you stumbled over your words.

Before the doors of the elevators closed, a foot stopped it from closing, making the doors open again.

“Darling, sorry I took so long,” Gojo’s voice sounded, round dark sunglasses set low on his nose bridge, walking in with Geto right behind him.

Gojo wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to his side and giving the blushing bellboy a wink.

You didn’t say anything, looking down at your feet instead, your face too hot and sweat collecting in your palms. You could feel Geto’s gentle yet piercing gaze on you, watching in amusement as the much taller male dwarfed you, pretending to be your lover.

Nanami looked away in annoyance, worry blooming deep within his chest as he thought about whether Gojo was making you uncomfortable or not. He was always far too close to his liking, crossing boundaries that you found hard to say no to. Geto usually gets his friend under control but sometimes joins in on the teasing as well.

You couldn’t say no. Not with how you idolised them. Looked up to them and took every praise, guidance and word of advice from them like gospel. It was merely because you believed them to be good people, like Yu, you chose to see and believe the good in people.

Nanami was relieved that Geto would never cross the line nor take advantage of you. He would keep Gojo in check.

“You tell me if our room isn’t to your liking, Hm?” Nanami overheard Gojo , who followed you into your room, still playing the role of boyfriend to fool the bellboy till he left.

“I-it’s fine,” you muttered softly, heart racing to be so close to the Gojo Satoru.

You’ve gotten so close with the two when they offered to tutor you and teach you everything they know, to help you control your cursed energy.

“Don’t worry about Satoru, Nanami. He’s just teasing as usual,” Geto brushed off, taking the middle bed out of the three in the room. He laid down on the bed, hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

“Were there any signs of the curse?” Your small voice broke the silence, Gojo strutting into the room and heading straight to the minibar.

“Not yet. Most of the cases happened after the sun had completely gone down. So we have to wait a bit,” Geto informed the team, Nanami absorbing the information to make sure he’d be able to protect you.

“How dangerous is it?” Your brows knitted together with worry, sitting on the edge of Nanami’s bed.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Gojo grinned with confidence, opening a can of soda. “Besides, you're the strongest right here.”

Nanami let out a deep annoyed sigh while Geto rolled his eyes.

“You won’t even need to lift a finger,” Gojo winked at you, sipping his drink, smirking at how you flushed and stared down at your folded hands on your lap. Oh, how your reactions made Gojo giddy.

“Do not underestimate her, Gojo,” Nanami crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m not,” Gojo pouted, sitting in his bed that looked out the balcony and the beach.

Before Gojo could say anything to aggravate Nanami, Geto sat up, offering you a warm charming smile.

“How about you and I go take a walk on the beach? I heard some kids talking about the shaved ice treats there. We still have time to kill anyway.”

Your lashes fluttered, tempted by the sweet treat mentioned. Like a child easily swayed, you nodded excitedly, the white bow tied in your hair bouncing as you nodded.

And just like that you and Geto were off to take a walk on the beach, Gojo pouting when he watched the two of you from the balcony, the gentle summer breeze blowing through your hair as Geto’s hand rested on the small of your back, while you laughed at something he said.

Nanami always had suspicions that Gojo would’ve taken advantage of you when you had asked him to be your mentor but it seemed that Geto has always kept Gojo in check, never letting him be any closer than he was now.

He’d be able to rest easy after the curse was disposed of.

But for now, he watched you laugh and smile with another man who might just be carving his way into your gentle heart that he wanted a place in.

The dead of night came too quickly and the curse was disposed of so easily. Nanami was already tucked in his bed, sighing at another day of fighting curses, wanting sleep to take him so that he wakes to a new day. He wanted to fall asleep before Gojo and Geto got back from partying in the beach bar, to avoid the drunken banter the two would have. He could hear the party faintly from the beach but it wasn’t that troublesome to affect his sleep.

He should check on you though. You didn’t go with them, wanting to stay in your room and take some time off to yourself since it was rare for all of you to be able to just lay back and enjoy life like normal people.

Nanami sat up. He’ll just knock and see if you’re awake, and then he’ll go back to bed. If anything sounds wrong he’ll come in with the spare key Gojo asked for safety reasons.

Pushing his hair back, he slipped out of bed, eyes already adjusted to the dark and made his way to the door.

“I-I still don’t know how this is supplemental to our tutoring” you murmured, crossing your arms over your naked chest, pulling your knees closer to yourself as he stared.

“Well since I offered to be your mentor, I need to get to know the way your body reacts,” he explained so believably you fell for it. He only wanted what’s best for you right? “Plus, it’s fun for me and Suguru. And from all the previous times, you had fun too. Remember?” He flashed you a smile, crawling closer towards you on the bed, his long lanky frame taking up most of the space.

“Come on, don’t hide yourself,” Gojo pouted, sapphire eyes glowing.

You glanced at Geto who sat on the edge of the bed, a cigarette between his lips and gave you a look of ‘Don’t worry too much.’ Hesitating, you slowly let your arms fall to yours sides, fingers curling to grip the sheets, heart pounding in your chest.

“Ah, I missed your tits,” Gojo sighed happily, mouth watering at the sight of your uncovered mounds, nipples hardening from the cold air.

Without a warning his fingers tweaked at your nipple, a shaky breath left you, trying to remain calm and collected. But he pinched and rolled them in a way that sent warmth to your core.

“Senpai…”. Your lips trembled, his face close to your chest, ogling your tits. “N-not too hars—ah!”

The way senpai fell so sweetly from your lips made Gojo shiver and take one of your breasts into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your hardened peak and sucking roughly. Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, a weak attempt to keep him away but his other hand was quick to cup and massage your other breast.

“Plus this is a way for you to give us something in return. A little exchange for helping you become a better sorcerer,” Geto mused, white smoke wafting through the air, the smell of tobacco mixing with the fresh scent of cotton.

“You learnt something of value today when I exorcised that curse today right?” Gojo asked, his face now close to yours, your breasts where his mouth had been now glistening with his saliva. He continued to tweak and massage your breasts with his large hands, squeezing just the right amount.

You nodded, biting your lip, your thighs visibly shaking and your breathing uneven. He burrowed his nose in the crook of your neck, licking along the column and pinching your nipples a little harder. You whimpered.

“I-I did.”

“And what do we say when we teach you something new?” Geto drawled with a lilt in his voice, scanning the curvatures of your body and how it was now arching into Gojo’s touch, who was now nipping and kissing along your neck and collarbones, leaving marks.

“T-thank you,” you squeaked out, heat collecting in your core.

This was the only way you could repay them, they said. The only fair way. You didn’t expect that you’d be losing your virginity a couple months back to Gojo and Geto, your body being the thing you paid your gratitude with.But then again, how was this supposed to be supplemental to becoming stronger?

One of Gojo’s hands left your breasts, it trailed downwards, caressing your stomach before tracing the band of your panties.

“Have you touched yourself without me knowing?” He suddenly asked, the question catching you off guard. You tried to squirm away, only to be stopped by the pillows against the headboard. “It’s okay if you did, as long as you were thinking of me.” He winked seductively, fingers skimming your covered pussy.

You shook your head, a trimmed white brow raising with surprise.

“Oh? So you must be extra sensitive then,” he chuckled, pressing onto your clit, making you squeeze his shoulders. He sighed against your neck, rubbing your pussy through the dampening cloth of your panties while Geto watched from the side, still smoking but enjoying the view nonetheless. He’d get his turn.

“You looked so cute in the dress I picked up for you,” Gojo hummed, feeling the throb of your pussy against his fingers that were slowly starting to get wet with your growing arousal. “I bet Nanami thought so too.”

The mention of Nanami had you looking down almost in defeat, embarrassed even. Did Nanami find you cute? He couldn’t. After he finds out what you’d been letting Geto and Gojo do with you…he might ignore you purely out of disgust. You didn’t want that. Your panic manifested into tears, your eyes watery as you wanted it all to stop.

“D-don’t want to do this,” you murmured softly, turning to your side, covering your chest with your arms again and folding your legs into your chest. “It feels wrong.”

You heard Gojo huff in disappointment. His playtime cut short.

But Geto had it all in control.

“What does?” He laid down behind you, pressing close to you, his hand caressing the side of your arm to soothe you.

“This.” Your voice trembled, embarrassed to say your reasons but the tears in your eyes begged to flow freely and soon enough you blurted out, “I always thought I’d be doing things like this with someone…someone I love.”

Your eyes widened when you realised what you had just said, gauging their expressions with panic.

“Love?”

“Don’t tell me…” Gojo’s smirk widened and you covered your face, closing the gaps of your fingers tightly not wanting to see a glimpse of their expressions. It was embarrassing enough as it is to be naked and vulnerable to them but that…

Cold fingertips caressed your thighs and the next thing you knew, you were flipped onto your back with thighs pressed to your chest. Your panty clad pussy exposed to bright sapphire eyes.

“You’re in love with Nanami?” He teased, pink tongue darting out to lick along your slit, the cloth dampening even further as you squirmed in his grasp.

“S-stop,” you tried to push him away but warm strong hands wrapped around your wrists, restraining you so that his best friend could have his way.

“Would you rather Nanami be the one doing all these things to you hm?” Geto rasped in your ear while Gojo pushed the crotch of your panties aside to kiss your clit, your body jolting at the sensation.

“Ah, s-senpai, please st-ah!” His lips latched onto your sensitive nub, tongue flicking furiously against it, electric shocks shooting through your core while a finger prodded at your clenching entrance. “Not there, please don’t.”

“You sure? You’re getting turned on though ,” Gojo quipped, his statement backed up when he dipped two fingers in your clenching hole. “And so wet.“

The moment his digits were hugged by your walls, he didn’t waste time in curling them, fingers that reached deeper than your own would. The lewd squelching sound of him stuffing your cunt filled the room as well as your breathy gasps, all words caught in your throat and all reason melting away.

“S-stop,” you whined, clenching around his fingers that were rubbing your walls so deliciously.

“What’s wrong?” Geto pouted, faux pity in his tone as he settled himself behind you, placing you on his lap spreading your further for Satoru. He pinned both wrists behind your back with one hand, softly humming when your ass rubbed against his stiffening cock. “You were so eager to please us before. You don’t want to disappoint us do you?”

“Ah—n-no,” you admitted, the obscene slurping sounds of Gojo playing with you with his mouth and tongue, starting to feel good. Too good. “But please don’t tell Nanami…d-don’t tell him. Please.” You begged, Gojo’s tongue pushing past your entrance and tasting your insides, the bridge of his nose grinding against your clit.

“He won’t ever know, Princess,” Geto cooed, grabbing your right breast roughly, tweaking your nipple between his fingers. “It’s always been and still will be our little secret.”

The wet appendage bullying its way within your walls, wriggled inside you in an unexplainable way. You couldn’t believe that the Gojo Satoru was between your thighs , licking and slurping away at your cunt as if it was something sweet that he’s craved for so long. It felt dirty for him to be so utterly close to your intimate area and that the same lips and tongue that would kiss you were doing the same down there.

But it felt so good. Every time the bridge of his nose ground against your clit when he slurped and fucked you with his tongue had the heat in your belly grow and spark into flames. Your hips would jut and wriggle, the sensations being too much and not enough at the same time. And it didn’t help that Suguru was kneading and massaging your breast, tweaking your nipples now and then.

“Fuck,” Gojo groaned against your heat. “Missed this sweet pussy.” Then he continued his assault, bringing you closer to the edge.

You whimpered out his name a couple of times, mumbling that it was too much, to slow down but it fell on deaf ears, resulting in the uncontrollable shake of your body as you came.

“You taste so good,” he hummed, holding your hips down and lapping your juices that spilled forth, wetting your pussy even more.

“It’s my turn now, Satoru,” Geto spoke calmly from behind you, running his hands along your sides.

Next thing you knew, Geto’s lips were on yours, sweetly kissing you with such care and passion, no time given to you to gather yourself nor process everything. You’d be lying if the way he handled you didn’t make your heart flutter. His large hands roamed the expanse of your body, caressing beneath your breasts before squeezing them and guiding you on all fours.

The cold air brushed against the exposed slick folds of your pussy, your trembling impossible to control you could only grip the sheets and stare at the way they crumpled, the ache within you burning.

With his thumb, he spread your lips apart, whistling at the sight of your pulsing pink hole before rubbing the tip of his cock along your folds. “Why don’t we try something new this time around, hm?” The mischievous lilt in his voice made you heat up further, clenching around nothing.

“You can take Satoru in your pretty mouth while I fuck you dumb from behind. How does that sound to you sweetheart?” He cooed, his flush tip circling around your clit making you moan. You couldn’t take the teasing. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want this, didn’t want to repeat over and over the secret meetings you three would have. You’ve always looked up to Geto and Gojo, admired them, loved them. But the love you had for Nanami was different. The way he made your heart flutter and warm was different from the searing hot heat that Geto and Gojo provided.

“Geto-senpai …” you had whispered, gripping the sheets, melting bit by bit by his hot cock prodding at your entrance, your walls begging to be stretched, to be filled. “N-need you inside. P-please. I promise to be good.” You panted, the greed within you blinding logic.

“Sweet Angel,”Geto sighed, his grips on your hips tightening as he popped the head of his cock inside of you, a moan of relief leaving your lips. “You’ve always been good for us.”

“Too good,” Gojo added, tilting your head up with his thumb, his usually bright electric blue eyes a dark glowing blue. His thumb swiped your lip while Geto slowly inched his way inside of you, stretching your walls deliciously. You couldn’t fight back the moan that left you as you stared at Gojo’s expressions.

“Best fucking pussy,” Geto groaned from behind, sinking to the hilt, the fullness driving you crazy, your walls and clit tingling from it all.

Gojo swiped your lips once more, this time with the tip of his cock, the slit leaking beads of precum that in your lustful daze, made you lick the pink head to taste him. Gojo swore and threw his head back, letting you swirl your tongue around his tip before you let him slip past your lips.

You moaned around his cock when you felt Geto draw back, only to thrust back in languidly before building up the pace. One that was too fast it had you squeezing him tight, where his cock was brushing against your sweet spot inside you, one that Gojo began to match as he held you by the hair and was fucking into your mouth, then deep in your throat.

“Shit, keep fucking her like that, her throat gets tight when you hit her sweet spot,” Gojo moaned, staring at your pretty bleary eyes, darkened with lust, looking up at him so cutely as you gagged and drilled around his cock. Fuck, you were gonna make him cum so fast if you kept looking at him like that.

“Such a good girl aren’t you?” Geto grunted, driving his hips til it slapped with your ass over and over, his eyes catching glimpses of the creamy ring of white forming at the base of his cock. “You’re so hot baby.” He groaned, fucking your harder you screamed around Gojo’s cock.

They felt so good. It was euphoric. All you could think about was how good they were making you feel, how hot and heavy their cocks were inside you, and how their praises fell so sweetly from their lips.

In the darkness of the small hall by the door, dark eyes watched silently. They watched the way the two men dwarfed your frame, how Geto’s fast thrusts made your breasts bounce til your arousal was leaking down and glistening on your inner thighs, and how Gojo’s balls slammed against your chin as he fucked your pretty face, drool dripping down your chin.

His breath was caught in his throat and he was desperately trying to deny the heat that began to bloom within him at the sight of you getting fucked. Trying to control the hardening of his own cock in his boxers. He was supposed to be filled with fury and thoughts to reprimand his seniors for abusing their power over you but instead he was wondering about how warm your mouth was and how hot and tight your walls would be.

This was wrong, he told himself silently, his eyes on you the entire time. And the sight before him, his two seniors fucking you at the same time was something he didn’t expect to walk in on, he was hoping to see you in your bed, fast asleep. Not on all fours taking two cocks as if you were in heat.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” Gojo groaned, hips stilling in one final thrust, his hand tangled in your hair pressing you further down til your nose was pressed on his pelvic bone. You unintentionally clenched your walls as you felt his hot cum spill down your throat, taking all he was giving you. “Good girl.” Gojo praised, grinning as he pulled out, hints of his cum still present on your pink tongue.

Arms trembling, your upper body fell onto the bed, Geto’s grasp on your hips kept your ass up, your body jolting forward from each hard and deep thrust. Your fingers curled against the sheets, moaning at the way his balls slapped against your clit, his name falling in soft chants.

“C-cum…ah—,” you panted against the sheets, broad furrowing as you were getting closer to the edge. “Make me cum, s-so close. Feel so good. I—ah. Please. Please. Please.”

Geto swore at the small pleads, one hand snaking around your waist as he pressed his torso against your back, his hot breath against your ear as his fingers found your clit.

“Fuck, you’re getting so tight around me baby,” Geto moaned in your ear, the silkiness in his voice made you clench around him. “Pretty girl likes to get praised doesn’t she?” He teased, rubbing your sensitive pearl, your moans getting louder and higher, the steady pounding of his cock into your cunt and the pressure on your clit hurling you to the edge.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Geto burrowed his face in the crook of your neck, hips increasing in pace. “Take my cum, baby. Fuck.”

“N-no, not inside,” you gasped, the pressure on your clit making your eyes roll back, your protests ceasing almost immediately as your orgasm hits you.

Geto’s hips stuttered as the pressure at the base of his spine released, pulling out and pumping himself till he came all over your back. The hot spurts painted your skin white and he squeezes your ass in appreciation. you were lucky Gojo wasn’t fucking you then, he would’ve cum inside you and Geto wasn’t that cruel, he still cared for you in more ways than one.

Your head was spinning, the tingling sensation that exploded from your core washed over you like waves. The warmth that painted your stomach heated your skin and with heavy lidded eyes you glanced down to see the mess of his cum, panting as you tried to catch your breath.

“My turn!” Gojo chirped like a boy waiting for his turn at a toy. His large hand grabbed your ankle pulling you to the foot of the bed to carry you, back pressed against his chest and his arms hooked beneath your knees, his tip rubbing on your clit making you whine.

“S-senpai , wait,” you breathlessly spoke up, slumped against him, his strong arms supporting your weight. “I just c-ca—ah!”

His cock easily slipped inside you, splitting your walls apart again so quickly after your orgasm, you squeezed him tight. From where Nanami stood, he could see your pussy so clearly in the dim lighting. It glistened with slick and your cute lips were parted to accommodate Gojo’s lengthy cock, the sight made him even harder.

“How does it feel, Princess?” Gojo rasped in your ear, feeling your slick coat his length and drip down his balls.

“G-good. Feels good,” you admitted shamelessly, thighs shaking as he began to thrust up into you. “S’too much, Gojo.”

“Mhm? Make up your mind, baby,” he groaned, eyes closing at the sweet sensation of your soft walls hugging him. “You’re so fucking wet.” He pistons into you, your whines and moans filling the room once more. “I bet Nanami would love to fuck this pretty pussy too.”

A lump formed in the blonds throat, still stood in the shadows of the hall, the room door behind him closed. Why was his name brought up? Did Gojo know he was here? He should’ve known better. He should turn away now before he gets caught and makes you uncomfortable. It was already bad that he had stood there and watched you get fucked by his seniors, and enjoyed hearing your sweet sinful moans.

“You want that don’t you, Princess?” Gojo pressed on, his pace unrelenting, desperate to finish inside you. “Want Nanami to fuck you just as I do and fill your precious womb with cum.”

Nanami’s fingers barely touched the steel knob, pausing on his way out , his curiosity getting the better of him.

You could only whine in response, core clenching tight, the sensation of Gojo’s cock scraping your walls and brushing your g-spot, bringing you closer to the edge once more. They made you feel so good, it always felt like a dream.

“You little slut,” Gojo chuckled deeply, feeling your walls clamp around him. “Of course you want that. Why don’t you put on a show for him then, hm? Look.”

Panic surged throughout your body, eyes forcing itself to focus on the surroundings of the room, making out the unmistakable silhouette in the dimmed entryway. Your hands immediately covered your face in embarrassment, body growing hotter and hotter.

He was here. Nanami was seeing you like this.

“N-no,” you whimpered when your back met the bed, exposing your front to Nanami’s dark eyes. How much did he see? How did he get in? What was he thinking? A soft pressure on your throbbing pearl had you crying out. Why did it feel so good even when he was here? Why isn’t he looking away?

“Fuck, I’m cumming. Fuck,” Gojo hissed over and over, bliss seeping through his features and his grip on your hips tightening. “Watch Nanami, see how good she takes it.”

As everything Gojo appeared to be, even his moans, the one he makes especially when he finished, were pretty. He stilled inside you, cock pulsing as he shivered at the rippling pleasure up and down his spine. Warm heat flooded your insides, the sensation of his seed pouring into your womb making you softly moan in bliss, mind disregarding the idea that he actually came inside you. You were against it. You were. But it felt so good. The seeping warmth, the heat of his pearly white skin against yours and his breath fanning your neck as he caught his breath. It was all too good.

“N-na…,” you drawled softly, trying to form the syllables of the blonds name who stood by. Your eyes scanned him over, blinking away the drowsiness that came with the high. His face was flushed pink, lips slightly parted and as your eyes trailed lower, you could see the prominent bulge in his dark navy plaid pyjamas.

Did he want you too?

“Fuck,” Gojo hissed, pulling away, cock slipping out of you and bright blue eyes observing the white the seeped out your abused hole. “Shit, that’s hot.” He grinned proudly, getting a good look. “Suguru, look. This is what you’re missing out on.”

The raven haired stole a glance, admiring the creampie that Satoru just gave you.

“There’s always next time,” Geto reminded him, a smirk working it’s way up his lips as he tilted his head still crying your pink heat. He’ll definitely get his turn. But first…

“You know she can help you with that,” Geto’s voice pierced through Nanami’s trance, who almost drooled at what he just saw.

“W-what?” He cleared his throat, fists clenched on his sides, telling himself to resist.

“That.” Geto tilted his head, gesturing to the blonds hard on.

“I-I’m fi—,”

“Kento…”

‘No. Don’t say my name that way’ , his teeth ground against each other. The call of his name forcing his eyes that had been on the ceiling to you. Gojo laid by your side, caressing your cheek and praising you, while you looked at him. Dainty fingers reached out to him, palm up, beckoning him to come closer.

“W-want you too,” you murmured softly, the shyness in your voice evident to his ears. The chosen words made him blush. This couldn’t be real.

And yet, he took a step forward. Then another…and another.

His body moved on its own before his mind could process what he was doing. He chanted the word ‘Resist’ over and over, even when Gojo placed his hands on his shoulders, making him sit on the edge of the bed, telling him that this was his chance.

Even when you had straddled his lap, your arms draped over his shoulders, your lips brushing his nose, your very being just so treacherously close, was breaking his resolve, tearing it down piece by piece so easily.

Nanami winced when your hand wrapped around his length, aligning it to your heat. There was little to no fight in him left, not when the woman he sought after, admired, fell in love with, was taking initiative in the way he could only dream of.

The way you moaned in his ear when his leaking head popped inside your cunt began in him an addiction he never thought he’d have. He wanted to hear those sounds from you again, he wanted to be the reason for your moans, for your pleasure.

“K-Kento,” you whimpered, sinking lower unto his length. “Ah—you’re inside.” You breathed out shakily, walls tightening around him, a soft grunt leaving Nanami at the sensation.

Slowly, despite your tired body, you rocked your hips up and down his length, the heat and the pressure drawing you into a trance, already lost at the feeling of Nanami filling you up.

“She feels great doesn’t she?” Gojo mused, watching you ride the usually stoic man before you.

Nanami could hear the grin on his senior’s face, no quick retort nor remark could leave him. Not with how your walls enveloped him so tightly. Instead his hands found purchase on your hips, guiding you along his cock. He could feel your arousal leaking from you, along his length and down his balls. It was so easy to thrust into you with the mess of your wetness and the previous man’s cum. It was all so dirty.

“A-ah—feel s’good,” you moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing his face to your chest, your body trembling with pleasure.

“Awe, look at our little Princess,” Gojo cooed, watching your cute lewd expressions. “She finally gets the man that she wanted.”

“She looks pretty when she’s fucking like that.” Geto chimed in, lighting a cigarette a he enjoyed the show before him.

“Oi, Nanaminnn. Isn’t this your first time?” The white haired man chortled from behind.

The blond ignored them both. Too lost with the heat of your body against his. Too lost with the squeeze of your velvety walls. Your moans, your gasps, the cute whines of his name on your lips. All of it. It was dizzying.

Gently, Nanami switched your positions. Your back pressed against the bed with him between your legs, and his string hands on either side of your head, pinning you below him as he thrusts into you again at his own pace. Fast and deep, giving you all he’s got.

You cried out at the new position, feeling another orgasm quickly building up in your very sensitive core. But the warmth that enveloped you this time was different. It was like the first morning rays of sun against your skin, comforting and sweet. It was because it was Nanami. As your body rocked from the power of his thrusts, you admired him above you. His blond hair was matte and no longer neatly swept back, bangs falling over his dark eyes, and a pink blush dusted his cheeks, and his lips were glossy and parted slightly as he grunted and panted above you.

Nanami wouldn’t be able to last long. Not with how you were looking at him.

“F-fuck,” he groaned under his breath, pressing his torso against yours and guiding your leg with one hand to wrap around his waist. He was close. And by the way your cunt was tightly sucking him in, you were close to.

“C-cum with me,” you breathed out, wrapping your arms around his neck, his cock drilling into you relentlessly, fat cockhead kissing your cervix with each thrust and brushing your g-spot. “F-fill me up, please. Want you to cum inside me.” You babbled, your words only spurring him on.

“Fuck, she’s so pretty when she begs like that. It’s getting me hard again.” Gojo groaned from the back.

Nanami reached between the two of you, fingers finding your swollen pearl and massaging it in a circular motion, your walls tightening even more around his length.

“Cum for me,” he rasped against your ear. The gruff, deep timbre of his voice made your whole body shiver and melt even further for him.

His thrusts quickened and his fingers continued to rub your clit, your nerve endings becoming more sensitive with each second. You could feel it. The tightening in your stomach, the build up of pressure in your lower belly. Your moans were leaving you without restraint at this point, feeling too utterly good from his cock, til the knot inside you snapped. You came all over him, your sweet release dripping down his muscular thighs and onto the bed, and in a couple of thrusts, his release soon followed, and you basked are the blissful expression on his face.

“I l-love you,” you murmured, against his neck, as he stilled on top of you, cock pumping out his seed into your womb. The warmth welcomed and even making you giggle. You were happy to be connected with Nanami like this. Your heart felt full.

He softly moaned against your ear, your confession making this messed up union, sweeter than it should have been. He could feel you milking his cock, walls pulsating against his length, taking what you could of his cum while the excess leaked out of your abused hole.

“Feels nice to cum inside her huh?” Gojo quipped from the back, cock hard again and hoping for another turn. “Shit, you made me wanna go agai—

“You’ve had your turn dipshit,” Geto grabbed his friend by the ear, dragging him towards the armchair in the corner of the room.

Nanami slowly parted from you, blushing at the sight of your pussy leaking with his cum. He didn’t know what to say. What could he possibly say?

“Are you okay?” He cleared his throat, lying beside you, letting you catch your breath.

You nodded with the sweetest smile on your face.

“You’d be surprised with how much she can take, Nanami,” Geto spoke, the bed dipping in your side as he settled beside you, turning you on your stomach. “The night is far from over. Plus,” he smirked, pushing your puffy lips apart just to get a good view of your cum filled pussy. “I haven’t come inside her yet, and you,” he helped you to your hands and knees, your face perfectly close to Nanami’s cock.

“You haven’t even gotten to try her mouth yet. As you can see….” he lined himself with your cunt, sheathing himself instantly to not let any cum go to waste, only to find your walls greeting him with a gentle squeeze. “She doesn’t disappoint.”

---

Basic Training (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, minor character deaths, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

Keep reading

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Ulterior Motives

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f! student Reader

Synopsis: Gojo becomes a little bit infatuated with his bratty new student.

Warnings: Explicit smut, noncon, teacher/student relationship (reader is 18+), possessive behavior, manipulation

Tags: Spanking, panty gag, dacryphilia, dirty talk, vibrators, bondage, orgasm torture, bratty reader, humiliation

Word Count: 24.4k

Notes: This one is for ABanonymous, I hope you didn’t mind the wait and I especially hope you enjoy the story. The title IS a reference and if you know, you know.

Next requested fic I will have out next Saturday, and that’s a pinky promise.

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Anywhere but here

You wake from a traumatic injury to find everything around you isn't the same.

Pairing: Jimin x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Nurse Jimin, smut, angst

Word count: 7.2k

Warnings: Swearing, sex, traumatic injury, hospitals, memory loss

When you wake, it’s like you’ve been reset to factory settings. You’re not a robot, but there was a you before, and now there’s a you after.

The accident cut your life into halves, and that’s the reality that you’ve been dealt. 

The people around you are nameless faces apart from your family. Your parents, your younger sister and a man you don’t know but he says he knows you.

You can’t imagine what it’s like for them to lose the woman that was the old you and pick up the new you, metalwork in your thigh and a scar along the back of your head that they gave you an uneven choppy haircut to fix.

You don’t have the headspace to try and remember the names of everyone else who cares for you.

There’s the slim woman with a ponytail and kind eyes who always smiles cheerfully when she greets you.

There’s the stern looking older woman who never smiles but has gentle hands.

And then there’s the young guy who looks like he belongs in a magazine who you find a little intimidating, to be honest.

The brain injury means you take longer to process, sometimes you know what you want to say but the words won’t come. It’s annoying but you’re assured it will get better.

More pressing is the frame on your leg from where you broke your femur in multiple places. It took you a while to get used to trying to get around on crutches without help, because there was no way you were going to ask the young guy to help you to the bathroom. 

You don’t think there’s anything left of your dignity but you’ve got some pride still.

You’re sitting awkwardly on your bed, listening to the man you don’t know but who seems to know you, trying to shift positions because your leg is singing a chorus of pain, when the young male nurse walks into the room wheeling a portable blood pressure monitor.

‘Time for some observations,’ he says, politely.

You take the opportunity to move into the chair and hold out your arm.

The nurse frowns a little. ‘Your blood pressure and heart rate are up. Are you in pain?’

‘A bit,’ you admit, an understatement. 

‘I’ll get you pain relief,’ he says.

It’s another fifteen minutes before he comes back with the meds, another fifteen minutes after that before you can draw a breath.

The man who you don’t know but you’re told you used to love is telling you about people you don’t know, and it’s not nearly distracting enough.

When he leaves you want to cry with relief.

The door to your room opens, the nurse walks in. He checks on the IV that’s running, you hold out your arm because that’s the routine.

As he disconnects the drip, he turns to you. 

‘There’s a call bell,’ he points out. ‘If you’re in pain don’t wait, just call and one of us will come.’

‘Thank you,’ you say. You’re wrung out, emotionally exhausted, physically stretched, and all you want to do is pull the covers over your head and be alone.

You’re never physically alone in hospital, there’s no fucking privacy, and somehow you feel lonely anyway.

***

The calendar on the wall orientates you to the day and month, and you’re not so bad that you can’t remember the year.

It’s your birthday today they say, another year older even though you’ve gone nothing but backwards since the accident.

Your family bring you cake, fluffy slippers, and love that makes you feel warm. The man, you know he’s called Taemin, that you were about to marry him, why do you think of him as ‘the man’ in your head?

He calls you sweetheart and you think he means it less and less every day.

Today he kisses you, lips on yours and you weren’t expecting it, weren’t ready.

He pulls away, a flicker in his eyes that looks like disappointment that you see before he can hide it.

You want to say that it’s not fair, that you can’t be expected to be the person you were before, but the words don’t come.

You stammer an apology, make it worse.

You only feel relief when he leaves.

Lately they’ve been letting you wheel yourself down to the restaurant, out to the front of the hospital. 

It’s tiring, but it’s nice to be out of your room. 

You press the call bell, and the male nurse comes in. 

He looks rushed, busy, but he’s already here so you might as well ask.

‘Can I borrow a wheelchair to go downstairs?’

He says, ‘yes, of course. It’ll take me a while because it’s quite busy at the moment, but I’ll try and bring one up when I can.’

You thank him and settle in by the window to wait.

The late afternoon sun turns into early dusk, and he doesn’t come back.

You’re getting ready to manoeuvre yourself back into bed when there’s a knock at your door.

It’s the male nurse, dressed in his street clothes instead of scrubs. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘It got so busy, I completely forgot.’

You look at the wheelchair he’s handling.

‘Would you still like to go?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,’ you say. You’re worried you sound desperate but you’ve been cooped up in your room all day and you want to go out even if you don’t get to see daylight.

He helps you into the chair. The ID badge tucked under his jacket says ‘Jimin.’

You try to commit it to what remains of your memory. 

‘Jimin,’ you say, hoping that saying it will make it stick. 

‘Y/N,’ he replies, giving you a smile that makes his eyes scrunch up.

‘Were you on your way home?’ you ask.

‘Yeah,’ he says. 

‘Thank you for this,’ you say. You put your hand on his arm, and he moves it away so quickly it’s hard not to feel stung.

‘Sorry,’ you say, putting your hands in your lap.

He’s quiet as he pushes you to the lifts.

‘I can push myself,’ you tell him. ‘You should go home, it’s past your shift.’

‘I’m heading down anyway,’ he replies, very politely.

You sneak a glance at his profile as the lift descends. 

He’s pretty, even fourteen hours into a thirteen hour shift. His nose is straight, lips full, and his skin glows like it’s lit from within.

You catch a glance at yourself in the mirrored wall. Your uneven hair that you’re still growing out makes you grimace.

You look down at your lap quickly. 

‘Are you ok?’ he asks.

You force a smile. ‘I know the docs saved my life, but they ruined my hair,’ you say, trying to make a joke of it.

Jimin’s quiet again.

‘I was joking,’ you say, quickly. ‘I’m grateful for everything.’

Thankfully, the lift doors open.

‘Good night,’ you say, smiling at him.

He asks,’will you be ok?’

‘Yes,’ you say. Wild horses couldn’t drag any other answer from you.

He looks at you for a moment longer, then he nods and turns to leave.

***

Physical therapists are demons in disguise, you think disgruntledly to yourself as today’s therapist tries to encourage you to get out of the chair.

Your thigh is screaming in pain, you’re tired and dizzy and sweating from exertion.

As soon as the therapist leaves, you press your call bell and a nurse arrives.

It’s not someone you’ve met before, you know they’ve been short staffed lately.

His ID badge says Matsu. 

You ask for pain relief.

He says, firmly, ‘you shouldn’t ask for pain relief unless the pain is bad. The last thing you need is an opiate addiction.’

You’ve never been denied pain relief before.

You feel a wave of shame.

Is he right? Are you addicted? Does it matter?

The pain’s bad though, your stomach’s churning and clenching.

‘The pain is bad,’ you say, dignity be damned, pleading.

‘I’ll check on you in an hour and if you’re still in pain I can give you some then,’ he says.

He’s out the door before you can formulate a reply.

You sit very still, try to distract yourself. The pattern on the ceiling’s swirling, you’re concentrating so hard.

The door opens, the male nurse called Jimin comes in, and you bite your lip so hard you taste metal on your tongue.

He’s saying something, but you can’t hear it over the rush of blood in your ears.

He comes closer, leans over you, voice firmer now. 

You can hear your name.

You gaze up into his face, and he looks so kind, and concerned, the tears start trickling down your face.

‘Please,’ you whisper. ‘I’m in pain.’

Jimin leaves and comes back, hangs an IV on the drip stand above your head, connects it up and opens the port.

The cold trickle through your veins makes you shiver but soon enough relief comes, so sweet and welcoming you start crying again.

You don’t know how much time has passed before you realise Jimin’s still in your room, typing notes into the computer. 

He says, ‘don’t let it get that bad next time.’

His voice is quiet, neutral, but you can’t help the flash of anger.

‘I asked for the painkillers, and the nurse told me to hold out as he didn’t want me to be addicted,’ you reply, sharp. 

You can hear the tone of your voice as it comes out, and you hate it. The thing that you resent most about the constant pain is the way it’s draining away your generosity, your indulgence, your humour. 

You can’t stand yourself.

Jimin, instead of snapping back, somehow manages to reply with a kindness that makes you feel even worse.

‘I’m sorry the nurse said that,’ he says, sounding regretful. ‘Please know you can ask for pain meds anytime.’

You’re still crying, indulging in your moment of self-pity, wallowing in it. 

God, you hate yourself.

The only thing you hate more is the pain.

***

You’re going for another trip out, you’ve started spending more time outside now that the weather’s better.

You’re waiting to be let out of the double doors to the ward when the nurse, Jimin, passes by.

‘There’s a hairdresser in the hospital,’ he tells you. ‘They’re open now, and they didn’t have any customers when I checked.’

You look at him, considering.

‘Since you said you didn’t like your hair,’ he adds.

You smile. ‘Thanks. I’ll check it out.’

You look at your reflection in the mirror of the elevator on the way down, and impulsively, decide to visit the hospital hairdresser.

It takes you a bit of back and forth to find it, you’re sweaty and frazzled by the time you press on the buzzer.

A woman with bright orange streaks in her hair answers. She gives you a once over, then smiles, kind.

‘You must be Y/N? Jimin said you might come.’

You’re surprised. ‘You know Jimin?’

‘Honey,’ she says, taking the handles of your wheelchair and pushing you in front of one of the mirrors, ‘everyone knows Jimin. He’s a sweetheart.’

‘He’s easy on the eyes too,’ agrees another woman, smirking. The tag on her chest says ‘Suzie’.

‘Jimim said those neurosurgeons did a number on your hair,’ the first woman says. She winks at you. ‘Lucky for you I’m an expert on cleaning up after them.’

You’re startled into a laugh. 

Her smile brightens. ‘You’re so pretty! And you’ll look even better when we’re done.’

An hour later, you find yourself in the lifts on the way back to your ward.

You can’t stop staring at yourself in the mirrors.

Is this what you used to look like? You’ve seen a few pictures of you. Taemin’s lockscreen is a picture of you and him on a beach, but you don’t think you look exactly the way you looked before. 

Rhonda, the hairdresser who greeted you at the door, had waved you away when you tried to pay her, saying all patients got their haircuts on the house.

You’re waiting to be let back into the ward when you hear a familiar voice.

It’s Jimin, smiling at you so broadly you blink a little at how pretty he looks.

‘You went! Your hair looks beautiful,’ he says.

You look at him searchingly but he seems perfectly sincere.

‘Thank you,’ you tell him. You give him a half-smile. ‘They like you a lot down there.’

Jimin laughs. ‘That’s because I let them do whatever they want to my hair.’

He rakes a hand through his hair to illustrate, and you notice he’s got a new undercut beneath the blonde curtain of his hair.

‘Pretty,’ you say, admiring.

Jimin glances at you. ‘Just like you,’ he replies.

You laugh, because he can’t possibly be serious. ‘Please, in this old thing?’

You pluck at a fold in your hospital gown, and Jimin says, deadpan, ‘the green specks in the fabric really complement your eyes.’

You laugh again.

Jimin asks, ‘Need a push back to your room?’

‘Nah,’ you say. ‘I can do it.’

Jimin nods. ‘Let me know if you need anything.’

It’s only when you get back to your room that you realise that your conversation with Jimin, short as it was, is the first real conversation you’ve had in a long time.

***

Taemin’s looking at you very seriously, and a sudden flash of intuition tells you what he’s going to say before he says it.

‘I can’t do this anymore,’ he tells you.

You concentrate hard on the hand he’s put on top of yours. 

Was his touch ever familiar to you? All you feel is detached.

You search his face, the curve of his brow, the line of his jaw. He’s attractive even now, but did you ever really love him the way he said you did?

It’s only been a few months since the accident. 

Did he ever really love you if he’s this keen to move on without you?

The tears come as a surprise.

He looks alarmed now, as the wetness spills from your eyes, down your cheeks.

You know it’s unfair for you two to be in limbo like this, especially when you don’t think the old you is ever coming back.

It’s just the new you, the now and forever you left.

You assure him you’re fine, that it’s the right thing to do. 

He tells you he’ll pack up your things and deliver them to your parents’ house.

You tell him to throw everything away.

What use do you have for the trappings of a life you can’t remember?

It seems like hours before you gather yourself together enough to go back to your solitary room.

You put yourself to bed because you think you’ve had enough of today, and you can only hope tomorrow will be better.

***

It’s Halloween, and you’re amusing yourself with the thought that you don’t even need a costume this year to look frightening.

You’ve had another operation, your leg’s healing well enough that the surgeons have taken the frame off, leaving a collection of red scars and a leg you don’t trust without the external metalwork.

Without the scaffolding that held you upright for months.

Your hair’s grown out, the scar across the side and back of your head is covered but if you run your fingers along your scalp you can still feel it. 

The doctors tell you that you’ll be home before Christmas.

You refrain from telling them you can’t remember a home apart from this hospital bed.

Nobody likes a killjoy.

You glance up as someone knocks on your door.

It’s Jimin, a satin cape over his scrubs, plastic fangs peeking out between his lips.

‘Are you here for my blood?’ you ask.

It’s a joke you wouldn’t have been quick enough to make a month ago.

Jimin frowns at you. ‘Where’s your costume?’

You gesture to your leg. ‘I’m the Tin Man,’ you tell him.

‘You are pretty heartless,’ Jimin agrees.

You snort. ‘You’re a nurse, aren’t you supposed to be caring?’

Jimin says, ‘I do care. There’s going to be fireworks later, I got permission to take you to the park if you want.’

You can’t believe your ears. ‘The park? As in, out of the hospital? Do you mean the car park?’

Jimin smiles. ‘I mean the park next to the hospital. An actual park.’

‘When?’ you ask, guarded, not letting yourself get excited, worried he’s going to tell you it’s a joke.

‘I clock off at eight, I’ll take you then.’

You know how hard he works, you’ve been on this ward for months and you think he’s been here almost as much as you have. And you literally live here.

You want to ask why he’d spend his precious time off with you but god help you, you want to go to the park more.

You haven’t been off hospital grounds since you were admitted, a mangled mess of broken bone and blood.

Jimin’s looking at you. ‘If you don’t want to —-‘

‘I want to!’ you say, so quickly you startle both of you.

He’s still eyeing you carefully, so you say, ‘I just feel bad taking up your time off.’

‘It won’t be long. I don’t live far from the hospital anyway,’ Jimin says. 

He smiles, and he looks so kind you feel like crying. ‘So are we going?’

‘Yes,’ you tell him. ‘Yes I’d love to.’

***

You feel an unfamiliar fluttering of butterflies in your stomach as you wait by the entrance to your ward for Jimin to finish handing over his patients.

Jimin hurries up to you. He looks a little tired, but he smiles kindly at you. ‘Ready?’

He’s dressed in his street clothes, a plain t-shirt, a hoodie and jeans, and you catch yourself thinking how pretty he looks, even in casual clothes, tired after a long shift.

Shit.

Do you have a crush on him?

At least you don’t have to think about him having a crush on you, you think ruefully. All he’s seen of you are your dumb jokes which you can’t even blame on your brain injury, your hideously scarred leg and your terrible post neurosurgery haircut.

You think you’re good.

Jimin takes the handles of your wheelchair as you leave out the main entrance of the hospital.

‘Thanks for taking me out on your own time,’ you say, wishing you could see his face.

‘It’s not a problem at all,’ Jimin tells you. ‘Like I said, I live close.’

You feel lighter the further you get from the hospital, the fluttering in your stomach getting stronger. 

Is this what happiness feels like? Excitement? 

Jimin parks you by the side of the lake.

‘I’ve got some time off after this, anyway,’ he says.

‘Yeah? Going skiing?’

Jimin looks at you, bemused.

‘Sorry,’ you say, apologetic. 

Your injuries are from a skiing accident. At least that’s what you were told. You sure as hell can’t remember it.

You want to say something else, but you’re distracted by the sudden eruption of fireworks, over the lake. 

A starburst of metals burning in the sky.

You don’t realise you’re laughing until you notice the way Jimin’s looking at you.

His face gleams red and orange in the light reflected off the lake. 

He’s beautiful.

You stop, self-conscious. 

‘Don’t,’ Jimin says. ‘Don’t hide it on account of me, you look so happy.’

A shower of purple falls gently, and it’s so pretty you could cry.

You could keep watching forever.

‘I haven’t seen your fiance in a while,’ remarks Jimin.

Distracted, you say, ‘we broke up.’

Jimin looks at you sharply, you feel the need to explain.

‘He said he couldn’t do it anymore,’ you tell him. You shrug. ‘It’s ok. I know I’m different to how I was before.’

Jimin says, casual, ‘What a dick move.’

You’re startled into a laugh. ‘Isn’t it? But I don’t have any feelings for him either, not now anyway. It would have been a farce.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Jimin says. ‘If you’re committed in health ——‘

‘I don’t know how committed we were,’ you say quietly. ‘I can’t remember a damn thing about us.’

You’re both quiet for a moment.

You ask, to break the silence, ‘what are you doing with your time off?’

‘I’m going travelling,’ Jimin says. He looks at you sideways. ‘I’m going to Tuscany with friends.’

You’re excited for him. ‘I’ve always wanted to go to Tuscany,’ you say. ‘You’ll have to show me pictures when you get back.’

Jimin smiles. ‘Of course. But at the rate you’re healing you might not even be on the ward when I get back.’

You hadn’t even considered this. 

‘I’ll be gone three weeks,’ Jimin says, gently. 

‘Well, send me a postcard,’ you say, laughingly. ‘You know where I live.’

‘Deal,’ Jimin says, offering his hand. You shake, as the lights rain down around you, burning bright in the dark.

***

You’re struggling at physical therapy today, more so than usual. Your breathing’s heavier, and it feels like you’re fighting through mud. 

Your physical therapist, Mara, finally stops you, just as you’re about to ask for a break.

‘Are you feeling ok?’ she asks, concerned. 

‘I’m fine,’ you grit out. ‘I can do more.’

‘I think we should stop.’

You just have enough consciousness left to hear her calling for help as your vision goes dark.

The padded mat is cool under your cheek.

You hear rapid footsteps, voices, and then, nothing at all.

***

You lose two and a half days before they allow you to wake. 

First and most pressing, the tube in your throat that it hurts to swallow around, pushing air into your lungs. Breathing for you. 

The line in your neck, the stitches holding it in that itch, madly. 

You would scratch it but your hand’s tethered with the weight of a probe on your finger, another line in the back of it. 

The tube in your nose, hooked up to a pump. 

The catheter between your legs, attached to a bag hooked carelessly on the side of the bed. 

You’re in intensive care. 

When your breathing tube comes out, a cough and a splutter, you ask what happened. 

It turns out you had a wound infection that made you septic. You’d collapsed after a physical therapy session. 

If you hadn’t already lost half your life to the skiing accident, you’d mourn the loss of the last few days. As it is, all you can do is what you’ve been doing. 

Try to move on. 

Your muscles, painstakingly built up through months of physical therapy, have weakened even though you’ve only been asleep for two days and change. 

Breathing becomes an exercise in endurance that you’ll never take for granted again. 

The lines come out, one by one, and then, at the end of your first week, you’re finally line free, untethered again. 

Just your battered body for company. 

Sohee, the older nurse with gentle hands, coaxes you through your bad days. 

You think of Jimin, more than once, sunstreaked and golden in the fields of Tuscany. 

You hope that wherever he is, he’s having the time of his life. 

Your family, initially terrified by your deterioration, are now talking about where you’ll live when you get discharged. 

Trying to help you get over the setback from your sepsis. 

You’re trying not to let your discomfort show on your face as Matsu tries for the third time to draw blood from your abused veins. 

He buries the needle, deep, and you bite your lip at the throbbing that results. 

The door opens, and you look up, grateful for the distraction. 

It’s Jimin. 

He’s tanned, and glowing with good health, and he stands out like an angel in these four walls that have been your home for months.  

‘Jimin!’ you say, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. 

‘Y/N,’ he says, with such warmth there’s a glow in your chest. 

You flinch as Matsu moves the needle in your arm, and Jimin’s face darkens. 

‘Hey, Matsu, I can take over.’ 

The tone of his voice brooks no argument. 

Matsu nods, and Jimin takes his tray from his as he leaves. 

‘I had a little jaunt to the ICU whilst you were gone,’ you say, lightly. ‘It’s not as nice as Tuscany, but it was a change of scenery at least.’ 

Jimin smiles. ‘I heard. I’m glad to see you’re still in one piece.’ 

His hand is warm on your arm as he prepares to draw blood. 

‘They did a number on my veins,’ you say. 

Jimin hums. ‘I know,’ he tells you. He’s gentle, thumb pressing on your skin as he searches for a vein. 

‘There goes my life of being a junkie,’ you say dramatically. ‘I wouldn’t be able to find a place to shoot up.’ 

Jimin says. ‘Tuscany was lovely. You should go someday.’ 

‘Yeah?’ you ask, interested. ‘Tell me more. Where did you stay? What did you do?’ 

You feel the prick as Jimin draws blood, and he says, quietly. ‘I’m in, you can relax, ok? I’ll be done in a minute.’ 

You close your eyes as Jimin tells you about the vineyard where he and his friends stayed. His voice is low, melodic, and he distracts you so well you barely realise when he’s done. 

He places a plaster on your hand, thumb smoothing the edges. 

His touch calms you in a way you haven’t felt in weeks. 

You turn to him. ‘Thanks Jimin.’ 

‘I’ve been doing this for years,’ he says. 

‘Not just for this,’ you say, gesturing to the plaster. ‘Thanks for the company.’ 

‘Apparently you like it so much you got septic so you’d still be here when I got back,’ Jimin says, grinning at you, easy. 

You laugh. ‘One day, when I get out of here, I’m going to make you breakfast, and the best coffee you’ve ever had.’ 

Jimin snorts. ‘Can you even cook?’ 

‘I don’t know,’ you admit. 

You both laugh. 

‘Well, I look forward to it anyway,’ Jimin says. He gets up, holding up the vial he’s just drawn from you. ‘I should get this labelled up and sent off.’ 

You’re still smiling long after he’s left the room. 

***

It’s Christmas day. 

Your family are visiting, they’ve even brought in turkey, your favourite roast potatoes which you used to love, and you haven’t had such a good day in a long time. 

You’re still in your Christmas pyjamas, looking out the window after they left, when there’s a knock on your door. 

Jimin steps in, slightly bemused at the collection of food and presents you’ve been bequeathed. 

‘I know you don’t know who you were before, but you’re very loved,’ he observes. 

You’re oddly touched. 

‘They left me a tonne of food, have you eaten?’ you ask. 

Jimin smiles. ‘I’ve been eating all day, all the staff working today have brought in things for Christmas lunch.’ 

He pauses. ‘And dinner.’ 

He laughs. ‘We’re all set until the end of the year, I think.’ 

‘Dessert?’ you offer. ‘It’s my mum’s sticky toffee pudding, I won’t be able to finish it.’ 

Jimin considers the container you show him. ‘I can heat it up and we can share it?’ 

‘Deal.’ 

Jimin disappears with your container and comes back with two bowls and two spoons. 

You eye the tiny gummy snowman candy he’s placed on top of your helping. 

Jimin sees your expression, laughs. ‘They’re good. Sohee gave me a whole bag of them.’ 

He perches next to your window, and you eat in silence. 

‘There’s a big tree in the main hospital, do you want to go and visit it after this?’ Jimin asks. 

You nod. ‘Also, I got you a present.’ 

You rummage in your pile of presents for the gold box your sister helped you get. 

Jimin accepts, looking shyly at you. ‘You shouldn’t have got me anything,’ he says. 

‘Don’t worry, I don’t expect special treatment,’ you tease. ‘I know you save the best treats for Mrs Kim in room 12 anyway.’ 

Jimin laughs. ‘May I?’ 

He unwraps the box, and a moment later is staring at the gold Christmas bauble ensconced in delicate tissue paper.

He runs his thumb over the design etched in the glass. ‘The tree of love,’ he says. 

You smile. ‘When you came back after your holiday, you looked so happy and recharged, and I thought this would remind you of it.’ 

Jimin smiles back at you so bright and pretty he’s blinding. ‘It’s beautiful. Thank you.’ 

He puts it carefully back in the box. ‘The tree I was going to show you isn’t as beautiful as this, but shall we go now, anyway?’ 

‘Sure.’

You grab your crutches. 

‘I can get a wheelchair if you want –’ Jimin offers. 

‘It’s my Christmas present to myself,’ you tell him. ‘I’m not going to use a wheelchair again.’ 

Jimin looks at you for a long moment. 

When he opens his mouth, his words aren’t what you expected. 

‘I guess I could carry you, if the worst happened,’ he says lightly.

You roll your eyes. ‘Lead the way, Park, I’m fine on my crutches.’ 

Two lifts and a walk across the link corridor later, you find yourself standing in front of the giant Douglas fir in the front foyer of the hospital. 

It’s huge, at least 20 feet tall, and covered in blues and silvers. 

You sigh. ‘It smells so good.’ 

You catch Jimin looking at you. 

‘It reminded me of you when I saw it,’ he says. 

‘Does it also have a bad leg?’ you ask, teasing. 

‘I used to go hiking with my family, every weekend,’ Jimin tells you. He’s looking up, away from you, at the star on the top of the tree. ‘This tree reminds me of that.’ 

He turns to you. ‘My dad used to do a bit of woodworking, and his favourite type of wood was Douglas fir. You can paint it easily so it can be any colour you want, and at its core it’s light and strong. Look after it, and it lasts a lifetime.’ 

You’re trying to think about how this relates to you when Jimin says, ‘You’re rebuilding your life, painting yourself different, but you’re the same person at your core. You’re one of the strongest people I know.’ 

You don’t realise you’re crying until he reaches out, gently, to wipe your cheek. 

‘Do you believe in fate?’ Jimin asks. 

‘I don’t know what I believe in now,’ you say, honestly. 

‘I never did,’ Jimin says. ‘I wanted to leave nursing for a long time. I actually put in my notice last year.’ 

You’re surprised to hear it. From what you’ve seen, Jimin loves his job. He’s damned good at it. 

‘I was on one of my last shifts when you were brought in,’ Jimin says. He’s looking at you now, an expression on his face that makes your heart skip several beats. 

‘Seeing you pick up the pieces after you had something so devastating happen to you —-’ he breaks off, throat working as he swallows. 

‘It made me realise how much I love my job,’ he says. ‘I think I was meant to do this. I’m good at it.’ 

‘You’re great at it,’ you say, earnest. 

Jimin reaches out and puts his hand over where yours is braced over your crutch. 

‘Here’s to next Christmas, when all this is behind you,’ he says. 

You don’t know what to say, so you grasp his hand. ‘Merry Christmas, Jimin.’ 

‘Merry Christmas, Y/N.’ 

You stand there, hand in hand, admiring the sparkly tree, enjoying the relative lull in activity in the normally crowded hospital foyer this Christmas night, until your legs start to give out, and then Jimin walks you back to your room. 

***

You’re in your room, just back from physical therapy, when Sohee walks in. ‘We need your help,’ she says, brisk. 

You look up, curious. 

‘It’s Jimin’s birthday, and the tradition here is that if you work here and it’s your birthday, you get slimed.’ 

You’re incredulous. You can’t imagine anyone would ever dare to slime Sohee, with her perfectly starched uniforms and her stern demeanor. 

‘Park manages to evade us every year, but this year, he has a weakness,’ Sohee continues. 

She looks right at you. ‘You.’ 

You splutter. ‘Me? How am I Jimin’s weakness?’ 

‘He likes you,’ Sohee says, matter of fact. ‘He’d never act on it, not whilst you’re in his care, but he likes you, and this year, Park Jimin’s going to get what’s coming to him.’ 

‘What’s in it for me?’ you ask, nonchalant. 

‘I’ll get the catering staff to give you an extra helping on Sunday roast day,’ says Sohee, like she’d been expecting you to ask exactly that.

‘I don’t want to hurt Jimin,’ you say. 

Sohee rolls her eyes. ‘No one wants to hurt Jimin. But he’s the quickest out of all of us, and he’s slimed us all over the years, and no one can catch him.’ 

‘Come on,’ Sohee wheedles. ‘You’ll be discharged next week anyway.’ 

You sigh. ‘What do I have to do?’ 

***

You shift nervously in your chair as you wait for Jimin to respond to the call bell Sohee activated before she left. 

He knocks on your door and enters, a smile already on his face. ‘Are you ok, Y/N?’ 

‘I’m sorry,’ you start. 

Jimin’s two steps away when the door bursts open, and Sohee, Matsu and the other nurse, Alice, rush in. 

Jimin looks at them, then you, and steps in front of you quickly. ‘Ok, ok, you can slime me,’ he says, hands out. ‘Just don’t get anything on Y/N.’ 

Jimin stands perfectly still as Sohee and Matsu unceremoniously dump buckets of green and purple slime over his head. 

You don’t miss how the slime makes his scrubs top mould to his torso. 

Jimin turns, slips, and you reach out to stop him from falling. 

You lose your balance and Jimin, trying to stop you from falling, slides to put his body under yours as you end up in a heap on the floor. 

Jimin’s looking at you, concern in his eyes. ‘Are you ok?’ 

He looks so ridiculous, covered in green and purple slime, that you can’t help but laugh. 

A moment later, he’s laughing too. 

‘I’m sorry,’ you tell him. 

He’s still smiling. ‘I can’t believe you helped them,’ he complains. He shifts a little, and suddenly you’re very aware of the hardness of his torso under you, how his thighs strain against his scrubs bottoms. 

‘I’ll leave you kids to clean up,’ Sohee says, not unkindly, ushering Matsu and Alice out of your room. ‘Happy birthday Jiminie!’ 

Jimin helps you get up. ‘Be careful, it’s slippery,’ he says, holding your arm. 

You’ve never been this close to him before. 

He wipes his hand on his thigh, then brushes a streak of slime off your cheek. ‘I’ll get cleaned up, then I’ll come back and clean the room, ok? Can you get cleaned up on your own?’ 

You nod. His hand is still against your cheek. 

You’re thinking about what Sohee said about Jimin liking you. Is she right? 

Jimin pulls his hand away, and you mourn the loss of his warmth. 

‘See you in a bit,’ he tells you. 

***

You take one last look back at the room you’ve spent the last few months in whilst you’ve been recovering from your injury. 

You came in, in pieces, and now you’re walking out, changed in ways you can’t even fathom. 

Your dad and mum are in the car with your things, you’ll be staying with them for a while until you learn to live independently again. 

You’ve said your thank you’s and goodbyes. To Sohee, who made good on her promise to get the catering staff to give you extra roast potatoes on Sunday. To Matsu, who you’ve seen grow in compassion since the initial days when he wouldn’t give you pain meds. To Mrs Kim who was constantly saying how much you reminded her of her daughter. 

To Jimin, who dropped by after his shift yesterday and gave you his number. He’d told you to call him and it’d seemed like he meant it. 

You close the door behind you and see Jimin, rushing down the corridor. 

‘I was worried I’d missed you,’ he says. 

‘You’re not even at work today,’ you remind him. 

‘I live close. Besides, I couldn’t not say goodbye on your last day.’ 

Jimin smiles. ‘Ready to face the big bad world again?’ 

You smile back. ‘All my monsters are in there,’ you say, gesturing to the empty room behind you. 

‘We should meet up,’ Jimin says. ‘You owe me a breakfast and the best coffee I’ve ever had.’ 

‘We can meet up,’ you say. ‘Anywhere but here.’ 

You reach out, and enclose him in a hug. 

‘I’ll see you soon, ok?’ 

He holds you a moment longer, then lets go. 

‘Yeah.’ 

You walk down to the ward doors, press the button to let yourself out. 

You give Jimin one last wave, and then, you’re out. 

***

You’re watching TV with your parents after dinner, when the news comes on. 

‘Hey, that’s your hospital,’ you dad says. 

You watch, interest piqued as the newscaster reports on upcoming nursing strikes. 

‘They should strike,’ you say. ‘They’re underpaid and underappreciated.’ 

Later, in your room, you’re looking at the number Jimin saved on your phone. 

It’s been two weeks since you left the hospital, and you’ve not got in touch with him. 

It’s not that you don’t want to talk to him, but you’re worried about what things will be like, now that you’re out of the hospital. 

You think of the news report you saw, and you make a decision. 

***

It’s the first time you’ve really been out since you left the hospital. You’ve been with your mum to the store, round the corner to the park, but you haven’t made any longer trips than that. 

Your leg’s completely healed, you don’t even need crutches anymore, but some days there’s still an ache deep in your bones. 

You get headaches but they’re nowhere near as bad as they were. 

You hear the chanting, the sound of a hundred conversations, as you walk over to where there’s a crowd gathered, picketing in support of the nursing strike. 

Every face is unfamiliar, and you’re starting to wonder if it was wise to come and support the strikes when you see him. 

He’s dressed casually like the other times you’ve seen him in off-duty clothes, his hair styled back, holding a placard that says, ‘Safe staffing saves lives’. 

Like he senses your eyes on him, he turns, and your eyes meet. 

In an instant, he’s making his way through the crowd, to you. 

He stops a step in front of you. 

‘Is it really you?’ he asks. 

You smile.

Jimin wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer as a group of people push past. 

‘What are you doing here?’ he scolds. ‘You shouldn’t be in a crowd like this —’ 

You put your hand against his cheek, and he stills. 

He moves his head, closer, so close your lips touch. 

You’ve wanted this for so long, and this new version of you takes what she wants. 

You kiss. 

Jimin makes a soft noise, deep in his throat, and his hand comes up to cup the back of your head as your lips meet again. 

By the time you come up for air, you feel flushed, giddy, your heart pounding a million miles a minute in your chest. 

Jimin presses another soft kiss on your cheek before he pulls away. 

‘I’m so glad you came,’ he says. 

***

Jimin’s shucking his shirt over his head in the quiet of his bedroom, only the moonlight to show you the beauty of his form. 

He gathers you back into his arms like he couldn’t stand even that short time apart without touching you. You don’t think he’s stopped touching you at all since you met him at the picket line. 

You’re not complaining. 

Jimin pulls you closer so your lips meet again. His lips are soft, full, pressing against yours firmly. 

He doesn’t shy away, so you don’t either. 

He tugs your top over your head, litters your breasts with kisses, tugs the cups of your bra down so he can get better access. 

He laves your nipples with his tongue, like he enjoys the sounds you make as he sucks on your flesh. 

You can feel his hardness against your centre as he strokes his tongue and hands over your skin. 

You reach down to touch him, and Jimin grunts as you curl your fingers around his cock.

‘We don’t have to—’ 

‘I want it,’ you tell him, lips against his skin, hand on his ass. 

‘I want to give it to you,’ Jimin groans. ‘Fuck, are you sure?’ 

You’ve never been surer of anything in your life. 

Jimin rolls a condom onto himself, hissing a little. He positions himself above you, and you move to make room for him between your thighs. 

He nudges in a little, gentle as he’s always been with you, and the stretch is so good you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips. 

Jimin presses his face to yours. ‘Tell me to stop if —’

‘Don’t stop,’ you say. ‘Don’t you dare stop.’ 

Jimin seals his lips to yours as he drives the rest of himself into you. He stops when he’s all the way in, stills. 

He lifts his head to look at your face. ‘Are you – is this ok?’ 

You smile, breathlessly. ‘Can’t you tell, Jimin?’ 

Jimin groans as you clench around him. 

‘You’re so wet. Fuck —’ 

He moves, and your eyes close with the pleasure of it. 

‘Fuck, Jimin —’ 

He moves again, and you cry out as he rocks his hips against yours. 

It’s overwhelming, the weight of him against you, the way his skin gleams with sweat in the moonlight, the soft whines he makes on every thrust. The feel of him inside you. 

It’s his voice that eventually tips you over the edge. ‘You’re so pretty,’ he vows against your ear. ‘I can’t believe you’re here —’ 

You cry his name as you come, and he keeps going, seeking his own release now, gentle even when he’s taut with need. 

He kisses you again, grinds hard, deep, and then he’s holding you like he doesn’t want to ever let you go. 

***

You can hear Jimin moving in his bedroom, and sure enough, he emerges, shirtless, hair mussed from your fingers through it. 

You admire the beautiful lines of his cut torso as he walks towards you. 

‘Who knew you were packing all this under those blue scrubs?’ you ask, teasing. 

Jimin smiles, pulls you into a hug. ‘What are you doing in my kitchen?’ 

‘Making you breakfast,’ you tell him. ‘A promise is a promise.’ 

Jimin leans down to kiss your neck, and you shiver at the touch of his lips. 

‘Later,’ he tells you. ‘I’ll make us breakfast later. Come back to bed.’ 

He grasps your hand, and you follow him back to his bedroom. 

You have no idea where this is going, but you figure this is a hell of a good start to the rest of your life. 

©hamsterclaw 2023

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you open your new closet to see numerous short skirts/dresses/booty shorts/sheer tights/thigh highs and ask yan chrollo if he has a thing for thighs or something. he has the audacity to look you in the eye and claim he "hasn't the slightest clue what gave you that impression."

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