#.............DID I EVER MENTION I WANT HER TO KISS ME. I WANT HER TO KISS ME💖💟🌹❣👭⚘💐💙💘💟❣💌💝🌷💋🌹🌼💜💛💜❣💐💙💜⚘🌼💛👭⚘💜💐💙💚❣💚

[kingkaisen]

Prompt idea: Royal knight Kento or Suguru that falls for the princess they’re protecting

VULCANIA — Kento N.

♛ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: the king has given kento nanami one very important task and no say in the matter: protect you, the beloved princess, with his life. however, the knight can’t help but wonder . . . if you ever found yourself in danger, could he protect you? Would he protect you?

♛ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: spicy kissing scene but overall sfw, feral nanami, angst, fluff, major violence, mentions of war, minor character deaths, slight enemies to lovers, brief mention of arranged marriages, geto, gojo, & sukuna make an appearance. this takes place in a mythical world! oh, and animals adore you.

♛ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 10k (sorry, I was having a blast)

♛ — 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: dividers by @uzmacchiato!

Kento Nanami wanted to hate you.

Truly, he did. He tried.

After all, his bloodline’s only purpose was to shed blood; to die in service of whomever sat on the throne, as well as their spoiled spouse and privileged offspring. 

An unstable, overemotional king would often start a war over a bruised ego and an insatiable thirst for power. And every time — every single time — a king declared war on another nation, be it near or far, members of Kento’s family would die a pointless death on a battlefield.

More land and subjects for the king. Another funeral to attend for Kento.

The Nanamis were widely known as one of the most loyal families within the kingdom of Umarith, born and bred to serve the royals through knighthood.

Therefore, he was prepared for the day he kneeled before the king and received the title of a knight, as he had practically learned how to hold a tiny wooden sword and swing it before he learned his ABCs.

However, what he wasn’t prepared for, was to be less of a new knight — an honorable warrior who maintained order within the villages while protecting the weak until called into battle — and more of a personal bodyguard, one who would be responsible for protecting you, the princess.

“Your Majesty,” Kento Nanami glanced up from the polished ground he kneeled on, locking eyes with the king himself. “With all due respect, protecting the princess sounds like a task that should belong to a knight of a higher ranking than myself. I’m just a newbie.”

“You officially became a knight only a month ago, yes, however, your ancestors served the throne as knights! Your descendants will too! I cannot think of a knight more worthy of protecting my beloved daughter than a Nanami.” The erratic king paused, stepped away from the kneeling warrior, and headed for his gold-lined throne. A sigh escaped his lips as he sat down. “Your father was the first knight to throw himself in front of me when an enemy drew his sword during the Cursed War. I trust that, should the princess ever find herself in danger, you will do the same for her. That is how you were raised! Raised!”

Kento lowered his head. If it wouldn’t send him straight to the dungeons, he would have slammed his gauntlet-covered fist against the king’s jaw.

His father’s death was pointless. Unnecessary. He took a sword to the heart to protect a man who wanted wealth. And here Kento was, kneeling to said man. Kneeling to the man who expected him to do the same thing. Expected. It was expected.

But if the palace was overrun by murderous thieves, or the kingdom found itself in war yet again, or a massive fire-breathing dragon released scorching flames throughout the palace, would Kento save you?

The daughter of the man who was responsible for his father’s demise?

And his uncle’s?

And his suffering mother’s misery?

He didn’t know if he could truly be so selfless. 

Even with a cloud of angered confusion hanging above his head and the burden of being responsible for a royal’s life resting upon his shoulders, he simply stared down at the marble floor, parted his lips, and mumbled, ��understood, Your Majesty. I will protect her with my life.”

— ♛ —

The stranger he promised to protect with his life was waiting for him at the other end of the palace.

What an exhausting walk. Kento grew to despise you more and more with every step he took. The servants that lingered behind him had undoubtedly climbed the never-ending grand staircases multiple times a day, but even their faces had grown red, their chests heaving as they waited on you hand and foot.

The endless torment that was knight training — was this all it would amount to? Had he unknowingly been preparing to just climb stairs, nothing more? At least he wasn’t sweating or breathless like the servants who darted back and forth around the castle.

No, that wasn’t quite right.

He was sweating a bit. He could feel the warm droplets accumulating on his forehead, making his loose blonde strands stick to his skin, but it wasn’t from exhaustion.

He was nervous.

When Kento was four and the royals celebrated your birth — which would become an official holiday honored with festivities and balls — it began then. The kingdom-wide worship.

His own mother would tuck him into the straw-filled bed he shared with his siblings.

“Goodnight, my loves,” she’d whisper, kissing their foreheads. “May the Vulcania Princess bring us warmth and bless us all.”

While your father ruled Umarith officially, it was you who mattered most. The Vulcania Princess. The precious gem of the kingdom. Everyone, from the privileged to the peasants, praised your nickname during their prayers before mealtime or before their slumber.

Those with the right amount of gold and the right amount of time traveled for days to fall to their knees before you, begging for you to bless their children or their crops. 

As Kento aged, the curriculum surrounding his education primarily focused on knighthood and the royals. He sat criss-crossed on the floor of his raggedy one-room school that smelt of old wood, and listened to his elderly teacher ramble on, on, and on about you, you, you, her eyes glistening with admiration behind her round glasses. 

The people of Umarith originally attached the name Vulcania to your princess title following your birth, as during that cherished year, the brutalizing cold seasons came to an end, and the warm seasons were the hottest they had ever been in centuries. Sleeping volcanoes were once again active. Creatures of all kinds who sought warmth — even those thought to be extinct due to the prolonged cold weather — would sneak their way into your palace. Flowers bloomed. The hungry were able to grow food once again. The sun shone brighter than ever. 

Before your mother, the queen, passed away, she claimed that your skin was always warm to the touch, as if your soul was aflame. 

Therefore, the people wanted to give you a title that represented a connection to fire, warmth, and passion. 

Kento tried to recall any and all facts he was forcibly taught about you as he approached the double doors of your bedchamber. He had only come to know your appearance through the statues and famous paintings spread throughout the villages, but never before had he sat his eyes on you.

Well, that was all about to change.

Kento raised his fist. As his knuckles tapped three times against the door, he thought about The Statue of the Vulcania Princess — an enormous, intimidating sculpture in the center of his village that touched the sky. 

All at once, as Kento thought about the endless worship be it from humans or animals that followed you everywhere — and as a red-haired servant opened the door and let him inside — it hit Kento that he wasn’t protecting a mere princess.

He was protecting a goddess.

Shit.

The Goddess of Fire was sitting on a lavish sofa in front of a fireplace, that much he could tell from where he stood. It was rather difficult to make out your mysterious features, your extensive bedroom was dark aside from the flickering flames illuminating your face just a bit, and you hadn’t yet turned your head to look at whomever was entering your bedchamber, but even so, Kento ignored the thumping of his heart, cleared his throat, and bowed.

“Your Royal Highness, I-”

“Stop bowing.” 

Kento raised his head slowly. He was careful not to let his face reflect his confusion, offering a blank expression instead.

“We are going to be spending plenty of time together whether we like it or not, so we can do without the formalities. It tends to get annoying.” You paused, as if waiting for him to speak, but it was as if Kento’s mind decided to forgo any prior knowledge of how to formulate words. 

He turned his head to face one of the servants standing against the wall, as if seeking confirmation from the quiet, redheaded young girl that you had, in fact, told him to stop bowing.

“You are my personal knight, yes?” 

“That’s correct, ma’am.”

“You’re not very good at following directions, are you?”

“Forgive me. This is the first time I’ve ever been told to act informal with a royal.”

You sighed, leaning back on your sofa, which put more distance between yourself and the flames of your fireplace — It was quite identical to how your father would sigh and lean back in his throne. As if doing nothing and being a pampered royal was oh so hard. Like father, like daughter — and your new position rid Kento of the small details of your features he could see. Now, you were nothing more than a dark figure. 

Just why was your bedroom so dark?

“Come here.”

Metal clanked against metal, filling the silence, as Kento made his way around your sofa and in front of your line of sight, blocking part of your fireplace. The flames that were able to dance around him illuminated him well, and your eyes darted across every feature of the knight standing before you.

“Blonde hair, brown eyes, well-built . . . you’re a Nanami, aren’t you?”

Kento met your question with silence. 

Truth be told, he hadn’t heard your question, because from this short distance, he finally got a somewhat decent look at your face; your mesmerizing, undeniably gorgeous face. 

It all made sense now, why the Vulcania Princess was the one everyone, rich and poor, fell to their knees and prayed to during both their darkest hours and happier times. Why the Vulcania Princess was the one who could end devastating, catastrophic world wars with a couple of mere words. Why the Vulcania Princess had princes and kings from kingdoms near and far eager to start said devastating, catastrophic world wars to wipe out their enemies just for the mere chance of dancing with you at a ball. 

Never before had he seen someone so devastatingly beautiful.

The paintings and statues he had seen of you throughout his entire life failed to capture the glistening stars within your bright eyes, or the smooth, though plump appearance of your skin. Your soft, tempting lips were as enchanting as a love spell all on their own.

“Tell me the truth. Do you hate me?”

Your soft voice snapped Kento out of his daze-like state. His eyes widened for a moment before he regained his composure.

“No. I don’t hate you.”

“You do. I can see it in your eyes. I’d love to know why.” You tilted your head a bit. “Were you hoping for a different career path within knighthood? One more exciting than being a guard dog to a princess? Did you want to be on the front lines during a war, perhaps?”

Kento gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching a bit. Despite the way his body showcased his true feelings, his words tried to convey the opposite. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong first impression, but I-”

“What’s your name? Your first name?”

“Kento.” 

“Kento.” You gave him a gentle smile. It ignited a new flame of infuriation within him. “Be honest with me, Kento. No formalities, no lies. Why do you hate me? Tell me the truth.”

Kento frowned with uncertainty. Answering your question honestly went against every bit of his training, every lesson forced into his body and mind, but could he truly pass up the chance to say his peace? Could he?

“How do I know the truth won’t get me hung?” He asked.

“Rest assured knowing my father chose decapitation as a form of execution.” Your words were met with silence. This, in turn, led you to speak again. “See? You didn’t laugh at my awful joke. People who admire me would have faked a little chuckle, at the very least. So, why do you hate me?”

Kento shifted his feet. “Why do you want to know so badly?”

“I think my curiosity is only natural. I’m sure if someone hated you, you would like to know why.”

“Not if it was a complete stranger.”

“What if it were a stranger who was responsible for your safety? A stranger who was supposed to die for you without hesitation?” You crossed one leg over the other, the silk gown covering your body shifting slightly. “Do you see why I’m desperate to know?”

“That’s why.”

“Hm?”

“That’s why I . . . dislike you. I’m supposed to die for you. Becoming a knight is the fate of all Nanami whether we like it or not. My father was a knight. His father was a knight. My cousins are knights. I am a knight. If I have a son, he’ll become a knight, and he’ll have to watch as I kill and die protecting you royals, because it’s the only way to put food on the table. My father died protecting yours, and I’m sure I’ll die protecting you. I could refuse. I could pick a different career path, but then my mother and my siblings would starve, all because I’d be a disgrace, blacklisted out of every other potential career. Nanamis are expected to become knights, or to rot and die.” Kento glanced down at his heavy hand, covered with armor. “And the pay is quite low.”

“I see.” 

When Kento glanced up at you yet again, he could see the gears in your head turning, your mind taking in every word. But, even so, all you managed to say were those two, simple, meaningless words.

That was the first and last time you and Kento spoke to one another that day.

— ♛ —

TWO WEEKS LATER

One would think that protecting a dear princess who often did nothing more than sit by a fireplace would be an easy task.

One would think.

Over fourteen days in counting had passed since this aggravating honor was bestowed upon him, and one thing he learned was that your presence was indeed enchanting, and all living creatures wanted to enjoy your warmth. More often than not, the knight was pushing starstruck — or, rather, godstruck — subjects away from you that managed to break free from knight-patrolled crowds whenever you left your palace. 

Animals, however, were okay. 

And he learned that the hard way.

“A heads up next time would be nice,” Kento once said, rather breathless, releasing the handle of his sword and letting it fall back into its scabbard. His heart rate hadn’t yet returned to normal.

There you were, sitting on the floor of your private library, stroking the mane of an enormous lion that rested its head in your lap.

As massive as it was, as dangerous as it was, the lion rubbed its head against your gown as if it were pouting. Both it, and you, rolled your eyes at Kento.

“Surely you were told that animals sometimes inhabit the palace to seek out my warmth.”

“I was, but . . .” he paused, blinking in bewilderment. “A lion?”

Your lips pointed downward into a small pout as you stroked the creature, as if to comfort it and say: “It’s okay, I’ll protect you from the big bad knight, it’s okay.”

“This isn’t just any lion. This is my lion. He wandered far from his home when he was only a cub. The poor thing was cold and was hiding in my garden. I found him, raised him, and he comes and goes whenever he pleases. You should apologize to him.”

“Apologize? To a lion?”

“Yes,” your frown deepened, and your eyes found Kento’s. “Can’t you see you hurt his feelings? You pulled your sword out on him.”

“I was trying to do my job and protect you. I didn’t know it-” 

“He.”

Kento released a heavy sigh. Just what sort of nonsense had he gotten himself into? “I didn’t know he was a pet. Are there any other animals I should be aware of? I should consider making a list.”

You scoffed, knowing quite well he was hinting at the sudden appearance of bunnies sitting on his chest when he awakened one morning, just last week.

Three days ago, butterflies were swirling around your head. Four? Three birds — two small, one big — fluttered around you, landing on your hands and shoulders as they pleased.

“May I ask what a lion is doing in the library specifically?” Kento questioned.

Folding your arms across your chest, staring at him as if the answer was rather obvious, you said, “I was reading to him, clearly. Animals enjoy tales just as much as humans and faes.”

Just then, Kento’s eyes flickered over to the open book resting on the floor beside your thigh. He shook his head in disbelief. 

“Right, of course, well,” he awkwardly scratched the side of his head, fingers messing up his blonde strands. “I’m sorry to you, and to the lion.”

Your hand raised; you were motioning him over.

He was hesitant, but Kento kneeled. He couldn’t help but widen his eyes in surprise when you removed one of his armored gloves and grabbed ahold of his hand with your own.

His cheeks burned. Your eyes; they darted up briefly at his reddening cheeks, but you didn’t make a verbal comment. He was rather grateful.

His apparent blushing wasn’t due to the sudden skin-to-skin contact — at least, that’s what he convinced himself — but rather, he viewed you as fragile. Soft. Like the glass of a valuable mirror. And his hands? Well, swinging swords and perfecting the art of combat during years of knight training had left him with scars and calloused fingertips. He viewed himself as rough. Hard. Like sandpaper scratching against uneven metal. 

Your soft hand warmed his rough one as you guided it towards the lion’s mane. Gently, you rested his hand against its thick hair and released it, and Kento found himself missing your warmth.

How odd.

“Apologize properly,” you demanded. You nodded your head down to his hand. Spending all of his time with you had gifted him with the ability to understand your every intention, and with a sigh, Kento stroked the lion’s mane.

“I’m sorry.”

“Reo.”

He looked at you. There was no hint of amusement in your eyes. You were quite serious.

He returned his gaze to the big, pouting lion, and said, “I’m sorry, Reo.”

And with that, Kento left the library — only to stand outside the doors as a guard, of course. As he shut the heavy library doors behind him, he heard you mumble to the lion, “Try to forgive him, Reo. He means well.”

The creature groaned in response.

Kento ran his bare hand across his face. “Did that really just happen?” He thought.

But, a more pressing thought — one more shocking than apologizing to and petting a lion — presented itself within his mind like an intruder. 

“I miss her warmth already.”

— ♛ —

TWO MONTHS LATER

“Greetings to all! Welcome to the Vulcania Princess’s Birthday Ball!” 

Esteemed guests dressed in stunning ballgowns and extravagant tuxedos let their applause fill the enormous ballroom. Oh, was it enormous, with golden and white accents decorating the walls and pillars, and marvelous chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. On the other side of the ballroom, there was an entire orchestra performing on a balcony, only stopping their classical music to hear the king speak.

The king stood beside your throne as he prattled on with greetings and thanks. Kento himself was like a guard dog, standing a little ways behind your throne, eyeing the crowd.

He toned out most of the king’s speech. Most of his guests did as well, but their eyes glowed with admiration — not for him, but for you. After all, it was you, and this evening, you were wearing a puffy, lilac ballgown adorned with flowers, and a bright tiara sat perfectly on your head — every strand of your hair was styled to your liking.

At some point, the king finally stopped talking, and guests continued to mingle and dance. Kento stood back and watched as three well-dressed men approached your throne. Their attire was more sophisticated than that of a standard — albeit wealthy in name or fortune — guest, and Kento gathered that they were princes from other kingdoms.

“Kneel before my daughter!” The king shouted.

It wasn’t customary for princes to kneel to someone of an equal rank, but the three men took a knee in front of your throne with no hesitation.

The king, now satisfied, looked down at you.

“I’ll leave you to it, my dear,” he said before walking off, eager to partake in the refreshments.

“Your Royal Highness,” a man with long, black hair began to speak. “I am Prince Suguru of Ravane, your closest partner in trade. We met briefly during the Fae’s Flower Festival last year. Please, allow me the honor of gifting you three necklaces made with the rarest and finest gemstones that can only be harvested by faes alone, all in exchange for your first dance this evening.”

“Pardon the interruption Your Royal Highness, but,” the man beside him, one with white hair and a boyish grin, suddenly interrupted. “As someone wise enough not to gift you something you own a thousand of, I think I should be the one to have your first dance. And you’re probably wondering why, right? Well . . .”

The man rose to his feet, wrapping his fingers around the handle on top of a tiny crate he had sat beside him. He started to approach the throne. As his feet moved, so did Kento’s. Though he was careful not to interrupt, he was close enough to your throne to make his presence known; a silent warning to the white-haired man: don’t try anything foolish.

The man opened the tiny crate. Suddenly, a small, red creature unsteadily flew out of the open door.

You held out your hands, and it landed there, as if it knew — it knew — that was where it belonged.

“A baby dragon! Oh my goodness,” you grinned down at the animal.

“Prince Satoru of Soulan, my love,” the man winked.

“Home of the dragons. Of course.” The incredibly tiny dragon spun around in two circles before settling down, resting its head on your palm. “And what kind have you gifted to me?”

“Well, in my kingdom, rumor has it that you spend most of your free time sitting in front of your fireplace. I figured there must be some truth to it, considering you’re called the Vulcania Princess and the Goddess of Fire for a reason. Because of that, I think it’s only right for you to own a Flame Dragon. Whaddya think?”

“Damn, giving her the most common type of dragon in your kingdom, huh? Sounds to me like you don’t think she’s worth the effort.”

The interjection came from the third prince, a buff man with pink hair and an unfriendly gaze.

Satoru turned to face him, stepping away from your throne. “Oh my god, get lost, Sukuna. Didn’t your kingdom try to burn hers to the ground, what, two or three years ago? Why are you here to begin with?”

“Something about makin’ peace with your enemies,” the buff prince smirked.

“You’re both being awfully informal in front of the princess. Watch your mouths,” Suguru, now joining in, rose to his feet.

Satoru rolled his blue eyes, mumbling, “I heard that your little kingdom is surviving off of tomatoes or something. Is that why you . . .”

The three bickering princes continued on and on, but you paid them no mind, too preoccupied with the tiny creature in your hands.

Kento leaned down a little ways across your throne.

“Perhaps I should hold on to the dragon for you. It could be dangerous,” he said.

“No way! He’s already bonding with me. Look!” The dragon alternated between crawling on its four legs and fluttering its way up your arm with its tiny, dark red wings. “What should I name him? What should I feed him? I know nothing of raising a dragon. Do you?”

“Afraid not.” He watched the dragon make a bed out of your shoulder, resting against the crook of your neck. “They only taught us how to slay one.”

That statement made you glare up at Kento.

“I won’t hurt him, I promise,” he said defensively, yet gently. “Once he grows, I might be out of a job. He and that lion of yours could protect you better than I ever could.” 

“I have a feeling you could protect me very well, you just refuse to do so.”

Your words caught him by surprise. His disdain for his career was no foreign topic between the two of you, but even so, he hadn’t expected you to bring it up. Not right now. Not like this.

Especially considering that, well, he instinctively found himself doing just that in one way or another. Protecting you.

“I-”

“I understand, Kento. I don’t like the idea of anyone dying for me just as much as you don’t like the idea of dying for someone.” You paused, looking away from him and back at the three, arguing princes. “Let's go for a stroll. I have a feeling these men are about to start fighting one another. I’m not looking forward to picking one to dance with.”

— ♛ —

There was only one place you deemed perfect enough for a stroll: the vast gardens surrounding the palace. Hedge mazes, luscious trees, and colorful, blossoming flowers of all kinds were illuminated by the bright moonlight. Together, you and Kento walked in a comfortable silence.

A little while after passing one of the greenhouses, Kento spoke.

“When I was younger, learning about you royals was just as important as learning how to read or put on armor. I remember what they taught us about you.” “Oh?” You mumbled, though you didn’t give him a look of surprise. “What kind of things did they teach you? Can you recall any of it?”

“Well, for starters, they told us how much you adored spending time in the garden, especially during the warmer months.”

“I don’t see how that knowledge benefits any of you.”

“It doesn’t, but now, I enjoy figuring out what might have been true or false. Clearly, that part was true.” 

A soft smile as gentle as the moonlight appeared on your face.

“What else is there to know about you?” Kento asked. 

Internally, his curiosity puzzled him. Just why did he care? 

He couldn’t explain it, but his heart and soul felt like it was caught in a game of tug-of-war, and the rope was a very thin line between love and hate. Love.

No.

No . . . that couldn’t have been it.

Not for the woman who sat by her fireplace all day. Not for the woman who never had to work a day in her life. Not for the woman whose biggest obstacle in life was deciding which ballgown to wear or which animal to cuddle with.

Not for the woman who was the daughter of the asshole of a king who got his father killed.

Kento tried to grimace at the thought, but that thought brought him no trouble. 

Oh, how he wished it did.

A small, baby fox with large ears dashed out of the shrubbery surrounding the walking path, darting across his foot. 

“Hmm, well,” you paused in thought, paying no mind to the sandy-colored creature that decided to follow you, hopping along with every step you took. The sudden sound of your soft voice snapped Kento out of his pleasant — though he wished they were unpleasant — thoughts. “My tiara makes my head itch. I’ve been told that my taste in music is . . . unique. I secretly add extra spices to my food when the chef isn’t looking. I’m a very sensitive person, believe it or not. It took everything in me not to cry after finding out you, a complete stranger at the time, hated me. Lastly, I have saved and nurtured twenty-seven creatures, and that only includes the ones I claim as pets, not ones I’ve simply befriended on a journey.”

“Were any of them as humongous as that dragon will turn out to be?” Kento asked, pointing to the dragon fast asleep on your shoulder. 

“Can’t say. I’m struggling to wrap my mind around the fact that this tiny creature will grow into a gigantic, fire-breathing being. I’m excited.” You halted your footsteps. The small fox trailing you took the opportunity to climb up the back of your dress, claws digging into the puffy, lilac fabric that adorned your body until it sprawled across your other, free shoulder, but you didn’t seem to mind. It was a tad bit bigger than the dragon, and Kento figured that having two small animals resting on your shoulders couldn’t have been comfortable, but you simply smiled, and greeted the baby fox with, “Hello, sweetheart,” before turning your attention back to Kento. “Anyway, I’m sure my father will oppose the idea of me keeping a dragon. He thinks I’ll be responsible for my own demise.”

“We have our differences, but I might have to agree with the king on that one.”

“Be that as it may, I refuse to let him take little Blaze away from me.”

“Blaze?” Kento raised his eyebrows, stifling the urge to laugh. “I wanted something related to fire in any sort of way. Is it too uncreative? Silly? Should I keep brainstorming? I want to name him something he’ll like.” You gazed off at the stars above, biting your lip, puzzled.

After a moment, you glanced back at Kento, and a small pout grazed your moonlit face. “What? You’re being very unhelpful.”

“Blaze is a perfect-”

“You’re trying to flatter my dear dragon so he won’t set you ablaze when he’s older.” You smiled gently. Kento blinked. You then sighed and continued to stroll through the garden. “We talked about this, Kento. You’re supposed to laugh at my terrible jokes to boost my self-esteem.” 

“What?” Kento cleared his throat. “Sorry, I’m pretending that I couldn’t hear you.”

“Oh,” you shook your head. “Just you wait until I teach Blaze how to . . . bite your ankles.”

A genuine, heartfelt laugh escaped Kento. God, how long has it been since he managed to do something like that? It wasn’t anything drastic, nothing more than a somewhat small chuckle, but it occurred to him that, perhaps, he couldn’t remember the last time he was blessed with the chance to truly laugh.

His laugh made your smile brighten — not a gentle, polite smile that he had gotten used to seeing, but a real, full grin that made Kento wonder why the world’s most gifted artists never painted you with such a facial expression.

It was breathtaking.

The stroll resumed for another six minutes. During that time, you and Kento discussed everything from his mother’s favorite meals to make to the new hit play that premiered last week. However, the closer you both ventured towards the entrance to the ballroom, the more your precious smile started to fade.

Kento glanced down at your hands, which fiddled with the necklace around your neck.  

“What troubles you?” He asked.

“You’re wise, so I’m sure you’ve already put the pieces together, you’re great at that I’ve noticed, but . . . this evening, I am not just picking a dance partner, but someone to marry.” You spoke softly. Kento could tell from your tone that this was a bothersome topic for you. “I get to choose, but my choices are limited to those three men. I know how it feels to be born into a role you didn’t ask for. I understand what you’re going through, Kento.”

The knight stopped walking.

As soon as that last sentence slipped from between your glossy lips, Kento’s heart and soul once again felt like it was playing a game of tug-of-war. Love and Hate. And right now, as a wave of anger washed over him, the latter was winning.

“With all due respect,” Kento released a shaky breath. He wouldn’t lose his composure so easily, but he had to speak his mind. He had to. “You don’t know what it’s like. You live a pampered life. Your hands are free from scratches or burns or anything that signifies hard work, and you have never known hunger and loss like I have — hunger and loss that is a direct result of the actions you royals take. I’m sorry you have to pick between three rich, attractive princes who are ready to go to war for you and you find yourself incapable of doing anything more difficult than sitting on a sofa all day, but that in no way compares to . . .” 

He felt his composure slip. His tone was getting dark. Voice was getting harsh. Taking a deep breath, avoiding your gaze all the while, Kento parted his lips, preparing to let an apology slip from between them, then suddenly, you said, “You should take a break. Stay out here a little longer to get some fresh air by yourself. I’ll be fine.” You gave him a sad smile. Pulling the dragon, Blaze, off your shoulder, you held the sleepy creature against your chest, as if seeking its comfort. Though you tried to hide it, your smile couldn’t disguise the glistening hurt within your eyes. You were sensitive. That’s right.

“I should head back inside,” you mumbled. “Everyone will be looking for me.”

“Your Royal Highness, please forgive me. I’m sorry. Not having a say in who you want to spend the rest of your life with is terrible. I don’t know why I . . . please forgive me.” Kento called out, his words sincere, face twisted in anguish, but you continued walking. 

Then suddenly, you paused. He thought that, perhaps, you were reconsidering parting ways with him, that you were going to smile and tell him to drop the formalities, but your momentary falter was just to let the small fox descend your body before you reentered the palace.

The tiny creature ran across the gardens, and you were gone.

— ♛ —

Kento sat on an outdoor bench made of stone. The garden that stretched before him represented you in every way. After all, it was you who brought the very warmth that made the variety of flowers in this garden bloom. Your existence, the flame within you, brought an end to a Cold World; saved the shivering animals and children on the brink of death, blossomed plants that fed the poor and starved, and ended the days of endless freezing. 

Kento was only four when you were born, but, as he sat on the soft cream-colored bench that you undoubtedly picked out yourself, he thought about the faint memory of that day. The day of your birth.

The terrifying blankets of snow and ice melted. Animals thought to be dead and extinct were running, jumping, and hopping about. Fleeting citizens from the western villages crowded the cobblestone streets as a sleeping volcano suddenly awakened. Flowers and plants sprawled spontaneously — his mother, who was pale and shivering as she held on to her children moments before, stepped outside and plucked a fresh grape off a grapevine that had appeared outside of their raggedy cottage.

Suddenly, the rope involved in the game of tug-of-war between his heart and soul had snapped, and it hit him all at once.

Your father was responsible for his father’s death, yes, but you . . . you saved him. You saved his mother.

A bittersweet smile graced Kento’s face. His stomach churned; was it butterflies? Knots? He didn’t know. Perhaps, he’d never come to understand the feelings you evoked within him.

But he knew one thing for certain.

The idea of your beautiful face frowning as tears threatened to fall from your eyes — on your birthday, nevertheless — from the words he spoke made his heart ache.

Kento rose from the bench. Just as he took a step towards the entrance of the ballroom, a sudden force of energy made the ballroom windows shatter. Heat and light filled the sky. The world itself shook as an ear-shattering boom blasted from one side of the palace. 

The knight found himself falling to his knees, as the impact was strong enough to send a shockwave through the garden. His wide eyes witnessed the enormous puff of flames, and part of the palace started to cave in.

Rubble filled the ballroom.

“No. God, no.”

Kento’s legs were numb, but they carried him out of the garden — where frightened animals screeched and ran — and he forced his way inside the ballroom through a broken window. Dark smoke, dust, flames, and never-ending screams of terror filled the air. He coughed, his brown eyes burned which created tears that slipped down his ash-covered face, but he hoisted himself over fallen rubble until he made it to where your throne used to be. 

Now, it was nothing but . . . it was nothing.

His eyes couldn’t make out the mess of debris and flame. The smoke made it difficult to distinguish bodies from stone, but he knew well that before him was that familiar gigantic beast, clawing at the rubble, whimpering. Your beloved lion was searching for you, digging for you. The sight of it gave Kento the devastating confirmation he needed that you were there.

Underneath smoldering embers, a destroyed throne, and pieces of a collapsed ceiling, Kento saw the scraps of a torn lilac ballgown. He ran for it.

Armored hands pulled and pushed away at fallen wreckage so heavy, Kento gritted his teeth due to the pure strain on his body. But, damn it all, he used every bit of his solid muscle to lift, pull, and push, until he saw a bruised, ash-covered leg and heard a weak cry.

Then, all of the debris felt weightless. 

“I’m right here,” Kento called out, careful to keep his voice steady and calm. “I’m coming, just hold on.”

Slowly, your injured, trembling body revealed itself to Kento after he shoved shattered pieces of one of the massive chandeliers. You were face down. As if you were made of glass, fragile, he carefully flipped you over, only to see a scared, but otherwise okay, tiny dragon cradled in your arms.

Your position, and thus, your wounds, told him that you must have shielded it. 

He gritted his teeth. Seeing you like this . . . it was unbearable. Who could have done this?

Kento pulled you into his arms, holding on tightly to your smaller frame.

You whimpered. Blood spewed from your lips, decorating your chin, and Kento pulled you close.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m going to get you out of here-”

The ballroom shook again. There was another deafening boom, followed by a wave of piercing screams. Another explosion within the palace. Kento could hear the crackling walls and ceilings, and he knew what that meant.

He folded your body underneath his. Reo, your lion, too placed his body over yours. Kento shielded you with his bigger, armor-covered frame, and more rubble started to collapse. Feeling it fall against his protected backside — god, did it hurt. It hurt like hell. But it wasn’t enough to kill or bury him, so he hooked his arm underneath your knees, his other arm cradling your upper half, and he rose to his feet.

“Stay with me,” he glanced down at you as best as he could through his blurred vision. “I promise I’ll protect you. Just stay with me.”

Your eyes fluttered open. Suddenly, they widened, and you began to turn your head frantically every which way as Kento carried you. He parted his lips to tell you to lie still, assuming that you were falling into a state of panic, but before he could utter a single word, you started to squirm around. You wriggled yourself out of his grasp.

You landed on your feet and started running — or rather, limping — in the opposite direction, breathing erratically with every twist and turn of your head.

“Where are you going? We need to leave, now!” Kento shouted.

In your condition, you couldn’t make it far. All he had to do was reach forward, wrap his arm around your waist, and pull you backwards until your back hit his chest.

“Blaze,” you cried. “ . . . Must’ve dropped him! I can’t . . . can’t find him! And there are people still in here, a-and my animals . . . Reo . . . just let me go!”

He tried to ignore your cries. Saving you was his only priority. It had to be. But, as he went to lift you yet again, another explosion, further away this time, sent a violent vibration throughout the ballroom, and he lost a bit of his balance.

That was enough for you to wiggle free. 

Kento shouted your name, but you paid him no mind. The fires scattered throughout the ballroom wouldn’t hurt you, but the collapsing rubble? It could.

You ran across rubble and shoved your way through panicked, running guests, but alas, through the smoke and ash clouding the air, you made out the tiny red creature amidst the debris, fluttering and shrieking. Your dear, frightened baby dragon was searching for you, calling for your help.

You extended your arms, reaching for him. 

That was when you heard it; it, being an unfamiliar voice, one that shouted, “There’s the princess, fucking take her already, dead or alive!”

Someone was charging at you. The nearby burning fires gave you enough light to make out a masked figure, dressed in black, who clenched a knife between his fists, so ready and eager to drive it into the side of your stomach.

Just as the knife nearly grazed your corset, a sword suddenly pierced through the attacker’s stomach, blood and sharp silver steel poking out of him as the light left his murderous eyes.

The sword was then yanked out of him. 

Kento watched the man he murdered fall to the rubble-covered ground with a thump, then his eyes were on you, quickly scanning your body for any new injuries.

But there was no time for you to thank him. No time for him to grab you and run. 

More masked men with knives and swords drawn started to charge at you both.

“Run,” Kento commanded. 

But it amounted to nothing. The masked men circled you both. There was no escape.

Kento turned slowly, counting them. There were five. Five men he would have to kill.

He sighed, deflecting an oncoming attack with ease, driving his own sword into the guts of yet another man. Though he was actively taking someone’s life, his eyes were on you, watching as two men charged at you without weapons: clearly, their preference was to take you alive.

“Shit,” Kento thought, pulling his sword out of the man. 

Your tiny dragon rapidly flapped its wings, fluttering high enough to latch its small mouth to the ankle of one of your attackers. The victim of the little attack winced, reaching down to his ankle in an attempt to pull him off, but you tried to reach for your baby dragon first.

The other masked man took that opportunity to grab a fistful of your hair. He yanked you. Hard. Your head was already bruised and battered from the initial explosion, and this forced a pained cry out of you. 

Kento heard it. He was in the process of stabbing two other masked men when he heard it. 

He clenched his jaw. He gripped the handle of his sword with such force, he could hear his own knuckles crack.

When the masked man who held you by your hair felt the presence of someone behind him, he turned around. His eyes widened at the sight of that massive knight looming over him, one who was already quite big to begin with, but seemed twice as big now. More like a beast than a human. 

“Get your hands off of her,” Kento warned. 

The man was going to reach for his knife, hold it against your neck, and prattle on with some ultimatum, but Kento didn’t give the man a chance to even gasp at the sight of him before he strategically placed his hands around his head and snapped his neck with an unpleasant crack.

As for the final masked man, between dealing with a pesky little dragon who was biting at him and spitting tiny little bouts of flame at his flesh and that pissed-off giant of a knight making his way towards him, he shouted, “Damn it, to hell with all this!” and tried to run away.

He made it four steps before Kento threw his blood-covered sword like a javelin, and it was launched through the masked man’s chest. 

“Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” Kento leaned down. He gazed at you with the softest, worry-filled brown eyes. His thumb grazed your cheek with an utterly surprising gentleness, considering how brutally he had just murdered several men moments before.

You shrugged. “I’m . . . alive. Thank you, Kento.”

He smiled. 

But as the sound of stomping footsteps approached, Kento rose to his feet. This wasn’t over. Whoever was attacking your kingdom, so desperate to capture you, they weren’t planning on giving up just yet.

Kento walked over to the man he had killed last and pulled his sword from his chest as more masked men charged at him, and he found himself in another battle.

You scooped up your dragon and limped towards a broken window, crawling over a mix of fallen debris and corpses. 

“Go,” you mumbled to Blaze, extending your hands to release the small creature. “Return to me when it’s safe, sweetheart.”

Though he was hesitant, the baby dragon groaned with understanding and fluttered away.

You didn’t have the strength of a knight, nor a hard-working subject. But you didn’t let that stop you from grabbing hold of the collar of a random person  — the first living person you could get your hands on. You dragged the whimpering, injured person towards the window, tripping over your ripped lilac ballgown as you gasped and strained, breathless, but you hoisted the person over the window’s ledge and out of the smokey, collapsing, fire and rubble-filled ballroom.

Thank goodness it was on the first floor of the palace.

You fell to your knees. Your breathing was loud. Strained. Every bone in your body ached. New spouts of fresh blood seeped from your wounds, mixing with the ash and dried blood coating your body, but, even though your heart pounded as if it wanted to give out, you rose to your feet. You moved your hands throughout the rubble, and they landed on a torso. One that was rising and falling with shallow breaths. 

One that was small.

“You’ll be alright, my love. Help will come,” you whispered, though your voice was shaking with uncertainty. 

You cautiously put the child out of the window. Then another person. Then another.

You hoisted one woman over your shoulders. She was a tiny thing, but with your exhausted and bruised body, you were certain you’d struggle to carry a small bag of potatoes. But you recognized this woman’s uniform. Though her youthful face was covered with soot, she was one of your servants — the redheaded one who was always in your bedchamber, tending to your needs. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to check whether or not her chest was rising or falling. You only carried her to another broken window, your knees threatening to buckle, and you pushed her out, hearing a little gentle thud as she hit the shrubbery.

“Please let help come. Please let it come,” you whispered.

There was another vibrating explosion in the distance. Orange flames that could be seen from the windows brightened the ballroom. It knocked you off your feet for a moment, but you regained your footing and grabbed the arm of someone on the ground. You strained as you attempted to pull the person free from the fallen pillar they were stuck under, but there was no use. You collapsed in defeat. 

Their visible body was hard to make out, but you ran your hand across their face until you found their nose. No puff of air hit your finger.

With a defeated sigh, you rose to your feet. It was then that you noticed those lifeless, open eyes. And you recognized that shade of blue.

A shocked gasp escaped you. Reaching down, you closed the eyes of Prince Satoru with trembling, bloodied fingers. “I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m sorry.”

The next several minutes were a blur. 

There you were, using the last of your strength to drag the unconscious, heavily injured body of Prince Suguru across the wreckage, when heavy hands gripped your waist. One second, you were lifted into the air, and in the next, you were being thrown against a fallen, sharp stone. The impact resulted in an explosion of searing pain that was too much for your mind and body to tolerate. You could taste blood.

You were screaming, but you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t hear anything. You could barely see anything — the last thing you caught a glimpse of before slipping into a realm of unconsciousness were the black boots of a masked man walking towards you, and Kento . . . Kento dashing in front of the man’s raised sword, and getting stabbed through a gap in his ruined armor nearest his lower abdomen.

Your surroundings became nothing more than a black abyss, and there was one, final explosion.

— ♛ —

TWO DAYS LATER

He was staring at a familiar ceiling. 

It was brown. Wooden. Raggedy.

As Kento Nanami blinked, blinked, and blinked, it hit him.

He was home.

He sat up in bed, fighting the burst of pain that surged through him from the bandaged wound on his shirtless lower body. When he looked down, there was a familiar, tiny red dragon resting on his thigh.

“You’re awake. That’s great.” The soft voice startled him. Only then, turning his head to the side, did he realize that you were sitting at his bedside. A brown cloak was draped across your head, a choice clearly made to conceal your identity while walking among your subjects.

Or, given the recent events that were coming back to Kento’s memory, bit by bit, it was, perhaps, a choice made to conceal your identity for your own safety.

“How is it that you’re awake and I wasn’t ‘til now?” Kento’s voice was hoarse, and he coughed. “Last I remember, I was the one carrying your unconscious body out of-”

He coughed yet again.

You walked away for a moment and returned with a cup of water.

“Drink this,” you said.

He took it with thanks. As he gulped it down, he recalled the last of what he could remember. 

He took a sword to the stomach to protect you. There was another explosion. The biggest of them all. Part of the ceiling collapsed on the man who stabbed him. The entire ballroom was becoming a sea of falling rubble and flames on a greater scale than before. Kento scooped up your unconscious body and ran, jumped; did whatever he had to do to get across the debris. He used all of his remaining strength to toss you out of the window first. With the ballroom falling apart second by second, he wasn’t certain if he’d have enough time to crawl out of the window and save his own life, but that didn’t matter. 

Your safety came first.

You came first.

He didn’t remember anything after getting you out of that ballroom. He was alive still, but-

“After our medics found you and patched you up, I decided to bring you home. Your mother and I spent the last two days taking care of you. I actually just finished washing your face and brushing your teeth.” You suddenly spoke, as if reading his thoughts. “It wasn’t out of kindness, really. Our hospitals are . . . it’s a nightmare. Thank you for saving me, Kento.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, holding on to the empty cup of water. His thumb tapped rapidly against the side of it, and he frowned. “That attack was a long time coming, wasn’t it?”

Your teary eyes locked with his. You gave him a sad, knowing smile. “Like I said, you’re great at putting the pieces together.”

It all made sense. 

After all, why now did the king insist on you having a personal knight? 

The king must have known that there was a group from another kingdom who wanted to get their hands on the Vulcania Princess, dead or alive. 

Kento rubbed his face out of pure exhaustion.

“Why host a ball when your life is in danger?” Kento questioned. “Greed. That’s it, right? The king couldn’t pass up the chance to receive praise and gifts and kick-start your engagement, even if it meant putting you at risk. What is he thinking?”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s dead.”

Kento allowed the silence to fester. During which, he grabbed ahold of your hand, stroking your soft skin with his rough thumb.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t lie to me.” You mumbled, but despite your cold tone, you didn’t pull your hand away from him. “There’s no time to mourn. The kingdom is in shambles. We’re vulnerable. Weak. People are dead, from our kingdom and others. And now? Now I’m queen. How am I supposed to . . .”

There it was, the mourning you tried to swear off.

Tears fell from your eyes. Kento didn’t waste a second before gently moving the sleepy dragon to an empty spot on the bed before swinging his legs off the side, and ignoring the pain as he leaned up and pulled your chair closer to him. He wrapped his arms around you gently — aware of your potential wounds though he couldn’t see them right now — and he pulled you against his bare chest.

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly. “It’s okay.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t cry in front of anyone.” You pulled away from him, wiping the tears that fell from your right eye, and he stroked away the ones that fell from the left with his thumb.

As he did so, he couldn’t help but let his thumb hover over a deep, healing scratch on your cheek. 

“It’s okay to cry. You’re just a person.” 

“Am I?”

“Of course you are,” his brown eyes gazed into your sad eyes. “You like warm things. Warm drinks, warm weather, warm blankets, fireplaces, fire-breathing dragons . . . you take a walk through your garden when you need to clear your head. Though you’ve never held a sword or a shield, you don’t hesitate to protect others, and not just people who are important to you, but strangers as well, and all kinds of creatures. Your jokes are so awful, they’re funny. You bite your bottom lip when you are lost in thought, and if those thoughts are worrisome, you play with your necklace. You cut people off when they’re speaking, but you don’t do it out of malice, you’re just brilliant, and you already know what someone is going to say. You’re unintentionally ignorant. Quite ignorant. But you try your hardest to overcome it once something is brought to your attention. It was you who ended wars with a simple speech. Recently, you argued for an increase in pay for knights of all ranks, I’m certain of it. And yet, you didn’t tell me, because you don’t feel the need to brag about your good deeds either.” Kento’s thumb hovered over your bottom lip. He whispered, “Hm, maybe . . . maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you aren’t just a person, because I’m certain I’ve never met anyone else like you.”

Amidst the sadness, there was a shimmer of something else within your eyes. A little spark of hope.

“Is that really how you see me? I think . . . this is the first time someone has given me a compliment that has nothing to do with beauty. At least, most of that was a compliment, I think.” You gave a soft smile that stretched the scratch on your cheek. “Wait, did you fail to compliment my beauty because you no longer find me attractive? I couldn’t exactly blame you if that’s the reason.”

“You’re mesmerizing. Inside and out. Your wounds don’t change that. But don’t worry. I’m sure they’re mixing up the strongest healing elixir known to all just for you. Your wounds will exist only as a memory, just you wait.” 

That shimmer of hope within your eyes brightened. Kento wanted nothing more than for it to stay that way, but it couldn’t. Not when your life was still in danger. Not when there were people out there who wanted to hurt you.

Kento placed his hands on either side of his legs and started to push off his bed, but suddenly, your hands shot out, pushing against his thighs and seizing his movements.

“What are you doing?” You asked urgently.

“Trying to leave my bed, if you’ll let me.”

“Have you gone mad? You were stabbed. I won’t let you leave this bed until you’ve recovered fully. Try to leave again and I’ll . . . tell your mother . . . when she returns.”

Kento frowned. “Your life is in danger. I can’t just-”

“It’s not your duty to protect me anymore.”

That frown deepened, his brows furrowed in utter confusion. “What are you saying?” He asked.

You were silent for a moment, but when you spoke yet again, you couldn’t look him in the eye. You didn’t have the nerve. “I'm the ruling monarch now. I call the shots. I’ll pass a law to make it illegal for employers to discriminate against members of certain bloodlines that have decided to stray from the career path chosen by their people.” Your eyes fell on his bandaged abdomen. “In other words, you no longer have to serve as a knight. Go on and enjoy a different career of your choice. In the meantime, I’ll make sure your family is well fed. It’s the least I can do.” 

“No.”

You looked at him, eyebrows shooting up in pure shock. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m not leaving you. Not now,” Kento said.

“Kento, there’s no need. There are plenty of other knights who actually want to be knights. They can protect me just fine.”

“I don’t care. I’m not leaving your side.  I don’t mind dying for you-” 

“Damn it all, Kento, I said no. Look at your condition! Look!”

Your sudden shouting stunned him. Based on the way your tears fell, and your hand clenched and unclenched around nothing, it surprised you too. “That wound of yours is all my fault. I should have left when you told me to. I won’t allow something like this to happen again. I won’t have it.”

“Look at me.” His hand was once again on your face, but not stroking your cheek. This time, his long fingers gripped your chin, forcing you to stare into his eyes. “I won’t have you dying a preventable death because of incompetent knights while I waltz around my village baking bread or sharpening knives.”

“Is this an ego thing?” Do you think you’re the only knight strong enough to protect me?”

Though your question was a serious one, Kento couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “I understand everything about you down to which foot you step with first, but you don’t understand me at all.”

“What do you-”

It was sudden, but Kento was fed up with your lack of understanding. He released your chin, but only to snake his hand around your head and pull you close, closing the gap between you by crashing your lips together. The kiss was warm. Your lips were soft — so damn soft — and he couldn’t help but hold on to you even tighter, melting into the kiss because he needed more. Though his tongue rubbed against yours, though he was breathless, and though it hurt his injured stomach to do so, he still wanted more; one large hand hooked around your thigh, the other against your back, and he pulled you onto his lap.

Your hand pressed against his muscular, broad chest. He swallowed a soft moan that escaped your lips. 

“Kento,” you gave a little whimper.

“I know,” he whispered against your wet lips, the words barely leaving his own lips before he reconnected his mouth to yours. He pulled you against his mouth even harder, made you straddle his lap even tighter, and kissed you with lips and tongue even deeper.

When the kiss ended, Kento looked at your face, your skin softly illuminated by the flickering light from the candles scattered throughout his house. 

“Do you understand now?” He asked softly.

You nodded, then smiled. “I didn’t know that was coming, but I'm glad I brushed your teeth for you.” 

Kento couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh, pressing a kiss against your cheek.

Your fingers played with the blonde hair at the nape of his neck, and he pressed yet another kiss against your jaw, then your neck, all before pulling away.

“Tell me the truth. Do you love me?” He asked, his breath patting against the skin of your collarbone.

“I do, but if you have to ask, then you might not understand me as well as you think you do.” 

Kento pulled away from your neck, but when his eyes met yours, all he saw within your gaze was pure sadness. 

“But, Kento, Umarith finds itself in yet another war, and our enemies won’t give up until they have me-”

“Then let me kill them all for you.”

“Kento,” you frowned.

“Your Majesty,” he gave your chin a quick kiss, his large hand rubbing your thigh. “I mean it. I will save you. I just need you to let me.”

You bit your lip in thought. “Fine, but on one condition. No, two conditions.”

You leaned in; you were so close, he could feel your breath pat against his ear.

“I refuse to be a kindhearted damsel in distress once again. They want to capture or kill me, the Vulcania Princess- or I guess, queen now, because they think it’ll put an end to the brutal snowstorms killing their crops and their people, so I’ve been thinking, since they crave my warmth so badly . . . I should burn their kingdom to the ground. Allow me to fight by your side and do so.”

“And what’s your second condition, Your Majesty?” Kento whispered.

You pulled away from him, staring into his brown eyes. Your warm hands cupped the knight’s face.

“You drop the formalities like I’ve been asking you to,” you paused. ��Unless, in due time, you allow me to call you my king.”

Kento couldn’t help but gaze at you with pure astonishment. It was the same look he had in his eyes when he first saw the enormous statue of you in his village. He should have put the pieces together then — that he was nothing more than someone else who worshipped you.

Kento’s lips found yours, once again letting his kisses speak for him. And this kiss told you several things: 

Kento Nanami wanted to hate you.

Truly, he did. He tried.

But in the end, he couldn’t stray from his bloodline’s only purpose to shed blood; to die in service of whomever sat on the throne, but this time around? A Nanami would survive, and Kento would become your cherished spouse and, when the time came, protect your offspring. 

Kento Nanami wanted to hate you, but now, the knight’s soul wanted nothing more than to love you, and kill for you.

♛ — What did you think? Please let me know! Reblogs & comments are appreciated!

♛ — @sad-darksoul @priv-rose @yihona-san06 @keriaonmarz @luvvmae @thequeenofcurses @underworldsheiress @notgoodforlife @thewondrousdreamer @levisfavoriteteashop @preciousamethyst @iwanttohitmyself @lil-apple-pie @prettypixigrl @averysmolbear @starstoru @starlightanyaaa @he11okitty-mari @dolphin1135 @ioveartfilm @filhadaanarquia @blackdxggr @jaegergirl @gunslxtz @he11okitty-mari @koikohib @http-bell

[thoughtsforsoob]

ateez & sweet things they do for their gf's

note: i had this idea in my head for two seconds and I was not about to let it go. please enjoy this (not proofread)

hongjoong

never let's you pay for anything. ever. when you to go the store together, he pulls out his card immediately. when you buy groceries, he has his card ready. when you want coffee or snacks, he has his card ready. he loves to take care of you this way if you even complain, he playfully shushes you and kisses you to shut you. "quiet, let me love you!" he whines

seonghwa

let's you doll him up with cute clothes and ake up whenever you want to. after he started doing his modeling apperances, you asked if it was okay for you to dress him up and do makeup on him. of course he is okay with it and he even let's you take his card to pick clothes for him. when you get him all ready, he shows you his modeling skills in your living room, strutting and all.

yunho

takes you everywhere! when he is on tour or doing other promotions, he collects a list of places he is sure you would love. then, when you two have some time, he books the trip and takes you to all the places he had on his list. of course, he buys you new clothes for the occasion. a funny thing you two do together is buy clothes to fit in with the locals. it's a cute little thing that you two enjoy.

yeosang

little mr.sweetie pie would do anything you ever asked him. something you speciically asked him to do was shave/wax his under arms. you didn't expect him to actually do it but when he turned up at your house the next day with clean under arms, you were so happy. "i did what you asked me! do you like it? it's sexy huh?"

san

let's you take care of byeol when his away. his sweet little girl was only even entrusted to his family or friends when he went away on tour. now that you were around, he only ever trusted you to watch over his princess. you sent him daily pictues and he was so grateful to have you watching over his baby. he enjoys you so much, he asks you to be her mama.

mingi

even if it makes him a little uncomfrtable, he would grow out his facial hair a bit for you. you showed him a tiktok of him with a beard/moustance filter and you said it made him look sexy. for abount a month, he stopped shaving his face. everyone noticed, especially you. eventually, you noticed he was constantly itchy so you told him to shave it but it was fun while it lasted.

wooyoung

sometimes during your talking stage, you mentioned that long hair on guys was attractive to you. next thing you know, wooyoung started to skip haircuts and his hair was growing long. once it got to his shoulders, he started letting you make tiny braids or a ponytail in his hair. he wants you to think he's attractive.

jongho

does all the handy work around the apartment. since you two started livin together, you hadn't needed to pick up, carry, or fix anything, jongho is always there to fix leaks in the sink, pick up the grocery bags, and reach the cups on the top shelf. he also builds ever piece of furniture that enters your shared space. he never complains either. he's just happy to not see you lifing a finger.

[yearningqueen]

The way she needs to be loved

Pairing: Pazzi x Fem oc

Warnings: Intense argument, emotional crying, mentions of age difference, soft comfort

Synopsis: When Paige pushes too hard during an argument, Miel breaks down in Azzi’s lap. Azzi, quietly protective, finally confronts Paige about the pressure she’s putting on someone younger, softer, and still learning how to love without fear.

Tension had been thick since practice. Paige was sharp. Miel was quiet.

“I’m trying, Paige,” Miel said softly, voice already shaky. “I’m not you. I can’t handle things like you do.”

“I’m not asking you to be me,” Paige snapped. “I’m asking you to grow the hell up sometimes. We can’t cuddle our way out of everything.”

Miel blinked fast. “Don’t talk to me like that. Please.”

She turned away, chest hitching, and walked straight into Azzi’s arms. Azzi sat down with her on the couch, pulling Miel into her lap like it was second nature.

Paige stood still, jaw clenched. “Baby—”

“No,” Azzi said sharply, wrapping her arms tighter around Miel. “You don’t get to call her that right now.”

Paige froze. “Azzi…”

“She’s nineteen, Paige,” Azzi said, calm but direct. “And she’s trying. You don’t get to throw that in her face because you’re mad.”

“I didn’t mean to—” Paige started.

“But you did,” Azzi interrupted. She brushed Miel’s curls out of her face gently. “She flinches when you raise your voice. That’s not nothing.”

Miel stayed quiet, her face hidden in Azzi’s neck.

“She’s soft,” Azzi said. “And you knew that when you fell for her. She doesn’t need to change. You do.”

Paige sat down across from them, elbows on her knees, guilt washing over her. “I’m bad at this sometimes.”

“You’re not,” Azzi said. “But she’s not your teammate. She’s your girlfriend. And she loves you in a way that doesn’t come with armor.”

Miel stirred, shifting in Azzi’s lap just enough to glance toward Paige — red cheeks, wet lashes.

“I’m sorry,” Paige said gently. “I didn’t mean it. I was overwhelmed and I took it out on you.”

Miel’s voice was barely a whisper. “You said I needed to grow up.”

“You don’t,” Paige said, her eyes soft. “You love different than me. That’s why I love you.”

Azzi pressed a kiss to Miel’s hair. “Do you want to talk to her?”

Miel nodded, and Azzi helped her move into Paige’s lap. Paige held her instantly, arms wrapped tight around her waist, her lips at Miel’s temple.

“You don’t ever have to earn my softness,” Paige whispered. “It’s already yours.”

Miel let out a quiet breath and leaned into her chest. “I just wanted you to listen.”

“I’m listening now,” Paige said, voice barely above a whisper.

Azzi sat beside them, resting a hand on Miel’s knee.

The tension finally cracked, leaving only closeness behind.

[yourstrulyangie]

CIGARETTES OUT THE WINDOW

𖦹 Synopsis: marriages these days were always so perfect. Couples loved each other with children roaming around a big house, it was all anyone had wanted. A beautiful marriage filled with love. The case for this couple was the complete opposite though. And it seemed that the topic of having no kids coming from strangers drained them. Maybe they weren't the perfect match for each other they always thought they were. A part of them knew that, they did not fully acknowledge it, but it always seemed to keep appearing in their heads every time they argued. He tried, he really tried. But maybe it was just time to let her go.

Word count: 10k

Genre: highschool lovers, happens during the 80’s, failed marriage.

Warnings: Violence. bunch of angst and hurt, infertility (not mentioned in who). smoking. implied pregnancy loss. brief depictions of self harm, mentions of death and sickness. Blood. Drug possession and use (viagra). Teen violence. Assault with deadly weapon. Strong language. Sexual jokes. Underage use of alcohol (i in no way support), mentions of abuse and parental neglect. In-law hatred. Mental health illness. Hyperventilation. Heeseung, Jay and Jake present in a flashback. Drugging a teacher. Endangerment. Misuse of alcohol. Suicide. Reader discretion is advised.

Note: this was supposed to be longer and published a long time ago (in my head) but that didn't work out so!! Its written in third person so it might be tacky🧍🏾‍♀️Please bear with me if this is a hard read its my first full work >⁠.⁠<

New Year's Eve.

She didn't bother to take down the christmas tree that had been there for a little over two years now, and he didn't bother to not smoke in front of his parents inside the house. They didn't care, and the only thing that seemed to affect the two was whenever children were brought up. 

It was pretty obvious, everyone knew it. Even the store owner down the street knew about how they wanted their own, but never had any.

Park Sunghoon knew how much his wife longed for her own, he’d see the look in her eyes when she’d look at his nieces. He realised she loved kids way before they got married, sometime around high school, where the two would sneak out of school to skip and would go to some park, and she’d play with the little babies and sneakily give them some ice cream. Oh how he wished they were in an alternate reality where they had their own. But unfortunately, she drank too much and he wasn't home a lot.

It was maybe the fact that they didn't love each other that much anymore, but they’d been in love for years and years, they didn't think it could possibly fade away after all this time together.

Why would it suddenly become so bad? They weren't that reckless towards each other, were they?

Maybe it was the fact that soft good mornings and long kisses turned into cold coffees and a word count of less than five shared in two days. Now, they would lay down on the same bed and face away from each other like they were strangers sharing a cab. 

He doesn't defend her in front of his family, she doesn't stay up late waiting for him to come at midnight, it was mutual, half intentionally. Again, they cared for too long that they just didn't anymore.

His wife as well knew how much he wanted kids. He’d talk about how all his colleagues have their first borns, second borns, third borns, his heart warms at the sight of them. He wanted a lot, until he just gave up.

The woman got pregnant a few years back, and the two were the happiest couple ever. He’d bring her roses after work every day and she’d bake his favourite pie, then they’d go to the beach on Sundays and he would swim while she tanned and laughed at him. 

The awaited doctor appointment came during one of the second trimester checkups. They went hand in hand, smiles and giggles filling up the room, til the doctor broke it down. He said the baby's heart wasn't beating, and maybe she should visit a gynaecologist because there wasn't any other explainable reason as to why she would suddenly lose the baby.

It felt like her whole world had stopped, her dreams of having kids running around the park and having the biggest cakes for their birthdays shattered. She stared at the doctor with a blank expression, the lump in her throat tightening and hurting, waiting for any explanation, but the only one he could offer her was a tight lipped smile saying that they should try again.

Sunghoon didn't come home from the bar that night, and she stayed at home sitting on the balcony, smoking her first cigarette in a while. All the effort only for it to go away in a few minutes.

She could see Sunghoon pulling away, refusing to communicate with her and shutting her out, only because his parents were able to convince him that it was her fault, that she was reckless and smoked behind his back. That's why she lost his baby. She then did the same to him, it got so bad that she even prepared divorce papers once.

She decided to give him one more chance before she would show him the divorce papers. And she really hoped he would stay because she was prepared to let him go yet, not like this. 

She watched from the stairs  as he put on his shoes by the door, her hair still a bit neat and her cheeks crusty with dry tears. “..stay.” she spoke in a low voice, her voice hoarse but soft, as if she would just beg him to spend the night with her again. Just for once.

The man looked up at her, his expression plain, cold. The warmth and subtle light that would be in his eyes when he used to look at her were gone. He stared back at her, before he scoffed, turning to the door. “Please don't make me beg you to stay,” she said in a louder voice, a plea in it.

The man stilled, before letting out a sigh and turning to her again. “Im not going to sit here and baby you all day, you're a grown woman.” “hoon,” her voice cracked, pleading that he would listen to her, and stay for the night. Heck, she would even let him leave the next night if he only stayed with her on this one.

She stepped off the last stair, the nightgown swallowing her figure, and her shrunk down –used to be– baby bump. “Just one night.” “you think one night is going to fix anything?” he let out a bitter chuckle, and for the first time he actually looked at her. Her eyes were red, her breathing was shallow and her undereyes spoke for themselves. She hadn't been sleeping at night because he was gone and he’d forgotten to hide the cigarettes. Though it seemed that he did every night he left.

“No, but it would feel like it.” she said, her eyes slightly shiny, from tears. He went quiet, clenching his jaw, the keys in his jingled in a sound way too loud for the silence. “..you should go to bed,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead as he looked away from her. She shook her head, taking his hand in both of hers. Oh her younger self would have never believed she ever had to beg him like this, beg him to make her feel like she still mattered.

“Stop running away from me,” she whispered in a broken voice, tears almost escaping her eyes, lips trembling, her words lingering in the air between them like smoke of a cigarette she had forgotten to put out. “Im not running away from you.” “youre blaming me for something we both lost.”

She wiped away her tears, waiting for his response, but he didn't say anything, just stared at the wall in front of him blankly, before he didn't, he looked back at her and spoke. “I can't love you without resenting you.” 

That felt like a slap to her. Harsh, raw, and true. But she didn't flinch, she didn't reply, just slowly processed his words, swallowing down the bile rushing up to her throat. Not now. “..you can't love me like you did before?” 

“...no.”

And that's how Park Sunghoon ended up in the bar he was a regular at. “Buzz light blues”, the kind with lights that made him feel sick, even if he wasn't. But he didn't care enough to change to another one.

He asked for a whiskey, strong, neat, he didn't even have to repeat his words, everybody knew him around here, they didn't have to ask. He lit his cigarette quietly, like it was the only thing keeping his hands from shaking. His first drag was sharp, as if it was his lifeline. He slowly exhaled, leaning back in his seat, the smoke spinning around him and fading into the hum of the jazz music in the background. 

“Rough night?” the woman who sat beside him asked, her voice tinged with a hint of playfulness. He stayed quiet, his eyes on the table, before he nodded his head, downing his drink.

“You want to talk about it?” the woman said, a smile on her lips, biting her nail. Sunghoon almost rolled his eyes, taking a puff of his cigarette and scoffing. “No,” the woman’s smile faltered, taking a sip of her drink and clearing her throat, her eyes falling on his ring. “It's new years, your family?” she asked, pushing her cup away and looking up at him. 

“..it's new years eve.” he muttered back, brushing his hair away from his face frustratingly, leaning back in his seat, looking at his ring. “..exactly..you should be having fun.”

“It's new years eve.” he said again, this time as if he was more sure than the last time he said it. It would be the third year of him being married to the supposed love of his life, but he’s here talking to a woman who is trying to initiate something bigger than her. He doesn't like unloyal people. And he for sure isn't one himself.

He abruptly stood up, taking all of the cash in his pocket and putting it on the counter for the bartender who served him to take, before he stood up, leaving the bar without another word. 

He stared at the water underneath him while he stood on top of a bridge, his eyes teary, nose burning, either from the alcohol he drank, or his tears, he didn't know. He stayed quiet, his Adam's apple bobbing in its place as if he was holding in a sob or a cry, he didn't want to be a coward. But he felt like one. Definitely.

He let out a sigh of frustration, stepping away from the bridge and looking back at the streets, before his movements halted again. He looked down at the snow beneath him, a tear from his eyes falling on top of it, and oh did it feel like his own tears made up their own trivia to mock him. To call him a cunt, to remind him all he ever rooted for won't get him the only thing he wanted. A fucking kid.

It frustrated him. The fact that anyone else could have one but it was so hard for him. When his wife's body decided it was about time to get pregnant it suddenly didn't want to carry a child anymore and killed it. Didn't even give it a chance to be premature or anything. Just a straight up miscarriage. It really made him think, has he really ever wronged anyone so bad in his past life they were coming after him now? Or maybe it wasn't even in his past life, maybe it was in this one. Maybe the man's window he decided to break when he was little or maybe even the teacher he glued his paper to because she didn't let him pass her class.

He scoffed, kicking at the white snow before cursing under his breath. He didn't want to look at it, it scared him, it made him feel disgusted it made him feel so damn overwhelmed. He brushed his hair away from his face, inhaling deeply as he tried, really tried to grasp onto himself, but he felt like every hair on his head was falling and every breath he took was useless.

Then finally, after he was fed up from the feeling and his ring was feeling a bit too tight, he took it off his slightly swollen hand and threw it into the water beneath the bridge.

It only hit him harder after that, the realisation that he’d thrown away his ring after he finally took a deep breath, he could hear the cars roaring and the waves under him clashing. He cleared his breath, and then jumped. Not up and down. But into the water.

The freezing water hit him like a brick wall— lungs folding in on themselves and eyes snapping wide. He didn't expect it to be so cold, and it definitely did not soothe any of the feelings he felt before throwing the ring. He couldn't lose it, no. It was a gift from her. A sign of his love and loyalty towards her. Till death did them apart, he swore. he didn't lose anything that she gave to him. He cares about looking like a pussy or being viewed as an unhappy man. He was unhappy, but he still believed he could love her, and he didn't want it to all hit him like a metal pole when he actually did.

Sunghoon didn't float. He dived.

He somehow was thankful for all the swimming classes he ever had and how he was devoted to it, even though he’d never gotten first place. He reached for the ring blindly, his lungs screaming for air, and he actually felt like a crazy man. 

Then his fingers wrapped around it. Something small. Something cold. It was the ring. 

He got back up to the surface, letting out an exhale and breathing in, swimming to a surface. He collapsed on the icy ground, his heart beating loudly in his chest, and it felt like that was all he could hear for the moment. 

He looked at the ring, bringing it to his chest as if he wanted to protect it from all the wrongs in the world. Except he might be wrong himself. He let out a laugh. It was hollow and wet and bitter, shaking his head. This was all he was doing for a ring? The ring sat on his hands, cold and wet, biting into the lines of his fingers like it knew it didn't belong there anymore. He turned it, slowly, the silver color catching some yellow hue from the streetlight a few feet away from him, like it was mocking him. A promise once, now just weight. 

He stayed like that again for a while, lost in his thoughts about how different things could have been if he had kids, or if he had married someone else entirely, though he wasn't sure his younger self would be loyal to anyone but his current wife. He stood up. It was time to head home.

Park Sunghoon sat at the dinner table, quiet, listening to his family talk about something he didn't care much about. His eyes fell on his wife, listening to his mother talk about how his cousin recently gave birth to a kid. The same cousin that she attended their graduation with Sunghoon. He looked at his mom, his eyes a bit narrowed, and once his mother caught his gaze, she changed the topic. 

His wife looked in between them, watching as Sunghoon silenced his mother. He had to warn her, and even though they only barely worked, she was grateful for him actually doing something for once, instead of just complete silence.

She could see how his mother gave her sister a sharp glance, like she was telling her to look at her nephew, oh how his wife controlled him and always let him defend her when she couldn't. She clenched her jaw quietly, putting her fork and knife down before she stood up excusing herself from the table to leave.

Sunghoon watched as she left the dining room, and he could hear his mother starting to talk again, as if shaming her. Oh. Why was she shaming his wife? He couldn't even say anything to stop her. He scoffed loudly, giving his mother another glare before he stood up, going after his wife, into the backyard. 

She wasn't smoking, she really tried not to, she didn't want her family in law to smell the smoke and say anything about how it was the reason she’d lost her baby a few years ago. She was starting to resent them. Sunghoon took a seat beside her, not even looking her way and staring into the little garden. The man felt a bit of movement, and looked down at her hand, only to see her scratching it profusely. He swallowed, staring at it, the way her skin reddened, her nails only scratching even more. He could see the way the blood pricked at the top of her skin, dragging along with each nail of hers. He looked away, shaking his head. “Stop it.”

The woman didn't listen to him, only scratching even harder as she stared off at the dark sky, she looked like she wasn't even bothered, like it brought her some sort of comfort, like she didn't want to stop. He hated it. The fact that she was hurting herself in place of finding comfort. It was only then he looked at her hand again and saw the blood, which had increased. 

Roughly, he pulled her hand away, gripping the bloody hand tightly in his. The way the blood clung from her to him, the way he hoped,just hoped that he wouldn't see her scratching herself somewhere else when he would look at her. 

His jaw tightened, looking at her again, only to see her looking back at him, nose red and eyes teary. Her other hand on her lap. She stared back at him, watching as the little blood trailed from his hand into his white shirt. Does he even care about her anymore? Or was it the fact that her scratching herself annoyed him so much he had to stop her?

Sunghoon let out a sigh of frustration, which softened a bit once he saw her looking back at him with her glossy eyes. He took out his handkerchief out of his pocket, pressing against her bloody hand. “I told you to stop it.” he muttered, his throat tight, as if he was holding himself from yelling at her to stop.

She looked at her hand, sniffing as she wiped away the tears that fell quickly, looking away from him. “..can we go home?” she muttered, her voice broken. 

The ride home was quiet, so quiet.

The woman held her composure well, using silence, but even he noticed the subtle shift in her eyelids. Though through the intensity of her tranquil, her eyes held the smallest amount of pain. She ached to itch her wrist again, but Sunghoon told her to keep the handkerchief on it till they went back home.

She leaned her head back once they reached a stop light. And she could see it. Crossing the road with her parents, a beautiful toddler, happy to celebrate the new years. It wasn't fair, she thought, how other parents or adults had the opportunity to have kids, and when they took it, they would have the best kids ever.

She looked away from them, and her composure faltered for a second. Sunghoon didn't miss it, her look of envy, jealousy and sadness. It wasn't fair that other people had children so easily and they couldn't. He clenched his jaw, not really bothering to look at the couple as he stared somewhere else, his eyes tracing the lines of his steering wheel. 

Once they got back to their house, it happened again, another fight. She sat down on the chair of the dining table, her eyes were poisonous to even look upon, so much hatred tainted to her soul. He looked back at her, cold eyes as he brushed his hair away from his face. This all started because he couldn't answer her simple question, was he scared of his own mother?

“So you just let her embarrass me in front of everyone like that?” she said, her voice wavering. It was a mix of emotions. Rage? Disappointment? Simple disbelief that he would even do this to her? She stood up, walking towards him, her height a stark contrast to his. But she could easily reach up and slap the calm look from his face.

He stared back down at her, nose flared in what only seemed like anger, at her because she was yelling at him, or maybe at himself, because he knew she was right. “She’s my mother.” “and im your wife!” she said back, her voice now lower, but still with the same bite in her tone.

Sunghoon scoffed, shaking his head and looking away “you can't defend yourself?” he walked away while asking, into the open kitchen a few feet away from them, only to open his alcohol cabinet, taking out a bottle of whiskey. She stared back at him as he turned his back to her, clenching her jaw once she heard him open the bottle. 

“She’s your mother!” she said, walking back towards him, only for him to chuckle, not even glancing her way. “That's what i said.” he spoke, before he walked away with a glass full of whiskey, into the living room

Sunghoon came home from work to an empty house, the smell of dinner filling the house. Usually, his wife would be sitting in the living room watching television or in their room, asleep. But she wasn't. It felt empty, but he didn't really bother looking for her. He walked into the bathroom to shower, only to catch a glance of something in the bin.

White, a white base with a blue end, was his wife on drugs? He wondered, picking it out, and his world stopped spinning.

No, his wife was not on drugs. He held the object in his hand, eyes wide, looking down at the one line in its window. Had she really expected to be pregnant? After all this time? After all this trying? She shouldn't even hope, he thought, not with the amount of cigarettes she’d smoke on the daily, or the fact they just barely have sex anymore.

She came home late that day, not really looking his way once she did. The moment his eyes met hers, it was as if all hell had broken loose. He stood in front of her, throwing the pregnancy test on the table beside her, waiting for her to explain with wide eyes, filled with rage, maybe even horror. 

The woman swallowed, looking down at the test, before letting out a sigh. “..i had symptoms.” 

Sunghoon almost laughed in her face, his hand gripping his phone almost so tight that his own fingers shook with pain. “Symptoms? You think you can get symptoms?” he said back at her, in a biting tone, as if he was mocking her. She looked up at him, her eyes slightly glossing up at the sight of her own love of her life mocking her for her belief. 

She bit the inside of her cheek, watching his reaction as he waited for her answer. Furry, anger, maybe even pain. “..stop it.” she muttered, her voice barely even audible, like a mouse being confronted by a lion. Her younger self would have never believed this. “Stop it? I should stop- oh my god,” he sighed, facing away from her as he tried to calm himself down, which wasn't really effective.

She shook her head, wiping away the tears that landed on her cheek, only to see him looking at her again, this time, a more composed expression. She stared back at him, his disheveled hair, dark undereyes, she really didn't want to add more to his tiredness. “..goodnight.” she muttered, before heading upstairs. He watched her as she went to their room. He scoffed, kicking at the chair beside him with a curse under his breath. 

He didn't like how easy this all looked for her. How she could just turn her back on everything. He did too. But he convinced himself that it was different, that he had other things to worry about other than kids and pregnancy and parents in law, unlike her.

Sunghoon came home late the same night he jumped over the bridge, guilt consuming him from the inside out, and oh how he hated the feeling of wet clothes sticking to him. It was cold, and he for sure was trembling on his walk back home, barefoot. All he wanted to do now was go home and cry about it quietly on the balcony while he drank more. 

He stepped into the porch, wiggling the door handle. Closed. He wiped away at his face, the silver ring still clutched tightly into his own hand, he didn't want to touch his pocket and find that the keys were gone. He looked around for where the spare key was placed, stumbling and mumbling under his breath, the water dripping from him to stain the wooden porch underneath him. He didn't care if his neighbours saw him and thought that he was crazy, that was a matter to worry about  another time.

He finally found it, under the carpet, which was drenched in water now. He placed it in the key hole, and opened the door, stepping into the warm, familiar smelling house. The water left a trail of where he went as he walked deeper into the living room, eyes falling on the woman sitting down on the couch across from him, staring back. His eyes fell on the papers on the table beside her, divorce papers, he just got even more anxious. She didn't even think about asking where he’d been, why he was drenched from head to toe like he’d been drowning and his faint smell of alcohol, when he stepped towards her in front of her seat, and falling to his knees.

Her eyes widened, hands on his arms almost as if she was about to hold him before he fell but she was too late. He looked up at her through blurry eyes, his gaze glossy, looking at her with that same gaze again, like she was the only girl in the world. “..sunghoon, get up..” she muttered, watching as he shook his head, tears rolling down his cheeks.

He sniffed, hands gripping the blanket on her lap tightly, burying his face in her lap, forehead against her stomach. He sobbed, and she could feel his tears making her clothes damp. She swallowed, her hand gently going up to brush his hair away from his face. 

“..baby,” she muttered, watching as he just continued crying on her lap. He felt suffocated, and the fact that he was now in her embrace made him feel better. But he knew it wouldn't last long, it never did. He didn't care if he was going to wake up sick tomorrow, he didn't care if she found this weird after all he said to her hours back, he didn't want to lose her, that's what he knew. 

“..im sorry,” he sobbed, hands wrapping at her waist, begging her, just for one more night. He didn't want her to leave, he wasn't ready to let her go, he knew she wasn't either, so he had to make her stay. “Please don't leave,” he said, burying his face deeper into her stomach. She could almost feel his fingers trembling around her, or the fact that his lips were turning slightly blue.

She looked at the papers on the table, her fingers twitching, her hand raised as she reached for them, but she didn't. Instead, her hand dropped on the top of his head. “..youre freezing,” she said in a quiet voice, picking up the blanket off her lap and wrapping it around him. He stayed in that position, crying his heart out. 

He could still remember the way she would laugh when they would sneak away from class together, or the way they painted the abandoned nursery room pink together, and how they got paint everywhere. He didn't want any of it to end, and even though it might never happen again, he still clung to the very small slither of hope he had. She still meant the world to him. Even if it would never be like before.

It was supposed to be an important day for her. For them. But it really felt like it wasn't one anymore. She didn't even know why she bought the chocolate cake from the grocery store, it wasn't like anyone else would eat it with her. She sat on the dining table, staring at the cake like it knew all the secrets of life, like it would explain to her that all she went through would be rewarded, but it wasn't. 

It sat there, an unlit candle slightly off centre staring back at her with a laugh full of mockery. The cigarette between her fingers filled the room with smoke, and every time she felt like she couldn't breathe, she would take a puff, then she would feel like she could breathe again. She didn't even know why she bothered to bring the cake. He wouldn't even acknowledge it.

The chair across from her stayed empty. The cake became warm, even the walls felt too quiet, like the house itself stopped trying to comfort her. She looked down at her hands– pale, chipped, old nail polish clinging to the edges. It reminded her of how he used to paint her nails. Used to. Before the silence, before the baby, before everything. 

Her gaze fell on the figure across from her, giving it a small smile through weary eyes. She placed the cigarette on the table, letting out a tired sigh. “You know..” she whispered, voice creaking like old wood, “i would have gotten you a dinosaur cake, you liked them right?” 

She let out a breathy laugh, it was weak and humourless. “Stupid, isn't it? Chocolates are more adult.”

She stayed silent, fingers playing with the wood of the table, which made her feel sick,yet comfortable at the same time. “..you wouldn't have liked how your dad drank,”  she muttered, teary eyes looking back up at whoever was seated on the chair. Which was empty, but her brain told otherwise. 

“..you would have hated me.” she whispered, letting out a laugh while wiping away her tears.

Sunghoon stood by the entrance to the kitchen, watching as she talked to..no one. At first, he thought that she was on the phone, and was saying some stuff while she was high on her cigarette to her mom or her friend, but she wasn't. A half eaten chocolate cake with an unlit candle on it, the cigarette’s ashes on the table, and he looking at whoever the fuck was across from her. Nobody.

He stared at her, and when she realised his presence she turned to stare back at him. He walked towards her, eyes narrowed with a hint of softness in it. “..i told you to cut down on the cigarettes–" she cut him off before he was able to pull away her cancer stick, shaking her head. “It's our anniversary.” he paused his movements, looking back at her, almost letting out a scoff, staring at her with wide eyes.

“You’re high,” he said matter of factly, stepping away from her and taking the pack of cigarettes on the table. “Im not high,” she said through teary eyes, and it looked like she was going to reach for the pack he snatched away from her, but she took his hand instead. 

“Its our anniversary,” 

She pleaded, begging him to hear her or even just stay. He looked away from her, pulling her off of him and throwing the pack of cigarettes into the bin. His back was now facing her, and she looked at him like he was the only thing she missed in the world. She hated how he didn't even look into her eyes for long, or how he never actually spent the night at home. She missed the younger him, and she definitely missed the younger her. 

A quiet while went by after her words, he just stared at the bin, thinking of what to even reply with. “..go to bed,” he muttered after a pause, leaving the kitchen without another word.

The young boy watched as she passed by with her friends, his eyes only on her, it was like she was enchanting him with a spell, maybe she wasn't, but he felt like it. She was beautiful.  And all it took from him to look away from her was a quick glance from her. His eyes fell on the floor, before they darted over to his friend, Jake. 

“Dude,” he whispered, holding in his laugh, which was let out once Sunghoon nudged him with his elbow. Sunghoon didn't dare to look back, leaning against his locker. “How many times have I told you to not laugh so loudly,” he muttered quietly, eyes slightly narrowed. 

Jake shrugged, still looking at the group of girls walking by, “dude she totally wants you,” he said back, ignoring Sunghoon’s comment on his voice's volume. Sunghoon swallowed, his cheeks warming up slightly at the mention of the girl he liked, liking him back. Jake continued “You should just take her with you into those old classrooms and hit–” the boy let out a loud gasp as he looked at his best friend's gaze, eyes wide with shock. Or maybe even pure disbelief.

“What?” Sunghoon asked, a confused look on his face as he looked the boy up and down, trying to figure out if he just pissed his pants, or a rat was in there. “Dude you're totally blushing,” Jake pointed to his face, making Sunghoon frown. 

“What?” Sunghoon repeated, this time more flustered than confused as he tried to deny it, but Jake was already jumping all over the place, rushing to Jay, who’s walked by. “Jay! You wont believe this!!” “jake no, shut up” Sunghoon attempted to grab his hand, but the skinny boy only ended up being pulled towards them.

Jay looked between the two, a skeptical expression on his features “did you actually put viagra into Ms. Kate’s tea?” he muttered, waiting for confirmation as he looked at the two youngins. “No, because this coward forgot them,” Jake shook his head, poking at Sunghoon's head, who just looked away in embarrassment. Not at the fact that he forgot to bring the viagra, he had trouble like that the whole time, but it was in fact because Jake caught his little crush. 

“So this fella here has a crush on that girl from, um” Jake paused, trying to remember her class name, he didn't even know her actual name. He didn't bother paying any attention to the girls’ names in school. 

“Tenth grade second?” Jay asked, looking back at Sunghoon, whose eyes went wide that he knew which class she was in. While Jake frowned, looking between the two. “What? You told him and not me?!” Jake asked, eyes darting back at sunghoon.

“How the hell did you find out?” Sunghoon took a step back in disbelief, ignoring Jake’s looks of confusion. “Dude you stare at her like shit during her football practice.” Jay shrugged, making Jake’s mouth form an “O” shape in understanding. “Is that why he begged me to go out to the fields with him when they had that competition?” Jay burst out laughing, facing away from the two. “Oh my god heeseung’s going to have a field day with this!” he brushed his hair away from his face, making sunghoon shake his head, eyes frantic.

“His sister is in her class, no?” Jake muttered, pulling Sunghoon closer and wrapping his arm around his shoulder. They clearly didn't look suspicious skipping class and making a little circle while they talked in low voices. You would think they were exchanging condoms.

“Nah they got beef,” Jay said, shaking his head, looking towards Sunghoon “i think there’s more to why Heeseung doesn't let you over to his house,” he said, taking a sip of his water bottle, which wasn't actually filled with water, instead with some old beer.

“Yeah that bullshit about how his parents don't like having anyone they don't know over is so clearly a lie.” Jake shrugged, his voice lower as he looked back at Sunghoon. Sunghoon just listened, before he spoke, shaking his head “what does that have to do with..her?” he muttered with a small frown, his hand moving to grab the beer full bottle and taking a sip from it. 

“My theory is that Heeseun’s sister likes you, and she’s beefing with your future girl.” he said, and Jake continued “which means that she actually might like you back. Somehow,” he said the last word in a joking manner, earning a push away from Sunghoon.

“So are you going to hit or not?” Jay asked, a small smirk on his lips, listening as Jake continued “yeah she’s some hot shit man,” "Don't talk about her like that,” Sunghoon muttered, looking away with a small furrow of his eyebrows. “Aww he’s down bad,” Jay teased, earring a coo from Jake, and a groan from sunghoon.

The next time Sunghoon had ran into the girl of his dreams was when she bumped into him during lunch, his juice half spilling over her.

She let out a small gasp, taking a step back and looking at her shirt. The one she had spent all her summer savings on. She looked up at the offender, only to see that he was still staring at her, not a thought in his head. How pathetic of him, he thought, he couldn't even say a simple word to her. 

“You ruined my shirt,” she said, really trying not to sound arrogant or mean, but the boy was just staring at her like a deer caught in headlights. He opened his mouth to move it, only for no words to come out. He really tried.

She swallowed, letting out a sigh before shaking her head, “whatever,” she muttered, walking away, back to her friends’ table.

When Sunghoon took a seat at a small table, he looked at Jay, almost in tears. “I couldn't even apologise to her,” he whispered, looking at the older man with a plain expression. “What, you knocked her up?” Jay said his question was a bit more serious, causing Jake to turn to them.

“Sunghoon knocked a girl up?” He said, a little too loudly, that if anyone was listening closely, they would be able to hear. Sunghoon's eyes widened, looking between the two and shaking his head. “What? No!” He exclaimed, shaking his head and putting the fork that he’d picked up a few seconds ago, back down.

“I bumped into her and I couldn't apologise,” he explained with a hushed tone, watching as Jake nodded his head in understanding. “My bad,” Jay said, taking a bite of his cold pizza. “This is nasty as hell,” he muttered, putting it back down.

“she probably figured it out dude, I heard she was the top of her class,” Jake added, taking a sip of his chocolate milk. Sunghoon let out a groan, covering his face with his hands in embarrassment. “Im so pathetic,” 

“Yeah right,” Jay chuckled, looking around, his eyes falling on the principal walking in with the same teacher they pulled the prank on. “Yo guys,” he muttered, catching the attention of the two as the teachers scanned around. 

“Yeah we should probably go,” Jake whispered a bit louder, grabbing his bag and standing to leave the cafeteria through the second door, the other two mimicking his actions. 

Once they got to a “teacher safe” area, Jay frowned, looking between the two. “How the hell did they find out?” He asked in a hushed whisper, taking out the leftover drug he kept in his bag, he needed to get rid of it.

“You need to get rid of that,” Jake noted, eyes falling on the blue and red coloured box. “Yeah no shit,” Jay retorted back in a whisper, looking around for anything 

to dispose of the pills.

Sunghoon clenched his jaw, hands slightly trembling. “..who even knew except for the three of us?” He mumbled, eyebrows furrowing at the thought of one of the ratting them out. But Jake wouldn't do that, neither would Jay.

“Stuff them in your shoes,” Jay said, taking out the small packs and taking off his shoes, giving some to Jake, and to Sunghoon, who stood there dumbfounded.

“..in our shoes?” “Got a better idea?” Jay muttered, looking straight at Sunghoon and raising an eyebrow, and when the younger one gave no reply, Jay nodded his head. “Right.”

Jake climbed up on the short wall, “we’ll skip tomorrow, they’ll forget about it by next week,” he said, walking and jumping from one wall to another, the other two just behind him. 

When the three were far enough from the school, Sunghoon sat down on a bench, looking at the two. “..Lee Heeseung,” he said, suggesting that Heeseung was the one who told them. Jay looked back at Sunghoon, his expression shifting in realisation. “He was there when we were talking,” Jake said, in disbelief and slight denial that Heeseung would do this to them.

Jay kicked a random rock, shaking his head. “Your dad’s going to tweak if he finds out.” Jay said, still looking at Sunghoon, who clutched his fists at the idea.

“We can't let anyone find out,” Jake said, shaking his head. “They probably already told him,” Sunghoon sighed, eyes on the floor. He didn't regret doing what he did. He never did. What he felt now was anger. At the fact that his supposed “friend” snitched on him and how his dad probably found out, and is preparing to transfer him to another school.

“..we can't just let him be,” Sunghoon shook his head, looking up at Jay, who was already deep in thought. “..we can't, he’s a chaebol, we’ll be dead if we touch him.” “But Sunghoon is too!” Jake retorted, standing with the idea that they should definitely gang up on Heeseung for snitching.

���Jake, me and you have no one backing us up. Be for real.”

“Sunghoon's dad knows us—”

“Sunghoon's dad hates us.” Jay replied, his mouth only slipping out the harsh truth by accident. Sunghoon put his hand on top of his head, looking around, his eyes falling on a girl taking a regular stroll in the park. Lee Heeseung's little sister.

He nudged Jake with his elbow, gesturing for him to look at who he saw, and Jay looked as well, on instinct. Sunghoon's plain expression matched with Jake’s slightly angered ones, but Jay chuckled, standing up. Once the girl passed by them, he stood in front of her, hands in his pockets like she owed him all the money in the world.

“Im surprised Heeseung let you out here, all alone.” He said, watching as the girl, Lee Haerin, looked at whoever was sitting on the bench, eyes stilling on Sunghoon, who looked at her like she was just some white wall.

She let out a sigh, looking at Jay “what do you want?” “Your brother,” Jake said, standing up and also walking towards them, his glare on her more stern than the one on Jay’s.

The girl clutched her bag strap tightly, not knowing how to reply, only for Jake to continue speaking. “Do you know how much dirt I have on Heeseung? I could take away his little dream of taking over his father's company by him going to juvie for life.” He hissed, in a moment of pure rage.

The girl took a step back, caught off guard from Jake's words, the boy who would always acknowledge her when no one else would, not even Sunghoon. “..leave me alone.”  she said, walking past them and avoiding bumping into Jake successfully. 

“Pussy,” Jake muttered, walking back to the bench, letting out sigh in frustration. “She's going to go around saying some bullshit now.” Jay said, walking back towards the two "I don't care,” Jake muttered, shaking his head. 

Sunghoon hadn't gone home that night, opting to stay at Jay’s instead of going home to get yelled at. He stared at the ceiling from a mattress laid out on the floor, his fingers going over the feel of the shirt he borrowed from the older. 

“What if we actually go to juvie?” “for what?” Jay replied to Jake in almost a scoff, not really thinking whatever they did was a crime.

“Possession of drugs without licence,” Jake started listing, sitting up to look at the older. “And reckless endangerment.” He said, putting his pillow on top of his lap, leaning his head against the wall behind him.

“How much time?” Jay asked, a bit more aware that he could go to juvenile, what was even worse was that his 18th birthday was after a few months. “..nine months at most for good behaviour.” Jake replied, catching the attention of Sunghoon. “How do you even know this?” “My dad had all those books about them.”

The next morning, Sunghoon opened the door, which was being knocked on for almost the past thirty minutes. He didn't think about who it would be, and his expression quickly changed when he saw who it was.

“What the hell Sunghoon! They're looking all over the place for you.” The girl hissed in a low voice, the same girl that he’d thought about not being able to see again all night.

He stood there, hair messy and shirt on the verge of hanging off his shoulders. He didn't reply at first, his confused frown deepening, how did she know where Jay lived? He wasn't even able to ask. All he could hear next was her sweet beautiful voice that soothed his ears like honey. Though he couldn't fathom what she was saying.

“Are you even listening to me?” She huffed, clicking her fingers in front of his face. Before he shook his head, moving to the side to let her in. It was cold. 

Her eyes fell on the other two boys on the floor, sleeping deeply, at peace, before she looked back at Sunghoon. “..your dad’s at school, he’s making hell of it,” she said in a whisper this time, watching as he stood still by the door after closing it, not moving a muscle, just staring back at her. 

“..let him be,” Sunghoon finally mustered after a while, shrugging as he took a seat on the couch across from hers. “..the cops are going to get involved, Sunghoon.”

And that's exactly what happened when he and Jay almost beat Lee Heeseung to death. He still fought back stubbornly, landing punches on them and defending himself. But he was overpowered, especially scared at the fact that Jay brought a small knife with him. 

Jake stood watch in the small shadow between the brick walls, and all he could hear for a while was sounds of grunts and hits, before a loud scream. 

Sunghoon let out a scoff, grabbing the nearest brick and shoving it into Heeseung's mouth while he writhed in pain from how Jay pierced his thigh with the knife. And it all seemed alright for the two for a few seconds, till they heard police sirens.

Their eyes had widened, Jake jolting from his place to look at the group hidden in the dark end of the alleyway. Too close. They were too close for any escape method. And all Sunghoon and Jake could do was look at Jay for something to do. What could they do?

What did he do? Looking back at them with eyes that teared slowly, removing the brick from Heeseung's mouth, he looked between the two, hand gripping the knife lightly.

“Go.” 

“What?” 

“I said go. Now,” Jay ushered, pushing them away, he needed them to run. Sunghoon swallowed, the sirens too loud in his ears for him to be able to register anything. “Let’s just go Jongseong,” he shook his head, not realising that Jake had taken his hand, knowing he won't be able to pull away on his own.

“I’ll be alright.” Jay reassured, giving the two a quick hug, though Sunghoon wasn't able to let go. He held onto the older tightly, he didn't want to let go. Jay stood there, unable to do anything as his lips trembled, feeling Jake pull Sunghoon away from him by the waist.

Sunghoon objected, shaking his head and yelling Jay’s name while the other dragged him away, unable to look at the scene. They turned into a closed off alleyway, and while Sunghoon was busy being a crybaby over the older brother figure he had lost, Jake leaned over at a corner of a wall, emptying his stomach. The screams, the blood, the cops, he was scared of all of it. So scared he vomited

They somehow found themselves back at Jay’s cabin, only to find her. Sunghoon wasn't able to say anything, just staring at her with tearshot eyes while Jake clenched his jaw, speaking in a coarse voice. “..the cops will be here soon.” The girl’s expression changed, her long lashes drooping with slight guilt once she was able to figure out what happened.

Jake had returned back to his older brother's house, which was obviously safer than whatever was waiting for Sunghoon back home. It would only get worse.

So she took him back to her house, and snuck him into her room. “.. don't make a lot of sound,” she said, closing the window once he was inside, taking the first aid kit out of her nightstand drawer.

Her eyes fell back on Sunghoon, giving him a small smile before she spoke. “You could get an infection,” she said in a low voice, opening the kit and taking out what was required.

He looked back up at her, eyes tear stained and droopy, from crying. Her face somehow soothed his pain, opting to stare at it instead. 

“.. it's not your fault.” She said, the q-tip in her hand gently grazing the bruise on his forehead. Before he let out a sob. She halted her movements, looking back down at him, only to see that he looked away from her, holding in his cry, soft sniffles filling up the room. 

Her hands slowly made their way to his head, caressing his hair, she felt him lean his forehead on her stomach. He cried on her there, convincing himself that it was his fault, that he never even should have come up with the idea of drugging his teacher's tea.

He’d just lost Jay. The older brother he’d never had. Sure, they would argue a lot and Jay would never pay him back for the money he gave, but the fact that Jay had sacrificed his future for them showed that he cared. Jay was the home Sunghoon went to when his father drank his ass off and started blowing up the whole house. Heck, Sunghoon felt more at home with him than with his parents. 

Maybe it was his parents’ neglect that he’d turned out like this. Or maybe it was that they were so strict with him he’d found life when he befriended Jay and Jake after he went into highschool. Whatever they had done was a terrible job. Whether at controlling his actions, or preventing them.

He’d started spending the nights at the girl's house, he met her parents and the two came up with petty excuses to make him spend the night. He never went back home to his parents anymore. Sure, he’d gotten himself, along with Jake, suspended after Jay convinced the cops the pills weren't his, but he avoided going back to that hell hole.

She offered the comfort he’d always needed, filling up a hole in his heart after a part of it had been ripped away. He loved her. She might have loved him too, that's what she said when they went to the park late at night, playing on swings and laughing.

“..i love you.” She muttered in a low voice, her hand caressing his knuckles, looking at him from under the slide. His eyes widened, his cheeks becoming red now that she’d confessed. He’d wished for times like this.

“..really?” He asked, his eyes wide, filled with hope and looking at her like she was the only star in the universe, like she was the light he’d found when suddenly all the lights in his world were turned off. Like she was his.

“..i love you too.”

But he barely said those words these days. Not even after their marriage. He’d missed their anniversary, hated everyone, and now his wife talked to their baby's ghost.

He laid down next to her on the bed, seeing her sleep peacefully, tear stains running down her cheeks. He needed a drink. That's what he always needed at this time of the day. Except today, he decided to actually stay the night. 

He walked down the creaky stairs, unbothered to even fix them, he didn't care about what went on in this hell of a house now. He saw the way it mocked him, say the way it laughed at him, or his wife, whenever they argued.

He sat down on the dining table after he took out his whiskey bottle, pouring some for himself on a glass, and starting to drink his ass off.

His first glass was alright. He felt like it only made him more aware. He could see how the lights flickered slightly, or how the photo of him and the supposed woman of his dreams on their wedding day. The happiest day of his life.

The second glass started to bite more than it regularly did, he felt closer to cloud nine than he was to the floor, and it made him feel better. He poured another glass.

The third glass made him stare blankly at the edge of the table, eyes stinging with tears he couldn't even register. One more glass wouldn't hurt, right?

Wrong. It hit him like a truck. Like a wasp had stung his heart. Like he was suddenly living the worst nightmare of his teenage years. He was suddenly so much like his father. That glass made him recognise that. 

He sniffed, the tears rolling down his cheeks burning his nose from the inside. Maybe it was from the alcohol, he didn't know. 

He put the glass down, looking down at his ring. He was such a horrible husband. He didn't deserve her. She deserved anyone but him. His younger self wouldn't believe this, but maybe they weren't the perfect match he’d always thought they were.

He knew he married young, that he was already in the beginning of his thirties with a wife of five years. All of this isolation and coldness towards her because she’d lost their kid? She lost it too. It wasn't fair he was mad at her for something they both had lost. Maybe he was mad at himself because whenever they tried again for a kid, it wouldn't work. Or maybe it was because a part of him wished it’d never happen, that they wouldn't have anything else to lose. So that he wouldn't feel what he felt or he wouldn't see the state she was in all over again.

Sunghoon knew he was wrong for shutting her out like that, the way he kept her waiting for him every other night after that incident happened and sleeping on the couch, only for him to come home to go straight to work. He barely slept those days, she slept feeling hated.

He didn't know why he got mad when she shut him out as well. He’d remember the times she used to cry quietly in his embrace because of a small thing, now she cried with cigarettes between her fingers and the door left unlocked. He wanted her to keep trying, to win him back. But he was already a lost cause, she didn't even know what she was trying to win back. His heart knew it loved her, yet his brain hated her, for whatever reason.

The man stood up, his hazy steps making their way up the stairs again, maybe he was drunk, he didn't care. He didn't care if she saw him as well. He knew where she hid those papers. He entered the abandoned nursery room, stopping behind the door once he was inside. Sunghoon looked around, his heart clenching and squeezing itself. He painted this room with her. He set up all the curtains and the play table with her. When he still believed his love days weren't over.

He opened the closet, his eyes falling on the small folder in the back of it, tucked discreetly behind the unused toys. He took it out, hands trembling as he opened it. The shaking either from alcohol, or he was actually nervous. He would get shaky when he doesn't take his cigarettes as well. Divorce papers. A jury signature written on it, with her name at the top. All he needed to do was sign them. She never showed them to him. Not when he came back crying to her that night. Not when he apologised and begged her not to leave on his knees. She thought that maybe she would give him a second chance. And while she still didn't leave, she would think about them everyday. 

Sunghoon took a pen, which he somehow kept,  out of his pocket, hands shakily signing the papers. He did it. He signed them. Were they divorced now? Was he free from the everlasting guilt of not being able to fulfil his duty as a husband? For not being able to feel like she deserved the world? For making he feel like it was her fault? No. It didn't feel like it. Maybe it would haunt him forever, more so with the thoughts that the kids he never had would have hated him as a father.

Maybe it was fate that he didn't have kids. Did he even believe in it? He used to believe that they were fated together for life. But maybe they weren't. Their martial conditions now said otherwise. That fate didn't have their backs and maybe he was wrong in everything.

He would still inherit money even though his job does him good. He would still have available options for marriage, like the woman his mother suggested to him back when he opened up about wanting to get married. Actually no, he wouldn't marry her. He didn't want to marry anyone else. He was a coward and he was afraid that all of this would happen again.

He just hoped that her mental state would get better now that he's leaving. No worrying about having kids or questions that asked about how long they were married. Maybe he’d leave her all his money for her to go to a therapist. She wasn't alright. He knew he was the reason for all of her hurting. He wanted to be the reason that she was alright. That she was okay again.

He stood up again, leaving the room, only to instinctively walk into the one she was sleeping in. He stared at her form. Clad in an old shirt with her hair away from her face. She was still the same from high school. Except now she had dark undereyes, and most of her hair had fallen out. Stressed because of him? It was an understatement. 

“..I'm sorry.” he muttered, though he didn't know if she would be listening or not. His shoulders gave up, he could just feel her pain through the way she clutched onto the blanket tightly. His heart itched for him to go towards her, maybe give her one last kiss before he left, or even rip the papers and sleep in her embrace like a baby. But his body wouldn't. It simply turned around and left the room, walking back down the dreaded staircase. 

He stumbled, leaning on the wall for a moment. It wouldn't stop. The constant nagging, the laughs, the mockery, it was all still there. It was like his brain turned against him. I rejected him in his own body. The pain throbbing in his head was bad. It was like he’d already gotten a hangover, except for the fact that he was still drunk. 

He swallowed back the vomit that was inching up his throat, walking towards the dining table, steps so slow that it looked like he was dreading this moment. He took his ring off of his swollen ring, his hands sweaty, even in this cold house. He didn't want to have a panic attack right here right now. He hated the feeling. He just wanted the sounds to stop. So he placed the ring back on the table, then left without a second glance.

Sunghoon went for a swim that night.

He also appeared in the newspapers the next morning.

[schemmentisimpasours]

Monsters in My Head: Chapter 9 ~ILY

Summary: It is Melissa and your one year anniversary. Things are necessarily right between you to yet but Melissa is tired of waiting for everything to be perfect to tell you what she feels.

Warnings: Small Angst/ Insecurity

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Song: Wish that we'd say it // But scared it will change us// And I// I'll say it first if you do// I-I, I love you

Dear Y/N,

Today is our one-year anniversary. I have been planning this day for weeks. I wanted to be able to wake up next to you and shower you in kisses. I would have recreated our first date night meal, and we would have laughed at our dining room table. We would have fallen into bed together, and I would have shown you all of the ways that I adore you. I would have spent the night tracing the lines of your body that I have memorized as you slept, wrapped in my arms. It didn’t work out that way. Instead, I woke up before my alarm, to you still sleeping over the phone. My bed was cold, but waking up to you for the first time in days is the best one-year anniversary gift I could have asked with all things considered. When you woke up, there was an easy smile on your face when your eyes caught mine. It was like you forgot all about our arguments and what had been going on. It hurt when I saw the switch flip, and you told me you had to hang up to get ready for the day. I could tell that you wanted to say so many things, but instead, you just said that you would see me later. Fuck I miss you and the way you looked at me. Like I was the sun on your darkest days. I don’t know if we are ever going to get back to that point, but it is what I dream about every night. 

I am trying to be positive, and Ouida mentioned that we should work on our communication, so I wanted to tell you about how I felt during our first date. One year ago, I asked you to have dinner with me. It was the first thing in the morning, and you still had that grumpy crinkle in your brow like you always do when you aren’t fully awake. As if you are upset that you had to leave the dreamland behind. I was nervous as hell. Barbara had spent at least twenty minutes talking me through what I should say and how I should ask. I think she was sick of hearing me swoon over you like a love-sick child. I don’t think you could tell, though, because you smiled and nodded immediately. There was a little glimmer in your eye that I had already come to love. I wanted to kiss you right then, but I was trying to take it slow. Learn how to get through your walls without breaking them down like a bull in a china shop. 

When you said that you were free to come over to my house for dinner, I felt like I was walking on clouds. I had cornered Janine to tell me your favorite meal. I wanted this date to be perfect. The monsters in my head were calm for once, so caught up in all that I had to do. It was the first time that I hadn’t felt suffocated by them. Barbara stopped by the house to pick out an outfit for me. I told her it really didn’t matter, but it did. Of course it did. It was you. It was nothing fancy because it felt weird dressing to the nines in my own house. My signature leather pants, black tank top, and black sweatshirt. Simple yet brought out all my damn curves. Barbara said she wanted me to be comfy but sexy. I know it shocked me that she said that too. I kicked her out just in time because moments later, you pulled into the driveway. When I opened the door to you, I was immediately in awe. Oversized burgundy cardigan with loose mom jeans and a black t-shirt. Comfy and casual. It was perfect. 

Dinner was amazing, and our conversation never stopped. Everything always felt easy with you, and when we curled up on the couch to watch a movie, I couldn’t help but pull you next to me. Holding you felt like gluing pieces of me back together. It is the first time that I have felt whole in years. I knew then that I could never let you go. You turned to look at me to ask me what movie to watch next, and I kissed you. I couldn’t wait anymore. My heart was beating so loudly I swore you could hear it. My body was shaking, but then my lips pressed yours, and the world stilled. Absolute quiet. For a person who lives with a raging demon in the back of her head at all times, the silence was… comforting. Like finding a peace that I thought I lost forever. When I pulled back, I pressed my forehead to scared to look at you in case everything I felt was one-sided. 

Instead, you giggled, a short musical one, so then I had to look. You were grinning up at me, and then you pressed another kiss to my lips. Before you left for the night, I asked you to be mine. I didn’t want to wait for more dates to pass by because I knew then, sitting on that couch, I wanted to be with you. For as long as I could have you. This last year with you has been the best year of my life. I hope you know that…I should tell you that when I see you today. I promise you I will. I should have told you before, but I love you Y/N. I love you more than all the stars in the damn sky.

Melissa arrived at school later than usual, her journal entry swallowing a large part of her morning. She rushed to your classroom, where you were already writing on the board. You had that same burgundy cardigan on from your first date, and she wondered if it was intentional. With your back turned, Melissa studied you, trying to build up the courage for everything she had to say. As she glanced at your desk, she smiled when the pictures of her were now back amongst your knick-knacks. Pieces were slowly coming back together. There was hope pulling her further away from the demons in the back of her mind.  

“Your coffee is next to the dolphin,” You smiled, catching Melissa’s attention, “May be a little cold.”

“I am sorry I was a little late getting out of the house this morning. Was writing in my journal to you,” Melissa responded, grabbing for the coffee, “I will take cold coffee from you any day though.”

You laughed, moving to stand on the other side of the desk opposite the redhead, “Remember the cardigan?”

There was a silent plea in your face. You wanted her to remember but were terrified that she had forgotten. Melissa sat on the edge of the desk, pulling you in until you were slotted between her legs. She moved a strand of hair behind your ear, “Of course I remember. You wore it on our first date. One year ago today, when I asked you to go steady with me.”

A snort escaped you as you rolled your eyes, “I still can’t believe that is how you phrased it. So old-fashioned.”

Melissa grinned, “Happy anniversary, baby.” “Happy anniversary Angel,” You closed your eyes as if debating what to say next. 

Melissa was terrified of the worries that would come spilling out, so she cut you off, “I have your gift. I bought it a couple of weeks back, and I was wondering if maybe I could give it to you.”

“I have yours too,” You went to move back, but Melissa wrapped one arm around you and held you close to her, “You have to let me get it.”

Melissa relented, and you moved to your backpack, pulling out a small bag. She reached inside her own purse, a small black box clutched in her palm. You moved back, standing further away than Melissa would have liked, so she curled her fingers through your belt loop, pulling you back in front of her. Giving gifts always made you a little extra self-conscious, and you handed over the bag without looking up from the ground. Melissa pulled away the red tissue paper until a small box revealed itself sitting on top of two tickets. The older woman opened it to a small number-one silver charm. 

“For our one-year anniversary,” You mumbled, twirling your fingers, “I am sorry if it is lame…”

“No! This is amazing,” Melissa reassured you, a smile already on her face, “You have to put it on though. You know the rules. Only you can take off the necklace.”

You shook your head but smiled as you remembered the day you had given Melissa the necklace. You had sealed the lock with a kiss, and Melissa had said that now only you could take it away. She pulled up her hair, and you pulled the clasp to the front, gently pulling the lock. You slid the new charm on until it rested against her baseball bat. You placed the lock back, leaning down to kiss the metal gently. You positioned the necklace back to its original spot, and immediately Melissa fiddled with the charms.

“Just imagine how many are going to be on this one day.”

You nodded in agreement and pushed the bag back towards her, “You still have more.”

Digging inside the bag, Melissa pulled out two tickets to the Philadelphia Eagles v NYC Giants game. She let out a whoop of victory, scanning them over, “You didn’t! These seats are amazing. How did you pull this off?”

“A magician never reveals her secrets,” You grinned.

“You are coming with me, right? I have an old jersey you can wear, and I can tell you all about the game. We are going to have so much fun,” Melissa said excitedly, practically vibrating from joy.

A note of insecurity lipped through your voice, “If you want me to come. If not, you can take Barb or Ava.”

“I want you to come,” Melissa promised, but you could see the pain behind her eyes starting to grow again. The reminder that originally you would have said yes immediately, but a part of you still felt like you didn’t deserve to have access to that part of her world anymore. She pushed this from her mind, grabbing your hand, “There is no one else I would rather take with me, baby.”

“Then I will be there,” You said, attempting to break apart the tension.

“Open your gift now,” Melissa urged, putting the box back in your hands.

You pulled back the lid to a gold necklace. The word Always was written in handwriting that you had to come to know immediately. Melissa had a small blush across her cheeks as your fingers traced the lettering. You extended it out to her.

“You have to put it on. Those are the rules.”

You turned around and pulled up your hair up to expose your neck. Melissa looped the gold chain around you, and you involuntarily shivered. You could feel her hot breath as she leaned in to press a kiss to the lock. She lingered for a moment, kissing the top of your spine and each side of your neck before she pulled away. You were covered in goosebumps when you turned back to the redhead. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself as you caught that look in her eye. A twinkle was there with her pupils blown that any other day would have made you weak in the knees. Making sure the door was locked so that you could run your hand along her bare skin before school began. But this wasn’t any normal day. 

“Please don’t, Mel. Don’t say it. Not like this,” You begged, looking at the other woman backing away from her reach. Tears were filling your eyes, and your heart already ached. You could see the words on her lips, ready to be said. You were so desperate to hear them that you could have crumbled. But you didn't want to hear them like this. When there was still a gaping hole between you both. When you were still afraid that she was going to pick up and leave at any moment, leaving you in shreds.

Melissa just shook her head, “Somebody told me that I have to say what I feel, even when things are not perfect. I know we aren’t perfect right now, but I can’t go another day without saying this. This last year has been the best year of my life, and I love you. I should have told you a million different times. I have loved you for months, and I am still in love with you. I will continue to love you every single day of my life. You are my always. I will continue to work every day to rebuild what I have broken. I love you Y/N, and I am not leaving. Not today…not ever if you let me.”

The words were sweet to your ears, and they melted your heart. You could feel the corner of your mouth start to turn into a smile, but the weight of all of it came crashing down upon you. You were both two broken halves, and the thought of losing her to alcohol again by rushing this was all-consuming. Mostly, you were afraid of ruining it like you always had before. Tears were falling down your face as you went to turn the door handle to leave. 

“You told me you loved me first,” Melissa said, standing up and digging through her purse, “Six days ago on the phone, you told me that you loved me.” 

You stopped, and a watery smile crossed your face, “You remembered.”

Melissa pulled out a folded-up note and handed it to you. As you read the words, she repeated them out loud to you, “She told you that she loved you. She said that it hurt to love a person who was drowning themselves before her very eyes. It hurt to hear how much pain you caused, but she said she loved you. If you get a second chance you can’t fuck it up Melissa. You love that woman. You would marry that woman. Build a life with that woman. Get sober. Stay sober. Earn that love back.”

You handed the note back as the bell rang. Brushing your tears away, you leaned in to kiss the redhead gently on the cheek, “You never lost that love, Mel.”

You didn’t elaborate, just stepped out into the hall where kids were already running to their classrooms. You disappeared into the chaos, and Melissa was left standing, one hand wrapped around her charm necklace and the other one clutching her note. 

Dear Melissa,

It’s our one year anniversary today. It feels… hard to be separated from you. Especially today. I still remember that first date like it was yesterday. I had been so nervous. I hadn’t been on a date since Kylee. But you were so sweet and patient. It didn’t feel scary it felt like coming home. And waking up to you over the phone today broke my heart. I wanted you to hold me. To tell me everything was going to be okay. What have I done? Did I create a crack between us that never should have been? Are you ever going to forgive me for what I have done?  I am sorry Mel, I am trying not to be scared all the time, but I don’t know if I can do it. Please forgive me. I love you. 

-

Taglist

@writerspirit // @casualfoxwitch // @panerasbox // @babytakeittothehead // @milfjuulpod // @yoyo-w // @cupldscntrl // @milfslvr // @liliapleasesteponme // @marvel210 // @derpyavocado // @morgana-larkin // @tsuki-brujita // @senatormellies

[virelaisnox]

kiss the damn nurse

a/n: reader has a name "aruna," but people usually call her "rune" (yeah, like the ancient rome alphabet—magic significance)

summary: Rune, a former nurse turned runaway, met Stanley by chance. They’ve benefited each other ever since—she sells drugs, patches fighters, and keeps quiet. Then there’s his brother, Lion Kaminski—a broken mess wrapped in beautiful skin. Most don’t see him that way. Rune does. He flinches at her touch, but aches for it the moment she pulls away. She always tends to his wounds—no questions, no moves. But something's shifted. His gaze lingers longer. Her hands stay a second too late. And in those shared silences, something deeper begins to take root.

warning (s): not much, really. fluff. slight mentions of sexual activity. mention of drugs?

pairing: Walter "Lion" Kaminski x fem!reader

The gym smells of old sweat and leather, the air heavy with the scent of effort. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting a pale glare over scuffed mats and stained concrete.

“Wait, seriously, do I look like I'm married?” Your voice inquired. He doesn't need to look up at you to notice the smile blooming across your face.

“Yeah, you- you kinda are..” he'd replied, averting your gaze.

“Bu- how? I don’t even got no ring on, yet people keep guessing that i am.”

“Cause like—” he looks up, it took him a lingering second to drink in your presence alone, “look at you. You're glorious, fucking gorgeous, you're beautiful, a true goddess.” He said it like it was a prophecy written on your veins. “Don't need a ring for that—people could tell. I mean, who doesn't wanna wife you up?”

You giggle, not buying his crap, “you're a flirt, Walter.”

“No!” He rushed but then realized how it only did but startled you. He quickly lowered his head and softened his tone. He linked your grasp on him.

“No, I'm dead serious, Rune. Stop denying your own beauty. The only thing that's unattractive about you is that low self-esteem.” A beat lingers. The playfulness once present disappeared into thin air. The room felt like it was closing around you. The moment stretched and felt like it's going to last for eternity, and you hoped so to God.

He winced as you pressed a cotton poured antiseptic once again to the wound across his ribs. The cross tattoo ornating his skin seemed to fade with time and each scars he earned after every fight.

“Stay still.” you warned, feeling his body started to squirm uncomfortably. He glared at you—a look if translated speaks; “are you fucking serious?”

“You realized it's not exactly like a poke to the nose, right?” He asked, unamused.

“Yeah I do. But still. Stay that way.” The firmness in your tone didn't lessen as you've come to the final steps. You pressed a bandage to his wound, tore open a strip of plaster, and stuck it to the cut on his cheek. His gaze fixed on you, watching as you work with gentle but determined hands.

“There.”

He sighed heavily, head hung low, inspecting every bruise and swelling on his body. His unsteady hands with fingers that tremble and twitch, an evidence to long, hard-laboring days in the sewing factory. The corner of his lips tugged upward and formed a lazy smile.

“Thank you.. truly..” He said, sincerely—in his eyes. He looked like he wanted to do more to thank you— to make it up to you in ways far deeper than words could reach.

“Don't mention it.” You said, offering him a moon crescent smile as you bent to press a kiss to the wound along his ribs—then one more softer, to his cheek.

That earned you a flinch and a gasp—his heart skips a beat, then his body goes still, more so than you like when you were tending to his wound.

“You're too good for me.” His breath catching as he felt your lips on his skin.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.. you certainly are.”

“Well, kiss the damn nurse, then!” You said with a chuckle, playful as you tapped your cheek. You almost stumbled when he crashed into you full force, sealing his lips with yours like a promise meant to be.

Your body went rigid. This wasn't even on your list, and therefore, the event took you by surprise. You savored the sensation of his lips against yours, his tongue seeking entry, and it felt as trained as his skilled fist when it delved deep inside.

Your hand gripped the fabric of his shirt while the other settled at the back of his head—pressing him closer. You realized you've grown more greedy—mapping your territory—as your teeth sank into his lower lips, just enough to leave a sting he'd feel later.

He pulled away just enough to give you both a space breathing in each other's oxygen.

“There. I kissed the damn nurse. Now, would the nurse let me thank her further?” he asked, a sly grin spread across his face.

Well, what have you got to lose, right?

"My place."

[khloberry]

❝ A hot neighbor and a dirty little secret. . . ❞

Two Can Have a Secret

Nicholas Chavez x Reader | 18+ SMUT

I have a confession.

The view from my upstairs window lets me see perfectly into my neighbor’s backyard. I’ve always known this, but I never intentionally looked. Well, I never used to look. I’ve been watching him for days now. I guess you could say that it’s become a bit of an obsession. Don’t judge me. At least not yet. You have to know how this happened first. A simple curiosity turned into something more. Something that I never imagined I would be doing, but now seems that I can’t stop. Every night, I keep coming back to the window.

Wondering.

Waiting.

Watching.

It all started for me late one night when I went into the spare bedroom I used as my art studio. After feeling uninspired for weeks, I finally felt like painting again. What I didn’t know was that something was about to stop that from happening. I stepped inside the room and noticed a glow from my neighbor’s yard coming through the window. I could also hear the faint sound of water splashing. I knew that my neighbor Nicholas had gone on vacation, but I didn’t realize that he was back. Curious, I went over to the window to check.

Nicholas and I have been neighbors for a little over a year now. We weren’t exactly friends, but we were friendly and always chatted whenever we saw each other around. He was charming and funny, and did I mention that he was really attractive? Close your eyes and imagine the most handsome face you’ve ever seen. Now imagine a hot body that could be ripped right off the cover of a fitness magazine. That’s Nic. He was the kind of guy that made panties wet without trying. I can’t lie, I’ve always wondered what he was like in bed. I mean, who wouldn’t want to fuck a guy as hot as him? That’s actually where this story gets interesting. Let’s go back to that night…

I looked out the window and saw Nicholas with a cute girl in his pool. I have to admit that it was hard to not stare at the sight of his strong body gliding through the water, but I didn’t intend to keep looking. He was just out for a swim.

Or so I thought.

As they moved over to the pool steps, I thought they were getting out, but what happened was something that I never expected. Just before I turned around to leave, I saw Nicholas taking off his swim trunks. It was dark out, but the pool lights and soft glow of the moonlit sky made it possible for me to see every perfect inch of him. I found myself so mesmerized by the sight that I couldn’t move, think, or do anything but stare. How was I supposed to look away with his dick on display?

I watched as Nicholas sat down while the dark-haired girl stood in front of him. Slowly, his hands moved up her legs to her bikini bottoms and untied the strings at her hips. I watched as they dropped into the water and my heart started to race. I knew what was about to happen, but what was I to do? I knew I couldn’t watch them.

Could I?

She straddled his lap and he wrapped his arms around her, untying her top as they kissed. It got hot and heavy pretty quickly. I’m sure that anyone else would've turned away and chose not to be a creep, but I obviously failed the test on moral standards. Instead of turning away, I sat down on my window bench and secretly watched as she started riding him. I knew I shouldn’t have been watching, but I just couldn’t pull myself away. There was something about seeing my hot neighbor having sex that gave me a thrill.

From the way his hands touched her body to the complete look of satisfaction on his face as she rode him, I felt myself so turned on. I wanted to be in that pool with him and I began to imagine it. How it would feel to have him inside me. How my pussy would grip him, drip for him, take him so good. I couldn’t resist the urge that came over me to touch myself. While one hand came up and massaged my breast, the other slid down into my very wet panties. Was I really doing this? Touching myself while I watched my neighbor have sex? It all felt so wrong, but yet so right.

However conflicted I felt, I didn’t let it stop me. I let my fingers do their work as I watched Nic start to fuck her harder. His hands slid down and gripped her ass, holding her steady as he hammered her little pussy. Oh, he was giving it to her so good. She surely wasn’t going to last much longer. I wasn’t either. The harder he fucked her, the faster my fingers moved, bringing me closer.

And closer.

Until my body exploded in an orgasm so intense it actually shocked me. Who knew that watching my neighbor have sex could make me feel something like that? A desire I never knew existed was awakened. I didn't plan to start watching him, but I knew now that I wasn’t gonna stop.

“Don’t judge me. At least not yet.”

You can judge now.

We all have choices. This is what I chose. I would like to tell you that I realized how wrong I was and felt so guilty about it that I stopped. But this isn’t that story. Things only got more interesting. Let’s continue…

Thoughts of Nicholas occupied my mind every night, and it became routine for me to look out my window. While watching him on one of those nights, I thought I saw him glance up at my window, but I quickly dismissed it. I was careful to keep my room dark so he couldn’t see me. There was no way he knew my secret.

But my suspicions only grew stronger when we ran into each other the following morning. Nicholas was pulling out of his driveway as I was about to start my morning run.

“Hey, neighbor,” he called out from his car.

“Hey, Nic,” I said with a smile as I approached.

Nicholas stopped his car and gave me a smile back. “Going for a run?” he asked as he lowered his eyes to my legs. If I had known I would see him, I would have worn a shorter pair of shorts.

“Yea, gotta stay in shape, you know.”

His eyes wandered over my body again. “Looks like you’re doing a good job at that.”

He wasn’t trying to hide that he was looking. It excited me that he found me as attractive as I found him. I could’ve stripped down to nothing and fucked him right there in his driveway. He started to say something else, but I was so lost in my naughty thoughts that I didn’t hear anything he said and asked him to repeat.

Nicholas chuckled.

Even his laugh was sexy.

God, help me.

“I was saying running's good,” he flashed another smile. “I like swimming too. You ever try that for cardio?”

At his mention of swimming, I felt the small hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I remembered how hard I came watching him in his pool.

I avoided eye contact. “I usually just run.”

“It’s a good full body workout if you wanna switch it up sometimes. You can do a lot in the pool, you know.”

And there it was again. Was mentioning his pool simply a coincidence, or was he fucking with me? The small grin on his face told me it was the latter, but how could he know? I had to be overthinking. He didn’t know.

He couldn’t.

“I’ll have to add it to my routine. Thanks, Nic.” I smiled.

“Happy to help. Have a good run.” He began to drive off and then added. “Oh, and if you ever wanna go for a swim together, you know where I’m at,” he smirked.

With that, he turned and headed down the street. I felt my stomach drop. I had no doubt that he knew my secret. But he was never supposed to find out. How did he find out and what was I gonna do now? Just stop watching him and act like it never happened, right?

If only it were that simple.

Later that night, I returned home after dinner with my friends and began to unwind. After I took a shower and poured a glass of wine, I decided to do some drawing. My sketchbook was usually kept in my nightstand, but it wasn’t there. I realized I must have left it in my art room and went to get it. I can assure you that I wasn’t even thinking about Nicholas until I opened the door and saw that his patio light was on. Isn’t it funny how life can be a big cosmic joke sometimes. I said that I wouldn’t watch him anymore, but now that I knew he was outside, it was nearly impossible to resist.

Just a quick look I told myself.

Nicholas sat reclined on his outdoor couch. He had his phone in one hand while the other slowly stroked himself. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Was he really getting himself off right there on his patio? With the lights on? Didn’t he know that someone might see him? And by someone I meant me.

Once again, I started secretly watching him and felt myself getting hot as his hand moved up and down his length with slow, deliberate strokes. Tonight was a real treat because with the lights on I had an even better view. Before I knew it, my own hand drifted down and began to rub myself through my panties. Do you recall when I mentioned that things became more interesting? Well, here it comes.

Nicholas looked right at my window and smiled.

Startled, I jumped back from the window so fast, I stumbled over something in the darkness and it crashed to the floor. I didn’t bother to check what it was. I didn’t even care. I couldn’t focus on anything but how Nicholas saw me. There was no mistaking it this time.

He knew.

I’m not sure how long I stood frozen before I heard my doorbell ring. Then again. I knew it was Nicholas. And he knew I was here. My heart pounded as I considered my options. I seriously thought about running into my kitchen, sliding open the door, and fleeing. But I knew I couldn’t escape this. Not unless I never left my house again or moved away. I knew I would see Nicholas.

It was inevitable.

Taking a deep breath, I went downstairs to open the door. Nicholas was standing there shirtless and wearing a pair of gym shorts that hung low on his hips. My eyes instantly fell to his perfect v-line abs.

As if I needed another reason to stare.

“Hey, Nic. What brings you over?”

He looked at me amused. “Are you gonna invite me in, or just stand there and act like you weren’t watching me?”

I opened my mouth. No words came out. How was I gonna explain this? Nothing I could say would justify my actions. He probably thought I was a total fucking freak. My heart began to pound again as I stepped aside to let him in.

He walked into my house and immediately went to make himself comfortable on my couch. “So, how long have you been watching? Just tonight?” he asked casually, as if we were talking about watching a Netflix series.

I shook my head.

He flashed a smile and patted the space next to him. “Come tell me about it.”

As I started to sit down, he surprised me by pulling me onto his lap. That’s when I realized I had this all wrong. He wasn’t bothered by this. He was intrigued and perhaps even turned on. Then it hit me that what I saw tonight was intentional. It was no coincidence that he kept the lights on and sat on the couch facing my window. He wanted me to see him.

The voyeur or the exhibitionist?

Who’s really the freak?

“It was the other night,” I confessed. “You were in the pool with a girl. Is she your girlfriend?”

“Just a friend.”

“You fuck all your friends?” I asked without thinking.

Nicholas let out a laugh. “Why? You wanna be my friend?”

“I would like that.” I leaned my back against his chest and his arms welcomed me.

“Yea? Tell me what else you like.” He started to slide his hands over my body, his touch lighting a fire under my skin. “Did you enjoy what you saw?” His hands moved under my shirt and cupped my breasts before softly squeezing. I wasn’t wearing a bra. I wasn’t wearing much of anything actually. I had answered the door in just a tank top and a pair of cheeky panties. It wasn’t intentional, but hey, who was complaining?

“Yes,” l breathed deeply. “It was really hot.”

He kept one hand on my breast, teasing my nipple, while the other eased between my thighs. “Did you touch yourself?”

“Y—yes.” It was becoming harder to speak as I felt his fingertips brush against my panties. The way he talked to me. The way he touched me. The way he was slowly building me up. It was overwhelming in the best way.

“Like this?” His hand slipped under the wet fabric and began to stroke my clit. Pleasure hit me instantly, the feeling almost indescribable. I had fantasized about him for days, and here he was now with his hand in my panties, turning my fantasy into a reality.

“Yea, just like that,” I moaned softly.

The way he was making me feel was just too good. How he circled my clit with just the right amount of pressure. How he massaged my hole, getting his fingers slick with my wetness before he slipped two inside me.

“Fuck. You’re soaked, baby,” he whispered into my ear as he slowly moved in and out of me. “I love that I make you that wet.”

Oh, God.

His words made what his fingers were doing feel incredibly more intense. I felt that familiar feeling building up low in my stomach. It was building so rapidly that I knew I wasn’t gonna last much longer. Not with the way he pumped into me deeper and harder. Not with the way he stroked that exact spot inside me that made all my pleasure double. It felt so good that I didn’t want it to ever end.

“Tell me how hard you came.” His fingers continued their relentless pace, bringing me closer and closer. He had my pussy feeling like a bomb being primed to explode.

“So hard…” I whimpered. “…all over my fingers thinking about you.”

He groaned in approval. “You’re gonna do it for me again, okay.”

It wasn’t an ask.

More of a command.

His fingers fucked me until I couldn’t hold back anymore. It came rapidly and with a force that shook my entire body. I mean I knew it would be good, but damn. It was better than anything I could’ve imagined, and it was just his fingers. Oh, he was good, but I was about to find out that he was even better than that.

In what seemed like no time, my panties were off and Nicholas had me bent over my couch. Now if you have been keeping up this entire time, you already know everything that led to this moment. This is the part of the story that made all of my actions worth it. If I hadn’t looked out the window that night, would this have happened? Let’s finish…

Nicholas pushed inside me from behind, his hands gripping my hips as he filled me inch by inch. I gasped softly and he let out a sharp breath once he was fully inside. I knew it felt as good for him as it did for me. He took things slow at first, but that only gave for a few minutes before he began to fuck me with much less gentleness.

He was gonna ruin me.

No doubt about it.

“You good, baby?” he asked, though it wasn’t a question of concern, just him knowing exactly what he was doing to me.

“So good,” I replied with a breathy moan.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he groaned, keeping up the steady pounding that had me clutching at the couch cushion.

The moans wouldn’t stop coming as I felt him deeper with each thrust. The deeper he went, the better it felt. He was really giving it to me, but being the good little neighbor that I am, I couldn’t just take. I deepened my arch and started to fuck back against him.

“Fuck, that’s it.” His hand came down and slapped my ass.

I gasped.

“You like that, huh?” He slapped it again, this time harder, a satisfied expression on his face as he watched it jiggle.

“I love it.”

“Yea?” He gave it another slap. “Tell me again.”

“I fucking love it,” I moaned out.

He started to move faster, his thrusts growing rougher and deeper as he hit the back walls of my pussy with an unrelenting force that had me crying out his name. My mind went blank as he fucked me senseless. I knew my body was still here in the room with him, but I couldn’t tell you where I had gone. Mars, maybe? Maybe I’d been fucked into a whole new planet.

“Nic, I—” I gasped. “I’m gonna…”

“I know, baby.” His hand reached around and stroked my clit. “Do it.”

And just like that, another shuddering orgasm rocked me. Nicholas didn’t let up a bit. His hands gripped me tighter, his hips slamming against me as he chased his own release. With a few more thrusts, I felt him tense behind me before he let out an incredibly sexy moan.

What a fucking night.

About an hour later, we were showered and in my kitchen making a homemade pizza. I know, mind blowing sex and pizza, I was a lucky girl. Don’t be jealous. Maybe you will get a hot neighbor too.

As I sat on the bar stool watching him add the pepperoni to our pizza, I had one burning question.

“What?” Nicholas asked as he noticed me staring.

“How’d you know?”

He smirked. “It’s a secret, baby.”

Tags ♡: @oliviaambs @hoeforanakin @aisforarii @torikitten @iamsebastiansstan @fiftyshadeschavez @exqorcism @chavezwifeyy @lalavenderangel

[sqrclouds]

pretend i’m her.  ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

pairing. hirota riki x reader

synopsis. maki’s girlfriend cheats on him, and you want his company.

wc. .6k

warnings. cheating. reader is lowkey selfish. not edited. mention of sex.

guys this is so shit but i wanted to make sure you all got something from me! please please give me your feedback as i don’t want to put works out there that no one likes lol.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

it was hard falling in love with your best friend.

maki had been dating his girlfriend for almost a year when his whole world shattered. she cheated on him. it was like the entire world just crashed down on him as he found out she had been cheating on him since the second month of their relationship. he had one thing consistent in his life:

you. he never knew that you were in love with him, but almost everyone around you both could tell. you’d loved him for years. 

he knocks at your apartment door looking absolutely terrible. his face is puffy and red from sobbing; he was wrecked. his head was hanging low with his hands in his pockets. he doesn’t even smile when you open the door to greet him.

he sniffles as you let him in, “she cheated on me” he chokes out. you can only pull him onto you as he cries into the fabric of your shirt. your heart breaks a little, you want to scream at him that you would never do that to him, that you would love him like no one ever could. but you stay silent. like you always do.

“i’m so sorry, maki” you genuinely say. “i should’ve known. it’s my fault for being a bad boyfriend. i should’ve bought her more, i should’ve kissed her-“ you cut him off. you can’t bear to hear the rest, “no, no. it’s her fault. you’re everything. you were the perfect boyfriend” you attempt to smile. “but i love her! she was my everything! can’t you see?” he cries even harder, frustrated. 

he looks up from where to lay into your eyes and you make the worst possible mistake: you kissed him. it was a light peck on the lips, but enough to show your affection. he looks at you with a surprised expression, he doesn’t know why you did that and you wish you could explain to him. “i’m so sorry, i…” you trail off, afraid of what you could come up with to defend yourself. he clears his throat, “it’s okay”

you know it’s not okay and you wish you could take it all back. he’s become distant over the next few days, there’s a certain tension that lies whenever you speak to each other. nevertheless, he’s at your door again.

it’s late at night and you’re laying in bed in your pajamas when you get the text that he’s outside. immediately, you cover yourself up with a sweatshirt and open the door to him. you can tell he’s still miserable, but you know you shouldn’t act before he does. he moves to hug you ever so lightly, keeping his distance to move away from you when he wanted. it wasn’t your usual hug, but the surge of happiness you got from just his hands around your body could make you melt.

“why’d you kiss me?” he whispers like he’s afraid to bring it up. honestly, you were too. “i got caught up in the moment” you admit. he sighs lightly and speaks with an unbiased tone, “do you have feelings for me?”. you could feel your heart stop for a second, and you take an extra moment to respond. “i do, i love you”, tears fill your eyes. you have so much remorse and the raw emotion swallows you.

after an awkward silence, he kisses you. it wasn’t genuine and you knew it, but you couldn’t help yourself from letting the unspoken words transfer to him when you kissed him back. “just, pretend i’m her. please” you beg pathetically. you knew you weren’t in the right state of mind for this but you couldn’t help it in the moment. 

so he did. he pretended you were her and he kissed you, made love to you like he did with her. it almost felt real at times, like your own delusion was consuming you. possibly he did love you, or maybe he couldn’t shake the feeling of her. but it didn’t matter to you. mentally it was her, physically it was you. and that was enough.

[riteliso]

S01E09

I've decided I'm gonna do a separate thread for each season btw because scrolling to the bottom of this is killing me and I'm sure there's a better way but I DONT KNOW HOW TO DO IT

And if you've only seen she-ra a couple times you might be surprised that this isn't the second season! Last episode ended with an impressively gutteral cliffhanger but that wasn't to end our season, it was because we're in the TRENCHES of that GOOD SHIT now

Heartbreaking: watch this disaster lesbian learn about life under capitalism

Another Kyle death (the burn/cut gets infected leading to a botched amputation and complications with allergies to the anaesthetics)

look they're all pedantic teens and this isn't the time to argue but why WOULDN'T she make perfuma the perfume bottle c'mon

Worth pointing out they do the better version of this trope where the plan leads into the action so you understand what's going on in real time vs the worse version where they completely lay out the plan and then you see 75% of said plan go exactly as described just straight up wasting time

I complain about her sometimes but she's a trooper when the cards are down

The ipad baby has evolved into a leash adult

Does she know

As in like no, actually, does she already know or does it take her until later to figure it out

This is why she's a good character even if I would hate her if I met her

She bends, but doesn't break. She's consistent. She believes the garbage she spouts and acts accordingly.

I think that there's too many superficial characters out there, because superficial characters are just-- uninteresting. Who gives a fuck about an astrology girl if she's only in it for the aesthetics and the water cooler talk? Yes, superficial people EXIST in real life, and there's PLENTY OF THEM, but with writing you can choose what you want to focus on freely. There's no reason for superficial characters to exist in a story, really, in my opinion because what is there to say about them?

That superficial people suck and they're boring?

I don't need to read or watch something to come to that conclusion.

Taking character archetypes like popular girl, hippie, valley girl, etc. that are usually associated with superficiality and giving them a grounded nature and reasons why they ARE the way they are is infinitely more interesting and enjoyable. It also gives you way more to WORK WITH and ENJOY.

They're good character foils for each-other. Mostly in this direction, but still.

She's the kind of autistic girl who dies at 28 because she got rabies trying to pet a raccoon because she just felt like it was friendly

"You're lying!"

"Nah no I'm not. Idiot. Fuck you."

Here's your thing back he likes being saved

It's like it's impossible not to be mean to him

You've got just about the kindest person within this universe talking to Kyle and he's still like "I'd really rather be in any other circumstance if I'm honest."

I mean, find the lie

She really did kinda ditch everyone the second she figured out she could be destined for something else.

At least she gave a HALF-HEARTED attempt not to ditch Catra, but still.

ALSO SHOULDA MENTIONED IT AT THE END OF PRINCESS PROM BUT WHERE ADORA IS HOLDING ONTO CATRA AND SAYING SHE WON'T LET GO BEFORE CATRA WRESTLES OUT OF HER GRIP AND FALLS IS THE BEGINNING OF A RUNNING THEME BETWEEN THE TWO WHERE ADORA PROVIDES SPORADIC AND OCCASIONAL OLIVE BRANCHES BUT CATRA IS TOO HURT AND VITRIOLIC TO ACCEPT THEM

We get another in this season I'll talk about it more there. I think that moment where they stare at each-other right before they fall might be where they realize they love each-other in a way where they wanna kiss. I really dunno. There's so much in princess prom that I'm finding more shit to talk about the next damn day but let's continue this episode.

I feel like ANY OTHER SHOW I've ever seen when there's a character like this I hear people marching down the streets chanting "JUSTICE FOR KYLE" but in this show nobody cares and I can't decide if that's funny or sad

In an alternate world we have the dual perspective where the parallels are between Adora deserting and leaving Catra and Kyle leaving and deserting Rogelio

ALRIGHT SO

Here's how we're doing things, right? We're gonna go one episode at a time, and I'm gonna give my thoughts whenever they come up. This is a train of thought type beat, alright? Unlike my usual grandstanding authorial and analytical self, this re-watch is purely for the rant factor. If you don't know me, and you just happened upon this thread because you like reading she-ra rewatches, hello. I'm a writer from Canada who found she-ra in 2025 and is currently on her sixth watch through. From that, hopefully you can discern that I like this show, even if I'm likely gonna criticize parts of it. We good to go? Good. We start with S01 E01.

RIGHT, THE SWORD PART 1! A zoom in, with an angelic singing being drowned out by digital bloopy fright zone vibes, and then Adora being a fuckin dweeb as her leitmotif plays in a decidedly crystiline synth-y tone.

Now, what do we learn from this? This, aside from one gripe I'll have more to speak on later, is an excellent introduction. With the music alone we're essentially taken from the beauty of the planet, the overwhelming dread of the fright zone, and then into a hopeful tune that isn't FREE from these sort of digital themes in the music, but is very defined and separate FROM them.

This isn't gonna be one of those things where I praise literally every single fuckin thing so keep your panties on, I'm not gonna full-on overanalyzing avatar this shit, but the most important parts of a story are the beginning and the ending.

Now, when I say that, I am speaking pragmatically. Every part of every story is important-- but when it comes to what people remember, what they love, what they never shut up about-- it's the start and the end. You need to nail the take-off and the landing, people will forget the turbulence from the rest of the trip.

Now, what does THIS bitch's intro tell us about her? Well, a lot, honestly. Most of what we know about Adora at this point is she plays by the rules, but she is a notably goofy person. She's goofy, but she's unwilling to goof-OFF too much.

And while we get a taste of the rivalry they have instantly, with "That's low, even for you." "You know nothing's too low for me~"

We instantly see that that is not the CORE of their relationship.

I'd like to praise the voice direction in this show for the first of many times here. The voice actors do amazing work in this, and the direction can be felt throughout.

"Come on, you look stupid hanging there" can obviously be a seen as a strange first line to show the warmth these two share, but the inflection from Catra's voice actor, AJ Mikalcha, makes it read as downright sweet.

Also don't get used to me using names of the crew besides ND Stevenson because I'm so awful with names I was still calling Catra Katara half the time on my second re-watch and I was like 90% of the way to realizing I kinned her at that point

Also don't make fun of me for kinning Catra there's no RESPONSE to people making fun of you for kinning Catra THAT DOESN'T MAKE YOU SEEM MORE LIKE FUCKING CATRA OKAY

Anyway, the following scene makes it clear that this is not a one-way dynamic. The two banter, and it's clear Adora knows how to get under Catra's skin and annoy her as well. This is notable in a few places MUCH further on, but it is a difference worth highlighting NOW.

Once Adora leaves, Catra's primary goal is still to get under her skin. She's angry about it, she's mean about it, but she's still just doing what she's always done. The relationship between the two doesn't actually change as much as the context does. I'd say the relationship itself doesn't change much until the final season, at a scene I'm sure I'll have a lot to say about.

On the flip-side, Adora's goal when it comes to Catra is simply to fight her off. But that's not all there is. At points, it's clear that Adora holds some sort of REVERENCE for Catra, and while Catra is very capable of very mean things, don't get me wrong, Adora sees Catra as more of a threat than she realistically is.

At a few moments I'll point out she also relishes in getting under Catra's skin, but admittedly those are few and far between.

People have gone over this introduction billions of times, so I won't BORE you to death with it, but Shadow weaver's introduction does hint at a lot of what we'll learn later. I think it's very notable that while Shadow weaver brings a dark gloom that encompasses both our leads, her vile tendrils only dare to touch Catra. We learn the specifics of the dynamic these three have later, but it is a very unique and terrible situation to be the least favourite of an abusive guardian. Especially if you are repeatedly reminded of that fact.

I'm not gonna go over all the body language shit I've seen other text posts about it there's plenty of them a lot of focus in this show goes into tiny details where characters are constantly reacting to the world around them, and very rarely do we get lame stretches where anyone's face is just frozen and unflinching while they listen to someone else.

with all due respect to the setting at this point in time the bright moon rebellion is so pathetically anemic it's the two teens, some movie night lesbians, an immortal princess queen, and a bunch of fucking trees.

And you'd think the one carrying the team would be THE IMMORTAL PRINCESS QUEEN, BUT NO, ITS THE FUCKING TREES DOING ALL THE GOD DAMNED WORK

This introduction is fine. I don't particularly like it, nor have any strong feelings about it. It establishes the relationship between glimmer and her mother, but besides that it doesn't honestly do much. And don't come at me with "Uh, all it needs to do is establish that relationship?" Yeah, no shit, but we just had a better introduction to our other lead characters. And yes, those are the MAIN leads, the sort of heart of the show, but that doesn't mean that the other characters are unimportant. Glimmer's development later on is truly interesting, and Bow becomes a massively inspiring character. Fun jokey times are fine or whatever to show that they're immature and don't know the first thing about war, in contrast to our full-blown child soldiers raised from birth in the fright zone, but we really don't learn anything particularly INTERESTING about our best friend squad compadres in their intro, nor do we really see any of it until episode 2, to be frank.

This is something we don't actually see much of-- Catra has this ideal of being a conqueror, but it's very clear that she doesn't want that. Her threats are vapid and aimless-- She can enjoy some chaos, sure, but a shit-stirrer isn't gonna use that feces to build brick shithouses that they never intend to fall.

I think this should have been elaborated on more, personally. Catra is comically terrible with authority, and her plan, as stated later, is to wait it out until her and Adora are the ones calling the shots. But we don't really see what she thinks conquering even looks like, and it's not clear whether that's that she hasn't even imagined it and just likes evil words, or if she genuinely wants to rule with Adora as her Queen.

I gravitate towards the first, but that's partially because I wake up and post shit like "I want to destroy the world and rule its dust" and then forget I posted it when someone likes it 5 minutes later. If she do, in fact, as studies point toward, "be just like me fr," then I fully understand. If not, then I'd like to understand.

aw :(

Fuckin dweeb pulling the "my mom doesn't want me hanging out with you anymore" card

HA! Ah, what a bitch. Anyway, she's lashing out, but it's also quite tragic. A lot of people seem to think Adora IS, in some way, a people pleaser, but in reality she just has such an ingrained and violent sense of justice that she wants to right every wrong she has ever and will ever come across. She believes her validity is tied to what she can provide to the world, and she's got a natural sense of charisma, so it's natural for someone who refuses to blend in and naturally tends to put people off like Catra to have this view of her.

In reality, Adora is just-- a good person. And people LIKE good people. She's not a good person with an asterisk-- a good person with terms and conditions-- someone who falls into the definition of a good person while feeling and being treated like something else. Catra is the "a tomato is a fruit" of good people. Adora is just, like, a 1 dollar costco hotdog of a woman. An inarguable good treading water on this earth, no matter how hard it tries to pull her under.

Imagine falling for a brat with mad hops, like a fucking 50 foot vertical, you say you're too tired to play their favourite board game and they go hang out on your neighbour's roof, couldn't be me. Get fucked I guess

Yeah this is sad. Empathy is very much a learned skill, and people who don't learn empathy don't GET happy FOR people. Catra's not a complete person yet. She's not ready to be. That doesn't happen for a really long time, during an exceptionally long manic spiral. We'll get there, calm down, don't think about how far away that is and how much I've already yammered on.

Anyway, if you find yourself getting jealous or annoyed instead of getting happy for people, consider empathy isn't what you thought it was, and that you might still need to work on yourself.

fucking porno framing. Immensely sexual image, really. These bitches violently gay I suppose, I think I'm picking up on that during this sixth re-watch.

Buddy you got no idea how many problems those two already have you literally lose your little tiara at some point I think it ends up in the middle of a tree in space or something it's kinda unclear

Adora elbows her square in the nose during this so to everyone accusing Catra of physical abuse I just want it to be clear that Adora started it :/

Actually I'd like to retract that joke immediately because I know how people get about these two

My feelings are that they are literally child soldiers who were likely raised sparring each-other.

I was raised sparring other children and I ended up fine! Not for war, for Karate. And I didn't end up fine. And neither did they. Anyway, my point isn't even specifically that because this is sci-fi fantasy it's ridiculous to hold real life standards to it, it's more-so that because it's sci-fi fantasy there's extenuating circumstances that are going to affect how these two characters treat each-other. I'll go into hotter takes later, I'm sure, and get people to send me plenty of death-threats, but I'm gonna go into the nuances of exactly what forms Catra's abuse takes, and how it differs given by the separate circumstances we're shown the two in throughout the show.

my girl when I'm tryna live my best life playing as blue toad in mario 3d world

also holy shit we're only like halfway through this I am an AGONIZING yapper jesus fuck

Okay, what to say about lighthope-- well, their first words are "balance must be restored," far before they say Adora's name, so it somewhat lays out their secret priorities for us there. Besides that, I dunno, they got circuits on them? I don't have particularly strong feelings about lighthope, nor their introduction. I think they serve the setting and are written well, I just subjectively am not a sucker for the way they be. Their friendship with Mara is cute tho

I was gonna point out this is cute and how often I do this exact brat tactic but instead we data moshin, nothin wrong with a little data moshin, I'm down

This is the only reason she even wears a ponytail I'd stake my fuckin life on it

Once she leaves the fright zone that thing's fucking vestigial like a tailbone or having "any pronouns" in your bio when it's pretty clear you're very much a "she/they" type of bitch by now

glimmer why don't your windows have glass

or alternatively

how the fuck do you open and close that window

you can absolutely fucking hear her from this distance what on earth are you trying to pull

you a pillow princess tho how many of those arrows are just hitatchi magic wands attatched to a stick with duct-tape after the series ends do you think

The fuck you mean BOTTOM drawer we lookin at left and right here

or is this similar to my pillow princess comment and she's just addressing him and giving him an order

"Bottom; drawer."

It's established later on that he's a tech wiz but at this point in time they don't really give us much to lead us to the fact that he made that fucking thing

she's a freak

yes it's very sweet that she sleeps this way but I don't think it's some bdsm powerplay thing or anything like that, which would honestly be more tolerable, I think she's just like that

like how the way I'd sit in high school was to get two chairs and face them toward each-other then sit cross-legged across both

even if there weren't enough chairs to go around

people would sit on the FLOOR because I wanted to sit criss-cross-applesauce across two chairs, they wouldn't even ask for one of my chairs

also since I was sitting, again, cross-legged, it would have made more sense for ME to sit on the floor

I mean I think I got asked ONCE for one of the chairs and I just said "fine" but besides that people just let me sit on my fuckin throne

She really is kinda dumb, though. Like I ain't complaining, it's a character trait, but like obviously even if just you get in trouble Catra's gonna get blamed, you've seen it like at least once a month for your whole entire life

Mind you, can't really have Catra for the next part, because Catra's reaction to Bow and Glimmer wouldn't be "just let me have the sword" it'd be murder

oh wow we hit the image limit looks like we're doing TWO SEPARATE POSTS FOR THE VERY FIRST EPISODE YEE-HAW!!!!! THIS IS GOING TO TAKE ME FUCKING FOREVER

[adore-gregor]

😓

[monicaalexandraaa]

I am over the MOON about this😍😍🩷🩷

The Lottery - Extra II

Read The Lottery here | ~2.8k words

From me: there is some passage of time that is not particularly marked. I think it will be pretty straight forward but this is not all in one sitting

Warnings: SEXTRA there is not an ounce of plot to this. it's all sex and nothing else. minors, dni

Summary: Harry has made her so many pancakes that she tastes like maple syrup.

It was no secret that Harry was a quiet, grumpy man. His mum was his hero, and suddenly she was just gone. It did an absolute number on his mental health. It hurt him immensely. It made him believe he’d never be in love. Never smile again. He wanted to leave that town and the diner behind. But if he did, it felt like he would be forgetting her. Which would never happen. But Gemma and Louis left, and he felt so lonely.

That was until the peachy girl he loved and adored so much sat at his counter and flipped his world around. Was worship the right word? He wasn’t quite sure. It felt like it. Harry wasn’t overly religious, but he would pay tribute to whatever god was out there for her.

The way she yawned had him weak in the knees. If she sniffled, he swore mountains moved. Her laugh? He was putty to her. Maybe that was a bit dramatic. But he was in love with her; and love was dramatic, wasn’t it? The moon rose and set with her—forget the sun and day he didn’t need it. He lived for the night and the quietness of his time with the angel that ate pancakes that ruined his ratios and stared at the moon in the middle of the night.

Worshipping her came in all forms. Making sure she ate breakfast, of course. One peach and one white chocolate chip pancake. Or her half omelets. Or maybe just a muffin. Sometimes it was fixing her pipes at home so she could take a hot shower. It was assuring her car was maintained. Decorating the bookshop each season and stocking the shelves with new arrivals as she saw fit. It was coming home to find her baking in his apartment or eating pizza on her couch.

But his favorite way to worship her was to make her come.

The need to make her feel good, a fraction, of how good she made him feel daily. That’s all he wanted. All she deserved.

“Harry,” she whimpered. He woke her up with his head between her legs. He was impossibly hard and all he wanted was the sound of her voice moaning his name while she finished on his tongue. She tasted sweet. He thought she was practically half maple syrup, so he wasn’t too surprised. “Harry, I’m sensitive,” she cried as he continued licking her swollen clit after he lewdly and loudly sucked and licked her clean of her orgasm.

“Mm, one more. Please, Peach? Want you t’feel good.”

“I feel too good.”

He chuckled softly against her core, but her fingers held his hair and didn’t pull him away from her, so he continued licking her until she finished.

Harry had a small shower in his apartment behind the diner. It was a great place to press the front of her body against the glass and fuck her into the enclosure. He had the pleasure of seeing her body steamy and obscured in the mirror over the sink across from the shower. He pressed his lips to the curve of her shoulder as he slid into her from behind. “It’s too hot,” she moaned.

Harry all but slammed the knob behind him to ice cold. She was right; it was hot as hell in that tiny steamy bathroom. Pumping his dick into her wasn’t helping with the heat, even if the glass against her nipples was ten degrees colder. But the last thing he wanted was for her to pass out, especially before she finished. “I got you,” he promised, the contact of his hips slapping against her gorgeous ass each time he pumped into her made his heart race faster. She was so good. Carefully, she lifted her foot to the corner of the shower and the angle practically caused for fireworks. She whimpered instantly making Harry grunt or growl like a Neanderthal. “So good, kitten. Feel so good, y’want t’come?” He asked gripping her hips and pressing her harder into the glass with each thrust.

Her moans increased and volume and the last thing Harry wanted was the entire diner knowing he was making her come this hard in the middle of the day. “Please,” she cried. “It feels so good, I’m,” her voice literally broke and Harry reached in front of her with one hand to cover her mouth while the other held her hip steady.

“Shh, baby. We don’t want the whole town t’know how good it feels. S’jus’ for us, yeah? Jus’ you and me get t’know how good y’make me feel,” he groaned quietly in her ear. “Y’feel so good, Peach. S’like heaven. Such a pretty pussy wrapped around me, yeah?” He pressed another kiss to her shoulder hoping he wouldn’t make any of the noises he just asked her not to make. “Y’like this, kitten? Like being pressed against the glass? Gonna watch yourself come, hmm?”

“Harry,” she whispered against his hand.

It was insane that her quiet, grumpy, sweet, sexy boyfriend was capable of speaking such filthy things. The Harry that brought her coffee across the square and put up Christmas lights on her house was kind, reserved, and not this absolute sex god filling her up with more dick than she ever imagined he could have.

“So pretty when y’come, Peach. S’like m’favorite show. Captivating.”

“God, fuck,” she whimpered. “Please,” she begged. “It’s too much.”

But the arch of her back and the way she met his thrusts by pushing back toward him as he thrusted forward said differently. “Beautiful, baby,” he said dreamily. He removed his hand from her mouth and slid it down the front of her body to press the pad of his finger onto her clit making her whimper again and come around him with a gasp. He continued fucking her through the pleasure, admiring the way her whole body shook, catching the way her mouth popped open in the reflection of the mirror. “Stunning, really.”

It had been such a long time since Harry felt the kind of lust and love that she brought out of him. All he wanted was to have her wrapped around his cock. The first time he saw her walk into the diner he was overcome with how beautiful she was. He was lucky he was in the back of the kitchen, so he had a moment to control the rush of blood to his groin before introducing himself. With her routine of visiting each morning after that he could practically predict when he needed to steel himself for how stunning she’d look so he wouldn’t be sporting a hard-on in front of the whole town every time she entered the room.

But now that they kissed, loved, and fucked, it was next to impossible to keep his dick from hardening at the mere thought of her.

In the privacy of her house, they could hardly make it up to her bedroom and instead opted for fucking on her couch (or the stairs). Harry had her straddling his lap, his cock buried inside of her as she bounced arching backwards, so her hands rested on his knees. Her pretty nipples peaked and hardened, begging to be sucked while she fucked herself on his dick. “Beautiful, so beautiful,” he moaned steadying her hips with his hands while he wrapped his lips around her nipples aching for attention.

Harry had a hard time thinking about tomorrow after his mum was gone. He couldn't think about any kind of romance, let alone sex.

But her pretty being was enough to turn it all back on. All he wanted was to stay home, ruin his bed sheets, and make her come so many times. “Feels so good,” she whimpered.

“Mm,” he hummed. “Come for me, Peach. Please,” he begged and buried his face in her chest as she did.

A small moan ripped through her. Her walls pulsing around him, hard, fluttering as her bounces became less rhythmic as she tried to maintain her balance. Her legs were aching, her breathing ragged, and a thin layer of sweat coated her soft skin. “Fucking beautiful,” he whispered to himself as he watched her ride out her orgasm. Harry held her hips to hold her steady.

It was a wonder she wasn’t sore. Harry couldn’t keep his hands off her, not that she minded. The orgasms felt good all around. She swore she felt smarter. Her skin looked softer. Her cardio improved and even though Harry never made her want, she couldn’t get enough. She throbbed at the sight of him. Her romance novels didn't compare to the ache between her legs.

If he smiled, she was done for. She practically licked her lips in anticipation thinking about how good it felt to have him inside her.

When Harry worried about her being too sore, he fucked her slowly with his finger. Just his middle finger pressing inside her while his thumb ran small and slow circles on her aching clit. “Too much?” he asked. It was almost clinical in nature. The way he knelt on the bed by her waist, gazing at his finger disappearing and reappearing between her legs.

She shook her head. It wasn’t enough but also very perfect. It felt like heaven. “Can I add another?” He watched in awe as her body writhed for more attention from his hand.

“Yes, please, please, please,” she begged.

He did so, adding his ring finger to the mix and she felt so full and warm. Harry was so fucking good at this it seemed cruel he never let anyone else in during the time that she had known him. But she was selfishly grateful that he never did. She didn’t want anyone to share the knowledge about how good he was. Plus, she would have been irrationally jealous now knowing he was making someone come like this in the past.

After what must have been at least two maybe three orgasms, they laid on his bed silently. His fingers trailed up and down the length of her arm. Her head on his shoulder.

“You never wanted to date all the time I’ve lived here?” She asked.

“I mean... I met you,” he shrugged. “Didn’t think it was worth it.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She frowned.

“M’quite grumpy,” he smirked as he reminded her of practically the very first thing she ever thought of him. “Y’were all smiles and positivity,” he shrugged. “Didn’t want t’bring you down.”

“So, you just... haven’t had sex all this time? And you’re still that good at it?” She wondered.

He shrugged again with a smirk. “I had a good bit of meaningless sex while I was at university,” he admitted which she was right to assume she would be irrationally jealous about something in the past. At least she didn’t know who the women were. She could be blissfully unaware of his history as she intended to be. “When I was grieving my mum, I didn’t want t’do anything. Relationship-wise or sexually. I barely wanted t’get out of bed,” he explained. “I was jus’ so sad,” he repeated. “I didn’t think I would feel anything ever again.”

The idea made her frown deepen. Poor Harry. It was clear he felt a lot. She imagined the apathetic diner owner forced into ownership in order to keep his mom alive. Reliving her every move and step wishing to turn back time and just feeling completely trapped. Of course he couldn’t hold a relationship together. He could hardly hold himself together. “I would never want to rush your grieving process, but I wish you had told me you were going to ruin sex for me with anyone else. I would have waited forever for you.”

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “I don’t fault you for that,” he assured her. “Don’t get me wrong, m’very possessive of you now. M’gonna turn into a caveman if someone so much as looks at you,” he promised making her giggle. “But y’deserved t’be taken care of in whatever capacity y’found in the men y’dated.”

“Well, none of them could make me come like you do.”

 He sighed with a smile, satisfied in a way that wasn’t a mind-blowing orgasm. “Good,” he said smugly. It was quiet for a few moments again, his lips against her temple, his fingers circling her wrist. “Kitten?” He hummed.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t leave me, yeah? People I love always leave me. M’tired of being left and I know s’not fair t’ask you that, but I feel... I feel really safe asking you. Like you’ll know what I mean when I say it. M’not saying it t’be dramatic or anything. Jus’... yeah.”

Her heart nearly broke but immediately fluttered. “God, where would I go, Harry? I get all the orgasms and pancakes I want,” he smiled, shook his head and kissed her temple again. “Harry you’ll have to drag me out of this town kicking and screaming to get me to leave you. You’re gonna have to drag me to get me out of this bed, honestly.”

“I love you, Peach,” he smiled that gorgeous smile that was all hers. Because of her.

“I love you, too,” she wiggled up higher to reach his mouth. The only time she would ever willingly take his smile away was so she could kiss his pretty pink lips.

He pulled her tighter to him, his arms winding around her so he could pull her on top of him. He moaned softly with the weight of her fitting comfortably against him. His hands stayed on the back of her thighs, her legs falling to either side of his hips. Gently, she rocked herself against him, his cock already hardening against her core. Harry watched the moon charm on her necklace dangle and sway back and forth in front of him. It was the most tantalizing movie he could have watched. “Y’ready already, Peach?” He mumbled against her lips. She nodded. “So good, kitten,” he groaned. “Gonna make me come jus’ from this.”

She felt her entire body heat up. She loved making Harry overwhelmed by her. She was always overwhelmed by him and if she made him come from just rubbing herself against him then good. He always made her feel loved and safe he deserved to feel a fraction of how she felt. “You feel so good,” she whimpered.

“Fuck, Peach,” he moaned. “Keep going,” he begged.

“Like this?” She whispered.

“Jus’ like that,” he nodded breathlessly and brought her mouth down to his. His lips fit so effortlessly between hers, his tongue licking into her mouth, tasting her tongue the same way he licked into her to make her come. “Gonna make me come,” he warned. She grinded at the same pace and pressure as she had been but swiveled her hips into a circle as she did against his dick. “Ah fuck, Peach,” he groaned. His boxers turned wet and sticky, against her legs and they clung to her own underwear as she rubbed against him through his orgasm. He twitched at the sensitivity and gently pulled her from his hips. He kissed her again and again. Like every time he thought about not kissing her seemed like too much.

“S’your turn,” he ordered.

“I don’t need—”

“I don’t care. Come up here.”

“Punny.”

“Peach, sit on m’face and be quiet unless you’re going t’scream m’name.”

Harry wasn’t particularly scary when he made those threats but it was enough to make her wetter as she scooted her way up over his head. “Are you sure? I just came a minute—”

He yanked her hips down right as her pussy passed by his mouth. He sucked her clit and twirled his tongue over it making her gasp. She put her hands on the wall for support, but it was practically useless. Nothing could offer her enough support to keep her steady. Harry’s hands gripped her butt, fingers pressing into her. He moaned against her, dropping his mouth from her clit and focusing on the aching hole that hadn’t had his dick inside it for no more than a day and it seemed entirely too long.

“Taste so good,” he grunted against her.

“Harry,” she cried. “It’s sensitive,” it was the same thing she whimpered time and time again when he was insistent on making her come multiple times in the same round.

“Mm, I know, Peach. Can feel y’soaking m’face,” he smiled—smiled—against her core. Lapping at her like a popsicle on a hot day. “Better come quick,” he suggested. “You’re gorgeous,” he groaned. “Swollen, soaked, aching for me, hmm?” He asked. “Wanna be good for me and come?”

Without much more prompting she did exactly that. She ground her hips against his mouth the same way she did against his dick. She moaned as he wrapped his arms around her legs holding her suctioned to his face while she rode out her orgasm on his lips. He held her there even after she relaxed, her legs absolutely shaking against his ears while he licked her clean of her arousal.

“Peach,” he sighed softly. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” she grinned and flopped onto the bed. “Can you make me some pancakes now?” She asked, closing her eyes. Harry kissed the back of her head.

“Always,” he promised. “For the rest of our lives.”

-- general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

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I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[szatears]

just a lil' something, smoke.

summary: no matter how hard he tries to reject your advances, smoke always gives in. after all, you know his body like no other.

pairing: smoke x reader, platonic stack x reader.

warnings: use of the n word, allusions to sex, making out.

notes: first time writing in a couple months !!! literally had no plot with this one i just went straight off the bag lmao. also this isn't proofread at all!

It wasn't uncommon for you to find your way to his arms. Usually it would all be under his control; he'd call on you, he'd tell you what to do and you'd happily oblige. It went on like that for some time.

Only, you never got used to Smoke's hard exterior.

You thought that with time, you'd be able to read him better, but it seems it only become more difficult as time went on.

You and Smoke had been messing around for some time now, ever since he first laid eyes on you at a neighbourhood event he and his brother were "just passing by". But when he and Stack left for Chicago, all that went away.

You didn't expect the invite to the twins' new juke joint to find you, but there you were at the train station with Pearline when Stack found you.

"I ain't seen you in hot minute," he grabbed at your hand and twirled you towards him, ever the flirt. Your light pink sundress spun with you, frilly and light with air.

"Alright, Stack, let me go," you laughed, pushing at his chest. You turned around to check on Pearline, seeing her smiling at the twins' cousin, Preacher Boy. "What brings you back? Chicago too hard for you?"

"Girl, ain't nothing too hard for us," Stack waved you off, kissing his teeth. "We jus' wanted something a lil' more... familiar."

You rolled your eyes at him, whatever that meant.

"Say, we're having us an opening party tonight. Smoke and I got ourselves a new joint," a smirk graced Stack's face as you held a more quizzical look.

"Oh really? And whose pockets did you pick to get that new joint?"

"You want an invite or not, 'cause the way you goin', you gon' get blacklisted before it even open," he tilted his head to look down at you, his hat shadowing his face a bit.

"Alright, alright," you laughed. "I'll be there."

"Damn right," he smiled. "Imma tell Smoke too, that nigga sure could loosen up a bit."

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes at the mention of his brothers' name, whom you haven't seen since the night he told you he was leaving for Chicago, more like the night you found out rather than got told.

*

It was around 10pm when you got to the joint, the sound of music and laughter drawing you in. You couldn't lie to yourselves, the boys had outdone themselves on this one. Cornbread was at the door when you arrived, a smile on his face as you walked closer.

"Well, if it ain't lil' missy herself!" He laughed aloud.

"Hey Cornbread," you smiled, wiping away a curl from your face.

"Go on in, Stack an 'em expecting you."

By 'them' you assumed he meant Preacher Boy, who was with Stack when he extended the invite to you.

Walking in, the smell of food hit you straight away. The lights shone on everyone, illuminating faces and figures, some that you knew, some you didn't. Your eyes were looking for a certain someone's, never seeming to find them.

"I knew you'd come," you heard Stack before you even saw him. He swung his arm over your shoulder, a drink in the same hand. "You look good."

"You don't clean up too bad yourself," you patted his chest, a bright smile on your face.

He smiled back at you, gold caps glinting when they caught the light. "Aight, let's get you a drink, hm?"

He didn't give you tike to respond, walking you towards the bae section of the joint. You saw Annie behind the counter and a few others behind her.

"Hey Annie," you greeted her with a civil smile, to which she returned. Things between you and Annie weren't the best, but they weren't bad either. You knew better than to blame Smoke's personality towards you on the other woman in his life, especially because she'd been with him longer than you had.

You pulled out a few crumpled notes from your bra, but before they could even hit the counter, Stack had snatched them.

"Man, get that pocket change outta here," he said, pointing the cash back at you.

"Huh— I'm buying myself a drink, Stack, give it back." You huffed when he held it away from you again.

"It's on the house," he nodded at Annie, who grabbed a cup and filled it, handing it back to you.

"I thought y'all ain't do charity?" you laughed, accepting the drink nevertheless.

"It's a special night, and plus, you one of the few I like," he kissed your cheek, leaving as quickly as he found you, not before he stuck your cash under the strap of your dress on your shoulder.

You shook your head, moving through the crowd with your drink, smiling back at those who greeted you.

You found yourself a little corner to watch the stage and everyone else, leaning against the thick wood as you let the drink flow through your body. As you tipped your head back to drink more, your eyes caught his.

Of course, he was upstairs, watching over everyone else. His eyes stared right back at you as he took a drag of his cigarette, the smoke he exhaled wafting through the joint. You didn't break the eye contact, staring back at him as you drank from your cup.

It felt like you were staring at each other for ages, but seconds later he tipped his head to the side, gesturing for you to come up. Then he disappeared into a room.

Your breath hitched, your hand taking to your collarbone to ease the burn of the alcohol. You didn't know what to expect, things with Smoke were almost always unpredictable.

Regardless, you put the cup down and made your way slowly up the stairs to where you last saw him, adjusting the silky navy blue dress that you wore as you went.

The music was quieter upstairs, slightly muffled by the foundations and thickness of the room's doors.

You stood outside the room before knocking twice on the door, opening it shortly after.

His back greeted you, toned arms begging to be relieved from the slightest tightness of his shirt and waistcoat. He still had the cigarette, though when he turned to you, you knew it was only a matter of time before he ashed it.

You didn't say anything, leaning on the back of the door as you watch him.

He studied you for a bit, and that's when you really saw him for the first time in what felt like forever. His chiseled face, sculpted with time and effort. Those eyes that never seemed to soften, only at times when you got him loose enough to let go, just for a bit.

"Whatchu doin' here?" He said, startling you from your thoughts. You didn't expect that to be the first thing he said to you, but then again this was Smoke, he didn't care what he said to who.

"You told me to come up here, didn't you?" you smiled back sweetly, enjoying the feeling you got when you got under his skin.

"Stop sassing," he mumbled, ashing the cigarette at the end of the wooden desk.

He took a seat on the same desk, folding his arms across his chest.

"How you been, then? Didn't hear much from you these past days," you couldn't care less about how he was, and he knew that. You just wanted the truth and the honest truth.

He didn't answer you right away, simply allowed himself to eye you up and down. The way the dress hugger you perfectly, the navy blue on your melanin skin, the way it was cut low on your chest to expose just a little cleavage... he was enjoying it. Almost like it was just for him.

"You ain't got no where better to be?" He changed the topic again, much to your annoyance.

You let out a bitter scoff, already regretting following Smoke into the room. "You told me to meet you in here. Don't act like you didn't, Smoke," you kissed your teeth.

One thing about Smoke, he didn't do attitudes, regardless of whether or not he deserved it.

"Come here," he spoke to you softly, which should've alerted you if anything. Instead, you allowed your legs to take you to him standing right in front of his taller figure.

His hands rested on your waist, pulling you into him. Now, you stood between his legs as his eyes stared into yours.

"Why'd you leave, Smoke?"

He sighed but didn't act surprised, like he knew this was where the conversation would go. Your hands made their way to his broad shoulders, massaging gently.

"You already know why I had to go, business don't wait for no one."

You huffed at his answer, pulling back as much as you could whilst still in his hold.

"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it."

"What else you want me to say?"

You look at him then, really looked at him. "I want the truth. Why'd you leave me? When you was just saying all that stuff about wanting to be better for me an' all... It makes no sense."

Smoke looked away from you when you said that, but you still felt his fingers dragging up and down your waist, almost like he was making sure you were real, that you were still in his hold.

When a few moments of more silence passed, you pushed away from him, ready to go back down and pretend none of this even happened.

But Smoke didn't let you. He turned you back around in his hold, your chest against his back. His head dipped down to your bare neck, kissing along. His beard tickled, but you found yourself too busy almost melting into him to register it.

"You scare me sometimes," he mumbled, so quiet you almost missed it.

"What?" you whispered, eyes fluttering closed. "When was you scared of anything?"

"You're too... good. I'on know how to handle that." He was speaking honestly now, and it made sense why he turned you away from him to say this. Smoke never shower any vulnerability. You thought he was immune to it but it turns out he just never wanted anyone to see that side of him.

"Smoke..." you trailed off when he began to suck and bite at your neck, eliciting the faintest of moans from your lips. You pressed back into him, needing to feel more.

"I had to leave. Not because of you but you know I ain't good for you... I'on know why you can't understand that." He brought his left hand to your throat, tipping your head back into his shoulder as he spoke. Your eyes closed, suppressing the lewd sounds threatening to escape. He was barely touching you yet already had you like this? Insane.

"I don't care about that, Smoke." You managed to get out.

"Yeah, well you should." The way he said it sounded almost like a laugh. "You don't make no sense, baby."

He was right. Smoke wasn't the type of guy that a lady should keep chasing if she knew he didn't have what she wanted. Yet you, you kept trying. And that's what confused him.

He did everything to throw you off of him — use you when it pleased him, shut you out, literally everything he could think of. But it seemed to only make things between you stronger.

You forced yourself out of his grip and turned around, now looking him right in the eyes. He could see how hot and flustered he got you.

"I do make sense. I always tell you what I want, it's you who acts like he don't know what he wants." Your hands caressed his face bringing his forehead to rest on yours.

Smoke closed his eyes, his hands cupping your ass as he held you against him. He shook his head, seemingly about to say something before he pulled away.

"Stop," you frowned. "Stop forcing yourself away from me."

"I have to," he grunted, looking anywhere but at you.

Still, you pulled his face back to your, making him look back at you.

"You know you want to," you whispered, dropping a hand from his face and down to his pants, stroking over his clothes bulge. Smoke groaned lowly, throwing his head back. "Give me a lil' something, huh, baby?" you asked sweetly. How could he deny that?

He brought his hand back to your neck, pulling you in til your lips touched his. You moaned almost immediately, it had been way too long.

Smoke kissed you like he would never get the chance to do it again, pulling you impossibly closer to him whilst one of your hands held the nape of his neck, the other still palming him.

He lowly moaned into your mouth when you pulled away slowly, biting his lip. You left him do what he did best, take control.

He turned you around, lifting you up to sit on the desk, his hands roaming all over your body. "You're something else," he whispered against your lips as you fumbled at the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt.

"Yeah, you love it, don't you?"

You felt him smile against your lips, just ever so slightly. If anything, that told you he wasn't ready to let you go. Not just yet. And that was enough for now.

He broke away from your lips to kiss along your neck, your head thrown back in pleasure as your legs wrapped around his body. "Smoke..." you whispered.

"Yeah, baby?" he kissed along your jaw, your hand wrapped around his throat as you pulled him closer to your face.

"I always get what I want."

[sleepy-little-stars]

andy speaks: a very self-indulgent fic 😞 as a humanities girlie, I just rlly want my silly nerdy stem bf ☹️ hot nerdy stem bf pls pls pls come my way 🙏 zayne will have his version of this too!! bcuz muehehe why have one stem bf when u can have two. TWO?! 😻 n poseidon raf is in the drafts 🙂‍↕️

stem bf!caleb who’s such a nerd trapped in a hot guy’s body, it drives you insane. he could be standing in front of you looking all hot with that pilot uniform of his but the moment he opens his mouth? you just wanna jump him there and then. 

“how much do you love me?” caleb hums in response to your question. he has his arms around you, swaying the both of you ever so slightly from side to side. 

“honestly? like about 9.8 meters per second squared. in other words, gravity is pulling me towards you.” he grins before leaning in to kiss your cheek. 

“could’ve just said you love me to the moon and back.”

“flowery words are your thing, sweets. not mine.”

stem!bf caleb who invites you for a date night at his dorm.

you show up with snacks and a list of movies you want to watch with him, such as barbie because you are going to sit him down and explain how barbie is one of the best movies of the century and the message it conveys to women and little girls around the world— wait.. why is he surrounded with legos?

“what’s with the legos?” 

“it’s not just legos, pip. it’s the 7,500 pieces millenium falcon. come on, help me with it.” he pulled you down beside him on the carpet, your legs deposited on top of his lap and an arm enclosing you to his chest.

“so, you invited me here to make me do labor.” you grumbled seemingly annoyed yet the hand reaching out for the building manual says otherwise. caleb merely chuckles at your faux demise, pecking your temple. “don’t worry. we can watch barbie as we build. and.. we’ll do a powerpoint night tomorrow. deal?”

“deal.” and so you spent the entire night wrestling with tiny building blocks to help complete his beloved spaceship. 

stem bf!caleb who keeps every paper plane you give him. when unfolded, the paper is filled with your words of love dedicated to him. 

stem!bf caleb who is your very own human calculator. you always bring him with you during grocery runs so you can easily keep track of the total as you shop. 

“caleb, add this.”

“bread is $2.49.. your current total is now $11.27.”

“thanks, babe. now, let’s go get chips.”

stem!bf caleb who watches all your favorite films or shows in his free times. he remembers all the times you mentioned them in passing. 

“since when did you watch girl, interrupted?” 

“last night. you were talking about it the other day and i didn’t really know how to respond so i watched it. now, tell me all about lisa again. her character was really something— ah!” he got cut off by you throwing your arms around him and peppering his face with kisses.

stem bf! caleb who yaps about science theories during cuddle time. your head is on his chest, his arms tight around you.

“time slows down when the gravity increases. that’s what you call gravitational time dilation. like, imagine you’re on top of a very high mountain. time would pass faster for you than for someone at sea level because the gravity is weaker the farther you are from the center— babe?” caleb looks down, lips quirked upon seeing you dozed off. he pinches your nose, earning a sleepy whine from you. “stop.” 

“you promised to listen to me talk. are you breaking promises now, pip?” caleb leans closer to bite at your cheek, grinning widely when you push his face away. “i’ll let you yap later. nap comes first.”

“is that a promise?” 

“yes.”

“okay. i love you.”

“.. love you too.” 

“good night.”

“hm.”

“you know, einstein’s theory of relativity—” 

“sleep, caleb.” 

[missdynamighttt]

↳ ❝ FAT ASS LIKE HERS NEEDS A REAL MAN TO FUCK IT. ❞

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ synopsis: in which, you get tangled up with your boyfriend's arrogant, infuriating, and devastatingly hot rival, katsuki bakugou and ended up fucking... one too many times.

starring: pro hero! katsuki bakugou x enemy's girlfriend! reader ⍣ ೋ

disclaimers!: cheating on yo shindo, cheating with katsuki bakugo, body worship, implied mentions of anal sex, oral sex (f! receiving, face riding), manhandling, penetrative / p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie

note: usage of "sweetheart", "pretty", "pretty girl", "sweets", fem reader, implied plus size! reader, mean! katsuki, katsuki calls reader fat but not really (specifically, reader's ass), (hopefully) promoting body positivity. really thought this song gave katsuki vibes and havent seen a fic based off of it yet. reminds me of that montoya guy watching his girl fuck someone on camera lmao😭. time to give back to my community, hope you guys enjoy💜

╰┈➤ [katsuki bakugo was an asshole.] everyone knew that. and when it came to shindo yo, he was even worse. the two had never gotten along—never would. 

which was exactly why, when katsuki walked into the bar and spotted you, nursing a drink, frustration etched across your face, he couldn’t help but smirk.

it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. probably your boyfriend getting a little too damn close to another "friend" again. just like always. this wasn’t the first time, and knowing him, it wouldn’t be the last.

this was the kind of moment he lived for, a rare opportunity to get under shindo’s skin. sure, maybe katsuki didn’t hate shindo that much, but you? you were a different story.

he sauntered over, leaning an arm against the counter, eyes never leaving you. "rough night?"

you glanced up, instantly recognizing the pro hero standing beside you. with a sigh, you swirled your drink in its glass. “you could say that.”

“lemme guess... your idiot boyfriend givin’ you trouble again?”

“…something like that.”

“don’t know why you put up with him, honestly," he chuckled, the sound low and knowing. he tipped his drink toward you, watching your reaction carefully. "you deserve better than some asshole who doesn’t know how to appreciate you.”

your lips quirked, a mix of amusement and exasperation. “and you think you can appreciate me?”

katsuki had no shame, never did. so he grinned, a flicker of something dangerous in his crimson gaze.

"want me to show you, sweetheart?"

one thing led to another and soon enough— you were in his bed, limbs tangled, gasping his name, making sure you see the stars in the sky as he fucked the frustration right out of you.

and after that night, fucking you became katsuki's favorite way to piss shindo off.

you weren’t stupid. you knew exactly what this was. but did you care? not one damn bit. he had you in his bed more than your shitty boyfriend ever did. and yeah, maybe it started as a way to get under shindo’s skin, but somewhere along the way, it became something neither of you wanted to stop.

because katsuki? he was fucking obsessed with you.  

some nights, he’d pull you into his lap, hands splayed over your hips as he buried his face in your neck, pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses to your skin.

“fuck, i missed you,” he groaned, voice thick with something dangerously close to vulnerability. his grip tighten, fingers digging into the softness of your thighs. “shouldn’t let you leave my bed, y’know that?”

you chuckled, tilting your head back as his lips trailed lower. “you’re never satisfied, huh?”

“so what?” he nipped at your skin, making you squeak. “i like my woman soft. more of you for me to grab.”

and grab he did. he was clingy in the worst way—always needing to have a hand on you, whether it was squeezing your ass, gripping your waist, or just absentmindedly tracing patterns on your thigh while you laid in bed together.

katsuki just loved how you felt in his hands.

then there are the nights when he'd lie with his head on your lap, letting you comb your fingers through his hair, one arm thrown lazily over his chest.

his eyes were shut, his expression relaxed, but every so often, his brows furrowed as he grumbled about his day.

like now.

“dumbass intern nearly blew up my whole damn office,” he muttered, eyes closed. “and kirishima kept laughin’ like it was the funniest shit he’d ever seen.”

you hummed, dragging your nails lightly over his scalp. “i mean… you do blow things up all the time. bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

his eyes cracked open, leveling you with a glare. “tch. ain’t funny.”

you bit back a smile. “a little funny.”

he exhaled sharply through his nose but didn’t argue. he never really did when you played with his hair. it was his weakness, and he hated that you knew it.

your fingers trailed down to his jaw, tracing the sharp edge. he leaned into your touch instinctively, like it was second nature. and maybe it was.

“you’re really pretty, you know that?” you murmured.

his eyes flickered open again, red irises locking onto yours. there was something unreadable in his gaze—something so raw and vulnerable.

“oi,” he muttered, shifting slightly, ears turning pink. “quit it.”

you grinned. “quit what?”

“saying dumb shit like that.”

“but it’s true.”

katsuki scowled, but the way he pressed his cheek into your palm gave him away. he huffed, eyes slipping shut again.

“…whatever.”

and he loved it. the times he's spent with you, whether he was fucking you or just talking about each other's day, he loved all of it. not just because it was a middle finger to shindo, but because katsuki got to have you all to himself. 

honestly? it stopped being about shindo a long time ago. but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t rub it in the bastard’s face.

"she was beggin’ me to keep goin’ last night," katsuki bragged, arm slung lazily around your waist, knowing full well that shindō was fuming. his hand drifted lower, fingers trailing over the curve of your ass. “bet you don’t even know how to handle all this ass, huh? shame. guess that’s why she keeps crawlin’ back to me.”

shindo clenched his jaw, knowing exactly what katsuki was implying. he knew. knew there was truth in katsuki’s words. knew that every time he and you argued, you’d disappear for a while, only to return looking a little too satisfied. "you really think you're some upgrade?"  

"she does. especially when she’s whining my name into the sheets.”  

"shut the fuck up, bakugo."  

katsuki barked a laugh, shameless and sharp. he was pissed, good. that was the reaction he wanted. but he wasn’t done yet.

“she’s a greedy lil’ thing, too. always wantin’ more," he grinned, eyes flicking over to him before locking back at yours. "but look at her. how could i say no? she looks so fuckin’ perfect under me."

your face burns, heat creeping up your neck before he scoffs and turns back to grilling your ex, like you weren’t just standing there, completely flustered.

"did she ever tell you how much she loves it when i grab these—" his fingers trailed down your side, giving a firm squeeze and earning a small yelp from you. "—and i slam my dick into her? fuck her real nice and deep? moans so pretty for me, too. you ever heard it?"

and if shindo so much as opened his mouth, katsuki would throw in another dig.

"nah. probably not. bet she asked you if it was in yet.”  

"well, she's all yours," shindo said, fists clenching, clearly seconds away from punching him. and katsuki lived for it.  

"yeah, figured you’d say that," katsuki taunted. "she’s been stress eatin’ too much to deal with a weak-ass like you."  

and then, just because he was an absolute bastard, he'd go in for the kill.

"fat ass like hers needs a real man to fuck it."  

shindo looked about ready to swing, but you pulled katsuki away before things got too messy.  you could still feel the heat of shindo’s rage burning through the air. it thrilled you more than it should have. 

but behind closed doors? the same man who ran his mouth would spend hours pressed against you, whispering things he’d never admit to anyone else.

"c’mere," katsuki grumbled, tugging you onto the bed after another long day of antagonizing your ex. his arms wrapped around your waist, face immediately pressing into your soft stomach.

he worshipped you—every inch, every soft curve, but nothing captivated him more than your stomach.

he was obsessed, utterly entranced. he’d bury his face against it, his hands kneaded your sides, gripping, squeezing—memorizing, pressing lazy kisses to every dip and curve. he held your body with a reverence that bordered on possessive, like he was terrified you’d slip away.

"fuck, baby," he groaned, nuzzling into you like he wanted to disappear into your skin. “love your body so goddamn much. s’perfect.”

you chuckled, threading your fingers through his hair. "thought you said i was stress-eating."  

"yeah, stress-eatin’ on my dick," he muttered, pressing kisses against your tummy. "he doesn’t deserve to see you like this. doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you."

“then why do you still do it, hmm?”

he looked up at you, red eyes dark with something almost desperate as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses along your stomach.

"tch, you know why i do that. pisses him off. makes him realize he ain't shit. ‘cause he ain't."  

you shivered at the heat of his lips against your skin, biting back a smile as you run your fingers through his hair. so that’s what this was about. "you sure you’re not just obsessed with him at this point?”

he scoffed against your stomach, his grip on your waist tightening. “the hell i am. only thing i’m obsessed with is you.”

it was the side of him no one else got to see— the way he nuzzled into you, the way he pressed his lips to your skin over and over, like he couldn’t get enough. he'd grumble if you tried to move, holding you tighter to keep you in bed, murmuring "stay here. wanna hold ya."  

he loved how soft you were, how warm—how no matter how much he grabbed, squeezed, or traced his fingers over you, it was never enough. he needed you. it was like he was drunk on the feel of you, the scent of you. and truthfully, he was.

"love this shit,” he admitted lowly, voice thick with something almost vulnerable. he nuzzled into your tummy again, letting out a deep, satisfied sigh. "could live here."

you raised a brow, fighting back a grin as you looked down at him. “oh? you wanna live on my stomach now?”

“yes, baby,” he muttered almost desperately, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction while pressing another lingering kiss to your skin. “soft. warm. smells like you.”

you laughed, dragging your fingers through his hair. “so what, you’re gonna quit being a hero and move in here?”

he let out a gruff chuckle, turning his head to rest his cheek against you. “tch. would if i could. wouldn’t need a bed, a couch, nothin’. just this perfect spot.”

“oh yeah?” you hummed, tilting your head. “should i start charging you rent?”

he huffed against your skin. “tch. smartass.”

you giggled, brushing a thumb over the shell of his ear. “i mean, if you’re gonna move in, might as well contribute. utilities, groceries… maybe even a tummy tax.”

his red eyes flicked up at you, narrowing. “the fuck is a tummy tax?”

you grinned. “unlimited kisses. daily.”

he snorts, pressing another slow, open-mouthed kiss to your skin. “already payin’ for that, pretty."

and you laughed, because for all his big talk, katsuki bakugo adored you. as long as he had you, nothing else mattered.

and despite the way he ran his mouth, he never let you feel insecure. if he ever caught you looking at yourself too long in the mirror, he’d grab you and pull you onto the bed, hovering over you with that intense, fiery gaze.  

"the fuck are you thinkin’ about?" he’d demand, hands gripping your thighs, squeezing, leaving marks. "you’re mine. this body? all mine. and i fuckin’ love every inch of you. don’t ever fuckin’ doubt how much i want you."

and god, did he prove it.

he didn't just tolerate your body—he adored it. and thats why you found yourself looking down at him lying comfortably on his back, eyes dark with anticipation. he was waiting—no, expecting—you to sit on his face.

you shake your head, heat creeping up your neck. "i can just lay down, 'suki..."

katsuki scoffs, sitting up slightly, his hands already reaching for your thighs, clearly impatient. "tch. and deny me a great view? cut the crap and get up here, sweets."

you shake your head again. "i just- what if i’m too heavy?"

he lets out a sharp, exasperated scoff. "for who? me? well that’s rude."

"it’s not..." you hesitate for half a second, but that’s all the time he gives you. 

he yanks you down onto his face with a low growl, his mouth immediately sealing over your cunt. "stop stallin’ and just give me what i want..."

you hesitate, subtly hovering just above him instead of lowering yourself onto his face, holding onto the headboard for support. his eyes flick up to yours, and the second he realizes what you're doing, his expression darkens.

"the fuck do you think you’re doin’?" his grip on your thighs tightens, his voice a low, dangerous growl. 

“i don’t want to crush you—”

“are you fuckin’ serious?” his voice drips with pure offense, like you just insulted his entire existence. "you really think i can't handle you? think you're doin’ me a favor by holdin’ back?"

you try to protest, but he’s already yanking you down on his face, forcing you to sit properly. his growl vibrates against you as he buries his face between your thighs. the way he looked up at you—pissed off and starving—sent a shiver down your spine.

your face burned, heart pounding in your chest. "i just— i don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

katsuki let out a sharp laugh, the sound vibrating against your folds, lifting you by your hips to give him room to speak from time to time. 

"uncomfortable? sweetheart, the only thing makin’ me uncomfortable right now is you not sittin’ on my goddamn face like i told you to."

your lips parted in protest, but a startled moan escapes you as his tongue flicks over your clit, sharp and demanding. his grip on your thighs is punishing, locking you in place as he devours you with obscene hunger.

"katsuki—" you try to lift yourself, but his hands hold you firm.

"nah. shut up," he murmurs burying his tongue between your thighs without warning. a moan escapes you as he groans against your heat, his fingers digging into your skin to hold you firmly in place. 

"fuckin’ ridiculous," he mutters between licks, voice muffled. "ain’t takin’ this disrespect. you ain't doin’ me no favors by holdin’ back. told ya before— i want you—every fuckin’ inch of you." 

your breath hitches, and katsuki smirks like he knows he’s got you. his crimson eyes flicked up at you, glinting with mischief as he devoured the fuck out of your pretty little cunt, tongue glazed with his spit and your slick. 

"so don't you ever pull that hoverin’ shit again,” he warns, his tongue licking a broad stripe through your folds "or i swear to god, i'll make you sit here all fuckin' night—"

his words were cut off by the way he devoured you, lips and tongue working so hungrily that your legs nearly gave out then and there. his crimson eyes burned into you, daring you to try that shit again.

you whimper, thighs trembling, and he doubles down, tongue curling inside you before dragging back up to your clit, sucking just to hear you whine.

"fuck, baby," he groans against you, his voice thick with need. "taste so fuckin’ good."

your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging on the soft strands, but it only spurs him on. his hands slide to your ass, forcing you to take everything he gave you. he’s lost in it, completely drowning in you, and he likes it. loves it. wants more. 

"you drive me fuckin’ insane," he murmured, sucking your clit into his mouth with a filthy slurp. "you’re too damn perfect, and it pisses me off."  

your fingers tightened around the headboard, thighs trembling around his head. “how is that my fault? you're the one who—"

katsuki let out a frustrated growl against your cunt, cutting you off before you could finish. without warning, he flattened his tongue and dragged a slow, deliberate lick through your folds, making you gasp.

"its your fucking fault," he went on like he couldn’t believe you had the audacity to act so damn innocent.

his lips brush against your pussy as your legs threatened to close around his head, but his grip was firm, keeping you spread open for him. "prancin’ around, bein’ so goddamn pretty. takin’ up space in my head. gettin’ under my fuckin' skin and you expect me to act normal?"

you tried to answer, but he didn’t give you the chance. a sharp suck on your clit had your head tipping back, a needy whine escaping before you could stop it. his tongue slid through your folds again, swirling around your clit, and the sudden sensation made you choke on your words.

"katsuki—"

"nah. told you to shut up." he cut you off, voice muffled against your dripping cunt. "if you're gonna talk, you can fuckin’ moan."

your noises only spurred him on. your fingers found their way into his hair, gripping tightly as pleasure pooled in your stomach. his tongue worked you over with precision, switching between sucking and licking until your hips were rolling into his face, chasing more. 

"that's it," he muttered, sucking your clit into his mouth again, hard, and the moan that tore from your throat was anything but coherent, fucking you with his tongue. "you wanna run your mouth? do it like this." 

you could barely form a response, your mind going blank as he sucked hard on your clit, his tongue relentless. the only thing that left your lips was a desperate, broken moan.

"fuckin' knew it," he groaned, his voice sending another wave of heat through your body. "knew you’d sound so fuckin' pretty when you just shut the fuck up while riding my face. could watch you like this all fuckin’ day."

you let out a shaky breath, barely able to focus as his tongue flicked over your clit again. katsuki pulled back just enough to suck in a breath, his lips slick and glistening with your arousal. his crimson eyes burned into you, half-lidded and desperate, but still sharp with command.

“fuck,” he groaned, voice thick with hunger. “touch yourself, pretty girl. play with those pretty tits for me.”

your breath caught in your throat, and you hesitated, already feeling overwhelmed by the way he was devouring you. but his grip tightened on your thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh in warning.

“c’mon, sweets,” he rasped, his tongue flicking out to tease your clit before pulling back again. his eyes dragged up your body, the heat in them making you dizzy. “be a good girl and gimme a show, yeah?"

with trembling hands, you reached up, cupping your tits, teasing your own nipples the way you knew he liked. you kneaded them softly at first, rolling your thumbs over your nipples, but the second you pinched them, katsuki groaned, his eyes locked onto you like you were the only thing in existence.

“fuck yeah,” he muttered, running his tongue through your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth again. “just like that, baby. play with those tits— keep puttin’ on a show for me while i eat this pretty little pussy.”

his tongue worked you over with hungry, unrelenting strokes, the obscene slurps and groans vibrating against you as he devoured you like a man starved.

you tugged at your nipples, your head falling back as pleasure rippled through you. your breath hitched, your fingers tightening around your nipples as the combination of your own hands on your body and his mouth wrecking you from below had your head spinning.

“katsuki—” you gasped, thighs trembling around his head. “i’m— i’m close.”

that was all it took. katsuki groaned deep in his throat, the sound vibrating against your cunt as his grip on your thighs tightened. his tongue worked even faster, flicking and circling your clit with devastating precision, like he needed you to fall apart for him or he'd die.

"yeah?" he rasped between licks, his voice thick and wrecked. "then fuckin’ give it to me, sweets. wanna feel you cum on my face."

he didn’t slow down, didn’t let up for even a second. his hands urged you down harder, forcing you to really sit on his face, and the pressure—his tongue, his mouth, the way he sucked on your clit—sent you careening straight into your orgasm.

your back arched, a broken moan spilling from your lips as pleasure crashed over you, white-hot and overwhelming. katsuki groaned against you like he felt it, like he was the one cumming, and he didn’t stop licking, didn’t stop devouring you, even as you trembled above him.

he finally pulled away, his lips and chin glistening with your slick as he sucked in a breath, eyes dark with hunger. he gave your thighs one last squeeze before gripping your waist.

“get up."

you blinked down at him, still trying to catch your breath. “what?”

“i said, get up,” he growled. "need to be inside you. now.”

you whined, shaking your head weakly. “katsuki, i just— i just came…”

“and?” he scoffed, sitting up slightly. “the fuck that got to do with me?”

before you could protest again, his strong arms moved, flipping you onto your back like you weighed nothing. a surprised yelp left your lips, but katsuki was already on top of you, pressing you into the mattress, his body burning hot against yours with his lips on yours.

"don't care if you just came," he muttered against your lips, biting down on your bottom one before sucking it into his mouth. "wanna feel you squeeze the cum outta me this time."

your head spun as he hovered over you, his weight pressing you down into the mattress. his hands were everywhere—gripping, kneading—like he couldn’t stand being apart from you for even a second.

"katsuki—"

"shut up," he growled, shoving your legs open with his knee. "you think i’m lettin’ you off that easy? nah. you got one, and now i’m gettin’ mine.”

you gasped as his hands grabbed your thighs, spreading them wider as he settled between them, his cock already hard and leaking against your folds. he positioned himself at your pussy, the tip of his cock pressing insistently against you.

"look at you," he murmured, rubbing his throbbing tip through your slick folds. "all fuckin’ messy for me already."

you gasped, legs twitching from overstimulation. “i— i need a second—”

“the fuck you do,” he muttered, lining himself up with your entrance. “you’re fuckin’ soaked. you’re fine.”

and before you could say another word, he thrusted into you, stretching you open in one slow, deep stroke.

"don't care what the fuck you say," he rasps. "bein’ so fuckin’ sweet, it makes me wanna ruin you."

your hands scrambled against his shoulders, nails digging in as you let out a choked sob, overwhelmed, tears pricking at your eyes as he kept moving, his cock dragging against your already-sensitive walls. “k-katsuki—'s too much—”

he didn't stop. didn't even hesitate. he knew better. knew you. if it was really too much, if you truly couldn’t take it, you would’ve said the safe word. and since you hadn’t? that meant you loved this—loved how he was using you, pushing you past your limits, making you take every inch of him.

“yeah? then why’s this pussy still fuckin’ suckin’ me in, huh?” he leaned down, his mouth brushing against your ear. “you know what to say if you really wanted me to stop, sweets.”

you whimpered, blinking up at him, your face hot and damp with tears. your breath hitched when he rolled his hips deeper, making your back arch off the bed.

“you like it, don’t you?” he murmured, dragging his lips along your cheek, tasting the tears running down your face. his hands pinned your wrists down beside your head, locking you in place beneath him. “fuckin’ cryin’ and takin’ my dick so good anyway. knew you’d let me use this sweet little pussy however the fuck i wanted.”

your body shook with every thrust, overstimulated and overwhelmed, but the pleasure was so sharp and dizzying, that all you could do was moan through the tears. you sobbed, back arching, hands clutching at the sheets. it was too much, but it felt too good. 

 his thumb swiped at your tear-streaked cheek, his other hand pressing down on your lower stomach, feeling the way he stretched you open. 

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he rasped, voice husky as he fucked into you harder, deeper, making sure you felt every inch. “be good for me. just take it. let me use you, yeah?”

you could barely think, barely breathe, and yet you nodded. and that was all he needed before his grip on your hips tightened, his cock stretching you wide, and he really started fucking you.

his hips snapped forward, burying himself deeper inside you, groaning as your walls clenched around him, still fluttering. his hand came up to grip your jaw, tilting your head to make you look at him.

“look at you,” he murmured, taking in the sight of you, tears spilling down your cheeks, the way your lips trembled. “so fuckin’ pretty like this. cryin’ for me. takin’ me like a good fuckin’ girl, squeezin’ me so tight, shit—”

your body trembled beneath him, your sobs mixing with broken moans as he fucked into you relentlessly. your arms struggled against his grip, desperate to reach for him, but he only pressed you deeper into the mattress, keeping you pinned.

“k-katsuki—” you gasped, tears slipping down your cheeks. “please—kiss me—”

he should’ve been satisfied with how wrecked you already were, with the way your body clenched around him so tight—but fuck, hearing you beg for his kisses?

that only made him worse.

“tch. still so fuckin’ needy, even when i’m ruining you.” 

his grip on your wrists loosens just enough for you to reach up. the second your hands touched him, you yanked him down, crashing your lips against his, desperate for the closeness, for the warmth of his mouth against yours.

katsuki groaned into the kiss, deep and hungry, swallowing your cries as he kissed you hard. his tongue pushes past your lips, claiming you just as much as his cock did. his thrusts didn’t slow, didn’t soften—if anything, he fucked you harder, like he wanted to ruin you completely.

“that what you needed, pretty girl?” he murmured against your lips, his breath heavy, your sobs melting into whimpers. “that why you’re cryin’? ‘cause you needed me to kiss you while i fuck you?”

you nodded frantically, another broken whimper slipping past your lips. “y-yeah—needed you—”

“yeah?” he smirked against your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip before kissing you again—sloppier, deeper, making sure you’d never forget exactly who you belonged to.

his rhythm starts to stutter, hips snapping into you harder, sloppier, and you felt the way his body tensed, the way his grip on your hips turned bruising. he forced another helpless cry from you, and he groaned against your lips, drinking in every sound.

"fuck—fuck," katsuki whined, voice raw and desperate as he buried himself deep inside you, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot and ragged, his lips brushing against your own as he lost himself in you. "you feel so goddamn good—s'fuckin’ tight, baby—"

you knew that tone—knew the way his voice cracked when he felt needy, when he was so fucking close to cumming. you loved when he got like this, when all his control slipped away and he was nothing but whiny, desperate need.

"katsuki—" you gasped, nails digging into his back, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper. "i'm—i'm close, i'm so close, wanna cum together—"

his grip tightened, a strangled groan ripping from his throat as he snapped his hips into you, his pace turning desperate chasing both of your highs. "fuck, yeah? c'mon, baby— wanna feel you cum, wanna fuckin' feel you all over my cock—"

his next thrust sent you over, body locking up as the heat coiled tight in your belly and snapped all at once. your moan shattered into a cry as your whole body trembled, clenching around him so hard its about to break him.

“oh, fuck—” katsuki choked, eyes rolling back as he lost it completely, slamming into you one last time before burying himself into your warm, wet pussy. his whole body shook, breath stuttering as he spilled inside you, groaning out your name like a prayer.

he kept thrusting—shallow, drawn-out rolls of his hips, like he never wanted to stop feeling you, even as he came down from his high. his forehead pressed against yours again, his breath heavy, his body spent.

for a moment, the only sounds in the room were your ragged breaths, your bodies still tangled, clinging to each other as you both came down from your highs. katsuki was still holding you, his grip tight but no longer desperate—just grounding. 

then, with a deep exhale, katsuki finally pulled out, rolling onto his side and gathering you against his chest. his arms wrapped around you securely, his large hand rubbing slow, lazy circles into your back. you felt his eyes scan over you with something softer than before—something almost tender.

“you alright, sweets?”

you nodded, still catching your breath, but the way your body trembled slightly didn’t escape him. he scoffs, sitting up just enough to lean over and press soft kisses to your damp forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“liar,” he muttered, but there was no bite to it. only warmth. “you cried, y’know.”

you let out a breathy laugh, snuggling closer. “you were relentless.”

he clicked his tongue, one of his hands finding the back of your head, his fingers slipping into your hair, the other resting on the small of your back, holding you close.

you melted into his chest, sighing against his skin. “you’re so warm…”

he smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “duh. i’m literally made of explosions, dumbass.”

you lightly smacked his chest, making him chuckle. but his teasing quickly faded as he tilted your chin up, crimson eyes searching yours. his thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away the last remnants of your overstimulated tears.

“seriously, though,” he murmured, quieter now. “you okay?”

your heart squeezed at how gentle he was being. how, despite how rough he could be, how demanding, he never once forgot to take care of you afterward. you leaned into his touch, nuzzling his palm.

“i’m perfect,” you smiled sleepily. “because of you.”

“tch. sappy little shit," katsuki exhaled sharply through his nose, looking away. his ears definitely got redder.  “you sure, though? i didn’t—y’know… go too hard?”

you hummed, tilting your head to press a lazy kiss to his jaw. “i'm fine, katsuki. i promise." 

he just huffed, shifting to grab a towel from the nightstand. “yeah, well, you better be. was holdin’ back just for you.”

you snorted. “that was you holding back?”

katsuki shot you a look but didn’t argue. instead, he started cleaning you up, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. he was quiet as he worked, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“…was it really okay?” his voice was quieter now, hesitant in a way he rarely was.

you cupped his cheek, running your thumb over the sharp line of his jaw. “yes. i’d tell you if it wasn’t, katsuki.”

his crimson eyes searched yours for a long moment before he finally exhaled, tension melting from his shoulders. “good.”

he kissed your forehead, then your nose, then finally your lips, lingering there as if he never wanted to pull away.

“cause next time, i’m makin’ you cry even harder.”

you groaned, shoving his face away as he laughed, the sound deep and full of warmth. 

katsuki didn’t say anything for a moment after—just stared at you, his expression completely unguarded. no sharp smirks, no cocky grins—just raw, unfiltered devotion.

he stared at you like you’d just hung the damn moon. like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.  

you reached up to brush a few stray strands of hair from his forehead, and he caught your wrist midair, holding it for just a second before bringing it to his lips. the kiss he pressed against your palm was barely there, but it sent warmth blooming in your chest.

“you’re lookin’ at me funny,” you murmured, voice drowsy.

katsuki huffed a quiet laugh, but he didn’t look away. “yeah?”

“yeah,” you smiled lazily back at him. “like i just saved a bunch of kids from a burning building or something."

his smirk was faint, more of a ghost of amusement than anything. he pressing lazy kisses along your wrist, trailing them down to the inside of your palm. “you didn’t save a bunch of kids. you’re just—you. and i dunno what the hell i’d do without that."

your chest ached at the raw honesty in his voice, but before you could say anything, katsuki pulled you in even closer, pressing his face against your shoulder, like he was trying to hide.

“go to sleep,” he grumbled, voice muffled against your skin. “say any dumb shit about it, and i’ll smother you.”

you couldn’t help but smile as you curled against him, feeling the way his arms locked around you just a little tighter. “mhm. goodnight, katsuki.”

and then you smiled—sleepy, content, completely at ease in his arms.

katsuki stiffened. just for a second. just enough for you to feel the way his breath hitched, the way his hold on you tightened like he was trying to keep himself together.

fuck.

that damn smile. that look on your face. like he was your whole world. like you trusted him. like you loved him.

he clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly through his nose, like that would do anything to calm the way his heart was fucking pounding.

"goodnight." 

he was fucked. absolutely, completely, and hopelessly fucked.

because thats when katsuki bakugo realized he was in love with you. and he couldn't do anything about it.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ tags: ˚⋆ @kalulakunundrum @ch3rryjampi3 @lotusstarr @aranikai @emmab3mma @yannvi @gabby-ha @twoplayergaymers @xanneeeyyyy @akiii143 @ceeriusly-dumb @beabamboo @butlereyepatchbunny @qyuin @ocharavitys @dragonscribble @jimabbenamara @g0dawnlita @sourgrapesthings @seraphiicallyy @aawwq @kaybug88

[nanamiskentos]

SHE TOLD YOU THAT SHE CELIBATE, SHE TOLD ME I COULD NAIL HER SH*T — gojo satoru minors dni

PART I. of the new years letters, a series of fics dedicated to some of my lovely mutuals! 🎁

prologue. → you wish gojo satoru would stop trying to ask you out. not that you don't like him, but dating the one guy that you're smacked silly about would mean that he could break your heart and leave you in ruins. so it's best to keep some distance right?

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. college au, reader wears a skirt, reader is choso's twin and yuuji's older sister, but no appearance detailed. kissing, making out, óral (f) receiving, general bitchiness and fuckups 😚 ensemble cast of poor bystanders (geto, shoko, sukuna, yuki etc)

word count. 10k! song inspiration. gang baby — nle choppa

a/n. it's because of that one edit by satorupedia that's going around rn. yall know which one 😭 art by touno_stupa on twt!

dedication. yayyy decided to start my little gift series for new years with this fic inspired and dedicated to @fushitoru who was one of the first blogs i followed on here before i was super familiar with jujutsu kaisen. aashi writes thee most wonderful gojo fics that are so well characterised and heart-stoppingly adorable and HAWT. 😁 🤭 and i easily associate her with physics/college au gojo now, ever since her spiderman gojo fic that lives in my head!!!!

gojo in this fic:

ACT I. don't puck around and find out!

"i ran into gojo today," choso says, his voice as unbothered and monotone as ever, scraping the gravel lazily with the heel of his scuffed combat boots, "or he ran into me."

"gojo satoru?"

"how many gojos do we know?" your twin brother huffs, giving you a dry side-eye. but before you can retort something equally acrid, he's yanking at the sleeve of your sweatshirt, halting you midstep, "wait. car."

you blink out of your tired daze just in time to see a battered camry putter past, its engine groaning like it's on its last legs. just how you feel after a long day of seminars and lectures. the car rattles down the street with the grace of a tin can tied to a string.

"thanks," you mutter, half-heartedly as you shift your laptop case from one tired arm to the other, "could have been the end of my genius academic career."

"would have been a short one either way," choso quietly quips, earning himself a sharp elbow to the ribs.

"so?" you press on.

"so, what?"

"what did gojo say?"

"ohhh," choso drawls, in that irritating way of his that indicates he has no idea how to deliver good gossip, news or any form of tea, "he asked if i wanted to play hockey for his team tomorrow. they're down a player ever since kento went on exchange."

"hockey?" your eyebrow arches, and skepticism curls your lips for choso is hardly known for his athleticism. you mean, you're sure he has the physical ability in him somewhere but you (and the rest of the world) are yet to see it, "are you gonna join the team, then?"

not that you care about gojo's stupid, state-tournament winning team. of course not. you're just curious. and curiosity is harmless.

it has nothing to do with the fact that you woke up last night wanting to jump gojo satoru's bones. just like you did the night before, and before. and the week before that. yeah, suffice to say that this has been going on for a while.

"nah," choso says, shaking dull, greasy strands of dark hair out of his eyes, "got placements tomorrow."

right. placements. choso's all about pathology and lab medicine and test tubes, while you get queasy at the mere mention of haemoglobin. and it unsettles you mildly at how your twin brother's eyes light up at the mere mention of a blood test.

"and?" you prod when he starts to drift off again, his attention wandering like it always does.

choso is often like a calm river. slow, broad and lazy.

this time, you pull at his one of his headphone cords to reel him back, "did gojo say anything else?"

choso gives you that dull look, quiet but loaded. like he's already solved a puzzle that you didn't know you were trying to hide. it just makes your stomach twist, "why do you care what gojo satoru says?"

"i don't," you snap, far too fast, like your tongue is racing your brain to a crash site. the lie sits heavy in your throat, thick and obvious.

choso's pale and dry lips twitch, and you wondered what happened to the lip balm you threw into his christmas stocking last year, "should i have told him you could sub in for his team instead?"

"no-one likes a smartass, cho," you grumble, speeding up your steps as your twin leisurely rummages through his fraying backpack for his house keys. you roll your eyes and push ahead, jamming your own keys into the lock before you die of boredom waiting for him to dig through the trash heap that lies at the bottom of his bag, "anyway, i was just asking. you brought gojo up."

choso trails behind you, his tone infuriatingly casual, "you always get weird when someone mentions him. i thought you guys were friends."

"we are friends. and i don't get weird."

"you get so weird. even yuki said so."

"i love yuki, i do. but she has no idea what she's talking about —"

the door swings open, cutting off your false deflection. standing there is yuuji, with half a sandwich dangling from his mouth like he's some kind of feral creature. there's a smear of mayonnaise clinging to his cheek as he yanks a red, track hoodie over his tank top.

"mmph! hey, you guys!" he muffles through a mouthful of bread, waving at you with the enthusiasm that only a teenage boy could muster after inhaling half the fridge.

"where are you off to?" you peer at your younger brother, your eyes zeroing in on his mutilated sandwich. a sandwich that you're certain you made for yourself this morning, leaving it for a study session upon your return.

"track practice," yuuji says, swallowing the last bite whole, "then dinner with fushiguro and kugisaki." he's already halfway down the driveway, sneakers untied and laces flopping on the pavement behind him.

choso narrows his eyes, "got money? or a water bottle? a hat? did you wear sunscreen?"

"i'm good!" yuuji calls back without breaking stride, waving a quick hand at the two of you.

"why don't you hold his hand and walk him to school, mother?"

"shut up," choso grumbles as he brushes past you into the house, throwing you an exaggerated scowl of wounded, elder-brother pride over his shoulder, "why don't you hold gojo's hand to hockey practice?"

your bookbag swings through the air, connecting to the back of choso's oversized head and a loud thud follows.

ACT II. long overdue and lacking a spine

you had been in this library for hours, eyes blurring as the words in your textbook stubbornly refused to make sense. it was all a gross blur of terms and diagrams, and your $8.00 coffee had gone lukewarm an hour ago.

study, pass, graduate. get a good gpa. that was the plan, no distractions.

your phone, however, had other ideas as it sat innocently next to your stack of notes. you tapped the screen quickly under the guise of a 'quick break' but before long, you were deep into instagram stories. someone's dog, a flyer for a rave that you definitely weren't going to, and then, of course, him.

gojo satoru. on someone's reposted story with a classic, grainy photo of one of the campus's most darling boys. long arm draped casually over some girl. both of them lit in the neon glow of what looked like a party bus. he wasn't even looking at the camera, just flashing that effortless grin that you had seen your entire life growing up. and the girl was gorgeous, obviously. not that you cared about that.

but speak of the devil and he hath appear. a long shadow fell over the table, and you felt the chill in your bones, trying not to shift in your seat.

"go away, gojo," you muttered, not even deigning to look up.

"how'd you know it was me?" his voice is teasing, all light and airy as he's pulling out the chair next to you.

"what can i say? lucky guess," you reply dryly, keeping your eyes glued to the suspiciously-stained textbook. worried that you'll look up and your iron resolve will disappear from one glance at big, blue eyes.

but out of the corner of his eye, you try not to twitch at the sight of the soft, pale blue hoodie that swallows his broad frame whole. thick, white strands of hair that fall gently over his face. and that cloying scent of mint and something faintly sweet that leaves your ears hot and your heart sitting in your throat.

study, pass, graduate. get a good gpa. that's what you tell yourself in a now failing mantra.

"are you following me today?" you ask, flipping a page with exaggerated nonchalance, like you're not about to tear up pathetically from a stupid crush.

"caught me," gojo says, the grin audible even in his voice, "i just couldn't resist finding you. is that what you want me to say?"

you finally look up, swallowing at unfairly fine features, "saw you were at some party yesterday. i didn't think you'd be on campus today."

gojo just laughs, the sound soft and infuriating, "keeping tabs on me now?" and he's rifling through his bag for something, "or you don't think the library's a good look for me? i'm broadening my horizons. testing the waters."

you narrow your eyes, willing the heat rising in your face to stay put and not crawl into your voice, "i think you're testing my patience. i have a test tomorrow, so if you're here to waste my time..."

"maybe i just wanted to hang out with my friend," gojo says, tearing open a kitkat wrapper in an obnoxious way that echoes through the silent hall, and the crinkle of plastic grates against your nerves, "we haven't seen each other in ages."

"don't you have a lot of other people to hang out with nowadays?" you're mentally beating yourself with a bat at your question, wincing at how it sounds like you keep count of who he hangs out with, and you're pathetically down bad for him. like a 90s singer begging on his knees for a kiss.

"i mean, i could hang out with them," gojo says, breaking his kitkat horizontally like a monster, "but they're not you."

his sunglasses are gone, revealing eyes so blue they look otherworldly, and he's throwing you that smiling, lopsided grin that makes your heart run around a room and bang into the walls. but no. you were not going to let gojo satoru get to you. he probably made every girl feel like this, like they were the centre of his fast-paced universe. until the next shiny thing came along.

besides, gojo satoru dated models. or stunning cheerleaders. the kind of people who looked good under strobe lights, and in the glow of his party bus digital camera pics.

and hey, it's not like you were self-depreciating or awfully insecure. you liked who you were and you would never change it for anyone. quiet and ambitious. reserved, but down for some fun. you'd like to think you were the type of person who saw the world in a beautiful, cinematic light. but it was maddening how gojo satoru seemed to bring out the most juvenile issues in you that had your stomach turning itself into ugly knots.

"gojo," you try to sound as nonchalant as possible, "are you even here to study?"

as in why are you really here? please ask me out.

gojo looks unbothered, unshaken, "coffee. cake. maybe even some flirting, if you're up to it."

the universe hates you. it has a way of delivering what you want right into your hands, when...you don't exactly want it.

you blink at the white-haired man, disbelief bubbling under your skin, "you're not serious."

"why wouldn't i be?"

"c'mon, satoru. everyone knows you're not the actual dating type. you ever been in a relationship that wasn't pr and lasted for more than two weeks?"

absolutely bonkers at how your heart and your tongue are not on the same wavelength at all. it's like your mouth missed the memo and is just firing bullets that have gojo's grin faltering a bit, as a flicker of heated annoyance flashes in his eyes. even hurt, but it's gone too quickly for you to read into it.

"didn't realise that you thought i was that much of a joke," and you're not fond of how gojo's voice is quieter now, and a pretty sneer is dancing across his lips. you're biting your lip before you lose your stupid, petty resolve to not get involved with someone who could truly break your heart.

"if you didn't make everything a joke, it wouldn't be," you snap at him, and you're not even sure what you're angry at. there's no reason to be annoyed, or frustrated or even hurt and snippy with a friend who came and sat with you to catch up.

but you don't want to untangle whatever you're projecting onto gojo satoru, so you let bitter words spill over, "some of us don't have time for your games, gojo. we have real lives to deal with."

gojo's expression shifts completely, and that playful spark in his eyes is replaced with something colder as he stands up and shoves his hands into his pockets, "right." and his tone is clipped, pissed, "got it. no time for games."

you watch as gojo walks away, already tapping away on his phone, but his footsteps are quieter than you expect. part of you wants to call after him, to take back the teeth and claws that painted your words.

but instead, you just look away from him and grimace. you must have pulled an awful, twisted face — for the man sitting across from you leans in and asks if you need to take an aspirin, or if you're low on fibre.

ACT III. between the covers

the bookstore smells faintly of old paper and new ink. a sharp contrast to the chill lingering outside, so the warmth hits you like a welcome blanket. the air buzzes with the muted chatter of customers, and the occasional beep of a cash register.

you're winding your way through the aisles, set on two missions. find that jacket-cover book that you had been wanting for weeks, and to hunt down the manga that yuuji had begged you to pick up for him.

you dart past a couple lingering in front of a 'booktube' bestseller display, narrowing avoiding a child wielding a stuffed dragon that you can only assume is smaug the magnificent from the hobbit. straight into the quieter section of the store, tucked in the back and smack-bang right into —

thud!

your shoulder collides hard with someone else, sending you stumbling back a step.

"fuck's sake. watch it," the person snaps, his tone sharp.

"maybe you should —" you start to retort, before the words die and patter out on your tongue as your mouth goes dry.

gojo satoru, ladies and gentlemen.

he's scowling at you, with sunglasses pushed up onto his head that expose those ridiculously pale eyelashes under the glow of the overhead lights. he's layered on a crisp varsity jacket, over a thick hoodie, all shades of soft blue and grey. and he looks irritated, with thick brows furrowed at you. but you don't miss the faint surprise that flutters across his face when he takes you in.

"seriously?" gojo murmurs, though more to himself, and his voice still holds an edge that has you wilting, "out of all the aisles in this store..."

you blink, caught somewhere between an apology that dances on the edge of your lips, and a bewildered laugh at how the divine powers deliver the worst luck on you. instead, you shove your hands deep into the pockets of your aviator jacket, "sorry. didn't see you."

gojo's shoulders relax, but just barely. as though he's still caught in the heavy fog of tension from your last words to him. but to your mild credit, he doesn't quite look ready to storm out either. progress?

"so. what are you doing here?" you ask, trying to break the ice and pretend that you're not doing internal pirouettes.

"just had to pick up a textbook," gojo mutters, holding up a thin and over-priced looking book on something like...quantum mechanics, "exams are coming up. gotta keep the top spot, you know."

you blink, "you're actually studying?"

gojo raises his eyebrow, lips twitching into the faintest smile, "what? you think i roll into my classes and ace everything through sheer willpower? or i spend all day being a joke and annoying everyone, right?"

you sigh, feeling the frosty, ice-gaze settle once more over you, paralysing you from head to toe, "look, gojo. i don't know what came over me that day," and now you're being sincere, looking away from his narrowed stare, "it's like some crazy, evil monster came over me and it possessed me. i think i incarnated some demon king in me and i said all that mean shit."

he shifts slightly beside you, and you don't miss at how gojo's lower lip juts out at your apology, or how close he is to you right now. "and i was jus' being stupid. swear i don't think you're a joke." you try to pick up some random book, pretending you're very busy as you speak.

but it's very hard to look genuine when you've just picked up a glossy copy of 'stand and deliver: a hard look at fixing male erection problems.'

it earns you a small laugh, light and quick, that has you almost falling to your knees, and you can hear choso's voice in your head. muttering out a dulcet 'i told you so. you want him so bad.' but it's worth it as gojo leans against the nearest shelf, the annoyance from earlier starting to ebb.

and for a moment, gojo studies you and his expression is unreadable. for your part, you're pretending to read the back cover of 'stand and deliver' and some blurb about how this award-winning author managed to help her husband 'get it up' after twenty years of marriage.

but the tension in his posture dissolves, relaxing further and gojo hums, "noted." that's all he says, and an awkward silence hovers. it hovers so uncomfortably, leaving you floundering for a new topic until gojo's voice breaks the silence.

"choso's doing good, yeah? i heard he got a girlfriend."

you smile, "yeah. yuki, she's like really cool. i don't know how he did it."

gojo snickers, "i asked if he wanted to play hockey and i think he's been avoiding me all week."

you try to pretend its not because of how you re-enacted your little spat with gojo, demonstrating the entire thing for your twin brother. who had just called you stupid afterwards. among other not-so-flattering terms, with little consideration for your crushing, beating heart.

"you going to suguru's party next weekend?"

ah, now that's a curveball.

because, again, you are your own brand of cool. or so you'd like to think, so this isn't really a matter of pitying comparison. but geto suguru is like on another level of effortlessly vogue. at least in your eyes. you know that he's gojo's best friend and he delivered a (controversial) and killer project on gene editing last semester. you know that geto's involved with gig photography as a hobby, and thus, has personal access to some of the coolest bands in the city.

and you also know that he occasionally waves a hand to you, but it's not like you actually know the man. it's just mutual association.

"i wasn't planning on it," you hesitate, for you really had been planning to cram through a mid-term session, "but someone asked me to go as their date."

gojo's smile evaporates, "who?"

"naoya zenin," you say cautiously, watching as gojo's face twists. like he's resisting the urge to gag and tear his hair out.

"naoya? he's like a walking billboard for being an entitled cunt," gojo groans, running a hand through glossy hair that has you trailing your gaze over slender, sculpted hands.

you narrow your eyes, "he seemed...okay. smart, i think."

"oh, he's smart. i'm not questioning that," gojo crabs, "he's so arrogant though. i grew up seeing that guy everywhere. our families were like, half friends."

you cross your arms, suddenly defensive, "are you warning me? or just mad that he asked me out?"

gojo seems to flounder for half a second, quick enough that you could miss it and he could deny it, "jealous of naoya? please," and he scoffs as he leans back against the shelf, "i have taste. unlike some people."

"you can't be the one giving me a lecture on dating etiquette. i mean, how many dates do you have lined up for geto's party? two, three?"

gojo gives you a sly grin, "more than that, hah. gotta keep my options open."

"tacky," you wrinkle your nose, trying to pretend that you don't feel like you just guzzled a gallon of curdled milk, "and classless."

"yes," gojo sighs sadly, "and endlessly charming. it's so hard being me," shooting you back a quizzical look as he pulls up to the register, paying for his textbook.

as he paid, you linger near the shelves, pretending to browse while stealing glances at gojo satoru. there was something different about him today, something quieter that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

and on gojo's way out, he pauses in the doorway, turning back to look at you. his expression is still entirely unreadable, his gaze lingering for just a second longer than usual. and then he was gone.

ACT IV. blush confidential

there's a soft hum of pop music wafting from someone's phone, blending in with the rustle of fabric and the hiss of a straightener. your bedroom is a whirlwind of motion and chaos, with clothes thrown over chairs, and pre-game drinks piled up over your vanity.

"i can't believe you're not coming with us," you gripe to yuki, watching as she lounged up on your bed, denim crinkling as she shifted to adjust herself.

"tch, you know i love a good party," yuki grins with sparkling ideas, "but choso and i have a date tonight. he's been texting me about it all day."

you snicke at the thought of your hapless twin, "yeah. he was practically glued to your dm's. ran into the kitchen table twice this morning."

shoko snorts from her spot at the vanity, from where she's running a brush through cropped, chestnut hair, "choso nervous? i need to see that," she catches your eye in the mirror, "do you still have that lip gloss?"

"on it," you're digging into the vast depths of your purse, grazing your wallet and a hal-featen granola bar. stubbing your finger on an opened gel pen, before clutching a small shiny tube that you toss to shoko.

"so," shoko smacks her lips, "how's it going with naoya?"

you blink, pausing in the middle of capping all your drying pens, "what do you mean how's it going? nothing's going."

your friend swivels on her stool, raising a thin eyebrow, "he's your date at this party, right? and why him, of all people?"

"seriously. that guy's got a reputation. and not a good kind, for a very good reason," utahime chimes in from her corner, where she's yanking on a ribbon woven through her hair.

you shrug, suddenly feeling defensive under their collective scrutiny, "hey. he asked, i said yes. it's not that deep."

shoko exchanges a pointed glance with utahime, and both of them looking equally skeptical in a way that has you flushing.

"he's just annoying, you know," shoko points out, "he thinks he's better than everyone else, and half the time? it's just hot air."

"and the other half?"

"still hot air," shoko flatlines, "you can do better."

"anyone's better than gojo," utahime mutters, "you don't want to be stuck with him."

yuki's snickering, and you're doing your utter best to pretend that the mention of gojo satoru doesn't have you crawling up and down the walls like a termite on crack.

"speaking of gojo," yuki drawls, running a comb through a golden sheaf of thick hair, "is he going with anyone to this party?"

you freeze for half a second, before busying yourself with some new body mist that you picked up from a sale, all vanilla and coconut and macademia, "i ran into gojo the other day," and you keep your tone as neutral as possible, "and he said he had a few dates."

"ugh," shoko groans, wrinkling her nose, "of course he does," and utahime mutters an affirmative, exasperated sigh, echoed only by yuki, who pauses mid-brush to look at you sympathetically.

"what?" you snap, defensive, "why are you all looking at me like that?"

shoko tucks a thin strand of hair behind her ear, "well, i mean. you like gojo, right? like really like him?"

"huh?" the question catches you so off guard that you're left sputtering, as the perfume leaves a sharp and awful taste on your tongue, accidentally leaving a fresh spritz into your mouth, and not the curve of your neck.

"oh, blech. absolutely not," you say vehemently, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, "i don't like him like that. not that i think he's awful or anything —"

utahime crosses her arms, white sleeves brushing against each other, "he is awful."

"yes, thank you for that, utahime. but he's just not my type," you finish firmly, "he's loud. he's disruptive. he can't take anything seriously. i can't date that."

yuki gives you a long and knowing look, "oh, he likes you," she says lightly, as though she's telling you a casual piece of news, and not something that has you biting your tongue till iron spills, "he's been crushing on you for so long."

you feel your stomach twist uncomfortable, like little, evil goblins are dancing in your gut, "that's ridiculous," you mutter, fiddling with the clasp of your purse, "if he liked me, he would ask me out properly. and not date half the student population."

"he probably thinks it's fair, because you keep turning him down," shoko says matter-of-factly, standing up to grab her bag.

"i just don't think he's good for you. or anyone," utahime mutters, earning a pinch from you.

ACT V. stereo love

normally, gojo thrived at these parties. suguru was always able to pull a crowd that straddled the line between chic and cool, with just enough alcohol to keep things interesting. the thrum of the bass-heavy music should have been the perfect escape after a gruelling day spent staring at equations, leaving him half-convinced that his course coordinator was plotting against him and wanted him dead.

but now gojo satoru was just jittery, restless. and he hated that.

so for now, he leaned against the kitchen counter with a full cup in hand, watching people spill out of the living room and into the backyard. it seemed that other students had been aching for a party, something to take them off mid-terms and yet here he was, scowling like a storm cloud. he took another swig of his drink, ignoring how his own stomach was doing unexplained cartwheels.

"you good?"

suguru's low voice cuts through the noise, startling gojo enough that he has to tighten his fingers around his cup so sticky beer doesn't spill over pristine tiles.

gojo waves his closest friend and confidante off, "i'm fine. obviously."

suguru's frown deepens, though it's obscured by his loose, choppy dark hair. and there's skepticism painted all over his face, "you're never this quiet at any party. i thought that by now, i would have had to convince you not to jump off the roof."

"you think too little of me."

"you think too much of yourself," suguru drawls, but he's leaning against the counter beside gojo, as leather and cool metal rustle against each other, "so where's your date? or dates, i should say?"

gojo freezes, his cup halfway to his lip, "come again? what are you talkin' about?"

suguru arches a thin brow, "it's practically all over campus, man. apparently, you had several dates with lovely, young ladies lined up tonight. and i tried to defend your fragile honour, said it was too ambitious even for you. but..."

this revelation hits gojo like a punchline that he wasn't in on, and then it clicks for him. oh, he had started that rumour a few days ago. in the bookstore, to you. his brain replays the scene like a cruel, little highlight reel: the way your expression had wavered minutely, just for a moment, when he had straight up lied and claimed that he had a few dates.

truth be told, gojo had only said it to make you jealous, to see if he could ruffle you and play your game even better.

but now the joke was so clearly on him.

because gojo satoru had no dates. and you? you were here with someone who wasn't him.

suguru's following his gaze across the room, and gojo doesn't even bother to hide his petulant interest. he can see you standing near the back walls, laughing at something that naoya zenin, mayor of all things putrid, had said. naoya, with his stupid green roots and louis vuitton jacket, standing just a little bit too close to you for gojo's liking.

but before he can stew in it any linger, suguru's reaching out and pinching his ear. hard.

"ow! fuck was that for?" gojo's yelping, jerking away from his clearly evil, traitrous best friend.

"that," suguru says evenly, "was for looking like a lovesick idiot. pull yourself together, man."

"i'm not lovesick," gojo weakly protests, rubbing his bruised, throbbing ear and moving further away from suguru geto.

"you're not exactly screaming cool and collected," suguru dryly comments, "sulking like a sore loser while your crush laughs at another guy's jokes."

gojo feels his face heat up, just a little bit, because he knows that suguru's hitting close to home, "i don't sulk and do all that whiny shit. second of all, it's not my fault she went with zenin of all people. it's up to her if she wants to be stuck with someone who talks about his family's real estate portfolio as foreplay."

suguru snorts, and it's clear that he's not playing the role of sympathetic best man for life, "you know what's more obnoxious? watching you fuck around like this. you need to figure out how to ask her properly."

"i did all that!" gojo shoots back, throwing his arms up so his drink dances over the edge of the cup, "she said no. each time. you know what they call a guy who can't take a hint? she thinks i'm a loser!"

"and are you?"

gojo narrows his eyes, "am i what?"

"a loser."

"is it easier for me if i just say yes?" gojo half-heartedly gripes, "is that what you want me to say?"

"or," suguru says calmly, "you're a guy who hasn't proven he's worth saying yes to."

gojo groans, tipping his head back so he can block out the vision of his irritatingly wise best friend, "you sound like my grandmother."

"that's not even an insult. your grandmother is on some metal shit," suguru counters, unbothered, "and you sound like a twelve-year old. you can't flirt and sleaze your way through this. if you want her to take you seriously, i don't know how else to say this, you have to stop being...you."

"excuse me?"

"no. stop, don't make that face," suguru scowls, "you know what i mean. stop being a stupid flirt, and be a genuinely better person. otherwise, you're just spinning and burning out your wheels."

"did you pick up a self help book?"

suguru elbows him, sneering, "i'm trying to help you. if you don't want my help, i'm telling her you have an std."

"maybe you should just do that. end my misery," gojo downs the rest of his drink in one go, the burn of cheap beer doing nothing to ease the olympics in his alimentary canal. what's worse is that suguru is right, the bastard always is.

suguru claps him on the shoulder, "relax, satoru. you've got charm in spades. just use it...wisely."

"yeah, yeah. thanks, man," gojo mutters, brushing him off as suguru wanders away, probably to mediate some dumb argument between that big oaf, toji fushiguro and the even bigger oaf, ryomen sukuna. honestly, why were they even invited?

but gojo stays where he is, eyes flicking back to you. away from the distracting curve of your thighs in that skirt, and rather on how interested you look in naoya's stupid, animated gestures. and you look so at ease, but there's something hot and sharp twisting inside his gut.

suguru's soft, measured voice echoes in his head, "prove yourself as a person first."

oh, yeah. gojo could do that. he would absolutely do that. for you, he'd do just about anything, short of donating his vital organs (but he would definitely be considering it). but how hard could it be to be better? more mature? more grounded?

gojo satoru can handle all that. all he had to do was be a dignified, charming man. you know, someone who puts his best foot forward into the world. someone that you might actually consider taking seriously. someone calm and respectful.

if you were happy with naoya zenin, then who was he to interfere? who was he to ruin that for you? even if the guy looked like wile e. coyote when he smiled. even if naoya zenin was the most smug bastard to walk the earth.

gojo scowled at nothing in particular. but the point was that it wasn't his place to meddle. not if it meant risking your happiness. all he could do was be the best version of himself. polite, kind and above reproach. a good and respectful friend.

ACT VI. a shot of love, on the rocks.

"please, i want you so fuckin' bad."

gojo satoru is on his knees. at a party, in the middle of the living room. for you.

you feel like your mind isn't able to process all this fast enough, like your brain is on some pause. the music is still thumping in your head, but not as fast as your poor cardiac muscles as you're rendered frozen from pathetic, piercing blue eyes blinking up at you.

"please," gojo satoru repeats, and his voice vaguely warbles out like he's kinda lost his marbles and —

let's rewind.

five minutes ago, you had been standing with naoya zenin. and despite your initial reservations, you had been entertained. he's sorta witty, and definitely loaded with snarky remarks that cut through the noise of the party. it's hard not to laugh at his biting commentary, although half the time he's skewering people for fun, and the other half? just out of pure spite.

his golden eyes gleam with that edge, the kind of sharpness that makes you think of a hyena circling around its next meal. naoya is definitely full of himself, but it doesn't help that he's also ridiculously good-looking. and he knows how stunning he is, but its bothering him that you're not showering him in enough compliments for it.

still, he's here with you. he's your date. and you're doing your best to remind yourself of that. naoya is the only option you have at the moment, and he's definitely offering you more attention than anyone else tonight.

from across the room, utahime gives you an exaggerated, pained thumbs-up — while shoko shrugs in her usual blithe manner, but she gestures for you to smile more. you plaster on a wider grin, a little too obvious but naoya doesn't seem to notice.

"you know, if you're getting bored of all this, we could always find another room," naoya's low hiss slices right through the bass-thrum of the pulsing room, "do a little more than just talk."

for a moment, it's easy to imagine slipping away with him. but the sharpness in his killer-smile makes something in you bristle, like he's already envisioned you saying 'oh yes, naoya! please take me to bed!' and you shake your head, and give him an amused look.

"maybe later," you say lightly, "not now."

naoya zenin doesn't seem quite offended, but his smile grows wider as he stands up straight again, from where he had curved his tall frame into you, "i'm a patient man. fine by me, 'm gonna get some more drinks."

and you watch as his golden head of hair disappears into the crowd, leaving you all alone while the music blares around you, like a suffocating fog. you rub your temples, wondering if you should just go after naoya and tell him to go to town, something for the night's enjoyment. but before you can go any further, you hear a shout cut through the noise.

"hey!"

you whip around, blinking in surprise at gojo satoru.

but also not quite the gojo that you're used to. the one that you grew up with, and held hands with in kindergarten, one who smiled easy and laughed too loud. it seems he's ditched the oversized hoodies and varsity jackets tonight, opting for a black tee that fits him a little too well and dark cargo pants that only highlight...

you're getting distracted. but it's hard to remain focused, when he's walking towards with you. seemingly determined, as his white hair falls forward over thunderstorm-eyes. for a moment, you're not sure if you’re hearing him over the pounding music, or if it's just your own pulse making everything seem louder.

"i hate that you're here with naoya," gojo says suddenly, and his voice is low and serious, something that you've never really heard from him before.

your brow furrows, "what?"

"i lied about the dates," he continues, as words just jumble out his candy-pink mouth, "i don't have a bunch of dates. fuck, i don't even have one date. i only want to date you."

you blink, and then you blink once more, because again what?

the sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you think you might have misheard the man. his blue eyes are wide and earnest, and they're staring right at you.

and before you know, he's on his knees. muscular thighs bending so his knees hit the cool tiles with a heavy thud, hands splayed out for you.

"please," he implores, "you gotta understand. i need you to feel what i feel, because it's not even a passin' thought, i swear. it's not even a stupid crush. this is like —" and he's gesturing wildly with one hand, still kneeling like a knight about to beg for his lady's favour, "this is destiny."

"gojo," you manage, "are you on drugs?"

the white-haired man, bless his sassy heart, rolls his eyes, "no. i'm on beer and vodka. will you please let me finish?"

"yes, but what are you doing?" you hiss, exasperated and sibilant, as more eyes turn to the most ravishing man on campus, who's absolutely off his rocker. and there are phones being pulled out, god help you.

"what am i doing?" gojo smiles, and it's unnervingly wide, "i'm like laying it out all here for you. my love. because that's what you are, to me. like you're everything. and i swear everyone knows this already. should i call you my sun, my moon, my entire universe? it's like time stops when i see you, a-and trust me, i do physics. i know time shit," and he must have caught at how your mouth is flapping open because he suddenly wags a finger, "no! i'm not done. i haven't even told you how the world fades, and all that's left is you glowing. like a star that i can't reach."

he's placing a hand on his broad chest, digging into the tight top clinging to his pectorals, like he's being dramatically wounded, "i have to reach you. i have to be with you."

you're not sure what parts you've processed, or what part of this slow train-wreck has settled in your head, "are you, like, actually begging right now?"

gojo's eyes flash with the intensity of a thousand suns (well, fuck — gojo's awful poeticism is rubbing off on you already). you can hear the low snickers of two men that had been beating the living daylights out of each other half an hour ago, those fuckwits that go by toji and sukuna. you can hear sukuna's deep mutters about how no-one ever would like toji enough to do this for him. and yep, you can hear them scuffle again.

"yes!" gojo booms, and more than a few heads have turned now. you wonder if naoya zenin is watching in the background, and realising that this isn't a battle he wants to pick, "i will kneel for you. like i'd do this shit for eternity, even if my knees hurt so bad right now. but as long as you give me a chance to prove my worth. and my devotion, d-don't forget that! deep as the ocean, endless and vast. and the stars align...oh, how they align for us."

"ah, satoru," you cut in, and you realise that you're now smiling. embarrassment and mild humiliation be damned, there's a quirk tugging at your lips, "you can get up now. this is a bit dramatic."

gojo blinks, not missing a beat, "i'm dramatic because i'm in love, okay? and —" he swivels his head to the crowd, grumbling, "shut up, sukuna! i heard that, i'll beat your wonky ass. you don' know shit about love."

he's turning back to you, all sticky and soothing sugar once more, "where was i? eh, my confession. well, it's all for you. and it's me, givin' you every part of me. beggin' you to see that you're the only one who can break the walls around my heart."

you think that you've completed a full speed-run on every stage of grief that there is to experience, and if the small plink! coming from someone's phone is any indication, gojo's monologue has already made it's way onto someone's private story. and so naturally, everyone will have seen it by tomorrow.

"can you get off your knees? you look ridiculous."

gojo's grin falters for a split second before he straights up, all with a hefty groan as he runs a hand through snowy strands, "ridiculous? i'm being vulnerable as hell, and you think i look stupid?"

"a little," you admit, but you're reaching a hand out to push a strand of thick hair out of his eyes. and it's maddening at how gojo seems to tremble mildly under your touch, at the brush of your fingers against his temple, "kneeling at a frat party is crazy work."

gojo sinks his teeth into a plush lower lip, "that was me trying to show how much i care, and all that sweet shit. you make me lose all my cool, and this isn't even a joke."

"you never had cool, and now you've lost your dignity too," but you're blushing, and it's a giddy feeling at how he's now close enough that you can feel his body heat.

gojo satoru's eyes twinkle, "maybe. but i'd do all that again if it won you over."

"with your future oscar nomination?"

the man shrugs, broad muscles rippling, "he who be a fool for love is far better than he who doth never dare to try at all."

"fair point," you murmur, feeling dizzy in that familiar scent of lemon candies and mint, like the world is swirling around in a heady haze, "do you wanna kiss me to seal the deal?"

"yes please. i think i'm gonna pass out and — mmph!"

you've pulled yourself up, and thrown your arms around his warm neck, drawing gojo into you. crashing your lips into his before either of you can say anything else. it's an urgent, reckless kiss. like a dam has burst and all the pent-up emotions that you've been carrying have finally exploded.

gojo's lips are soft, but demanding, taking more and more air from you. they fit against you with an ease that feels almost too natural. and his broad arms come around your waist with a force that leaves the air punched out of you. he's holding you tightly, as though he's afraid that you'll just disappear if he doesn't keep you close enough.

you can feel the heat of his body against yours, the muscles in his arms that flex as he pulls you in, deepening the kiss. all while his mouth moves against yours with a slow and deliberate intensity, as his tongue parts your lips. all so messy.

when gojo finally pulls away, the last brush of his lips catches your quiet whimper. just as his breath goes ragged, and you're left standing there, dazed, with your forehead resting against his. you can still feel the warmth of his lips on yours, that electricity that's crackling and buzzing through your veins as you giggle.

gojo, however, doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath. he tugs your wrist with a sharp, swift motion. but his grip is firm, not harsh as you pulls you away from the living room, "c'mon. let's get outta here."

shoko's eyes are wide, her jaw practically locked in disbelief, "what the hell just happened?"

utahime's lips curl, "someone took gojo's brain out and replaced it with a clone. ah! geto, what did you do?"

suguru has been standing near the kitchen counter, absolutely floored, and he's shaking his head so hard that he feels a headache forming, "hand on my heart, ladies. i told him not to pull any stunts. swear on destiny's child that i didn't tell him to do all that."

ACT VII. i bet we'd have really good bed chem!

gojo satoru has absolutely lost his mind. but you wish that he had lost it a bit earlier, because you're practically pawing at his top now. critically working to make quick work of the tight fabric, letting your fingers run over hard planes of muscles and lower.

right until you're reaching a trail of soft white hairs that disappear into the band of his pants.

"seems like you're just as desparate as me, hah," gojo snickers, and his broad hand is trailing further up your thighs, letting your skirt bunch and crinkle under his ministrations. thick fingers brush over dewy cotton, and you moan.

"s-satoru!"

"you don't even know how long i've w-wanted this," and his hand clenches at the fabric, gripping it so tightly that you fear it may just be on the verge of tearing, but you can only buck your hips into him further.

no longer even mindful of how you must be already dripping onto the palm of his hand, "and i thought you knew. i r-really thought you knew how much i wanted you."

his middle finger is gliding through your damp and searing slit, with clinging strands latching onto his skin as you muffle a whine into his chasing, teasing lips.

it's sending deep, low curls of arousal in thick waves, settling low in your groin and you don't even care what room of the house you're now in, someone's bedroom with a dark, stylish bedspread and vinyls up on the walls.

the force of his large hands drives you down onto the bed, pressing your back onto the soft mattress.

and gojo looks so pleased, at how you're splayed and sprawled out underneath his torso, his hands tugging at your now bare thighs to spread your legs even further. pulling them far enough so they come to rest on either side of his face.

"fuck, she's so pretty. even better than i imagined," and gojo's voice is husky and low, almost strained, "and believe me. imagined her plenty." the sound of drenched cotton being torn rips through the air, slippery and resistant from your arousal.

it's even stubborn as the fabric refuses to budge, until it gives way under the force of gojo's tug, soft and tearing. leaving your pussy open to the cool, cold air. bare for gojo's eyes to rest upon and widen.

his lips brush against your thigh with an uncharacteristic gentleness, one that makes your entrance clench and wink.

but gojo is nothing if not teasing, and he feels light-headed. pressing featherlight kisses to the crevice of your thigh, and then closer to your aching mound. but even he cannot hold off for much longer, and he's pressing a flat, lazy print of his tongue against your cunt.

that first munch sends a burst of tangy sweetness dancing across gojo's tongue, and he thinks he might just bust a load right then and there. the heat of your clenching cunt is almost overwhelming, but hey.

gojo's never been a quitter, and he doesn't care if he creams his pants at this very moment, he needs to hear that sweet whimper of his name from your lips again.

his lips part, blowing a quick breath on your aching clit, right as his fingers begin to press and meld into your syrupy folds. it's got you practically jumping further into him, so wet strands are clinging to the very tip of his nose. and gojo knows that this is heaven. that he's unlocked true paradise.

"satoru, c-can't you...?"

he's too busy running his tongue over your clit, drawing small circles with the very tip of the hot muscle, "can't i what, pretty? don' want me eating you out?"

and you are so adorable, pushing your head up to scowl down at him with furrowed brows, but the flush in your cheeks paints you the most beautiful shade of cherry red. and gojo vows to spend the rest of his life ensuring that this shade never leaves your cheeks.

"can't you get to the eating part? thought that you were gonna — f-fuck! hnngh, 'toru!"

he's pulling your thighs tighter around his head, and he doesn't give a fuck if this is how he goes. suffocated in this tantalising heat, with your fingers lacing themselves into woven patterns in his white hair.

he's lowering his tongue once more into your throbbing pussy, making sure that his pleased vibrations send pleasurable rumbles right through your core.

grinning and slurring his tongue further into you, right as you buck desparate hips over and over. dragging yourself against his chin, so he's sure that the lower half of his face must be glistening with your sweetness.

gojo absolutely thinks he can get used to being like this, at having you angle and force his head further into your cunt. letting you angle and toy at him and use him for your pleasure. he snaps his teeth around glossy strands of arousal, once and then twice, before delving back in.

making sure that his spare hand finds your clit to draw quick flicks and shapes over it, pushing a finger right up against the throbbing hood.

"satoru, ah, satoru! 'toru!" it's all you can even manage right now, just chants and groans of his names, as he's practically sunken your hips into the mattress, while he's on his knees for the second time this night.

"hey, none of that, yeah?" and gojo's gently tugging at your arm. trying to get you to stop muffling your whimpers and cries, because he just needs to hear your adorable sounds. and he needs to hear your bird-like cries when you come undone.

what a joy it is for gojo. to be able to dive between your legs and run his tongue between your folds. he's losing his mind at how your body trembles under his touch, and how he makes the mistake of peering up at you. your lips are parted, open and glossy. and your brows are furrowed, as lashes flutter against your cheek. you have to cum, gojo satoru needs you to cum right now.

and so, he exerts all his effort ten fold into having you finish. it's so sloppy, and so messy. gojo lets his own eyes dip shut, letting himself feel your glossy, glistening cunt pulse around his tongue. and let there be no doubt that gojo satoru is a munch, for he's eating you out in such an ardent manner, and it basically sends you barrelling towards a heart-stopping orgasm, where tears spring to the corners of your eyes.

you needn't have even tried to warn him of your impending climax, for gojo knows in the way that your legs quiver and get sloppier over his face. stars fall over your vision as you heave and toss your head back, muscles rippling as "satoru, satoru!" falls from your lips, long and drawn out as the rest of the world goes dark around you.

you gasp, struggling to inhale as the syrupy air is stolen from your lungs, all while gojo runs his tongue through your folds, head spinning with the dizzying rush of sensation. it's as if you've been swept away, hurtling towards space, weightless and disorientated.

only to crash back into reality as gojo seemingly hasn't stopped letting himself taste all of you, with not a drop of arousal wasted. your back is further pressed into the soft mattress beneath you, and the surge of overstimulated numbness follows, all pleasurable pins and needles and ferocious need.

"look at that, 'm already addicted," gojo coos, almost to himself, scooping a finger through the translucent gloss that leaks from your cunt. bringing it up to his mouth to wrap his tongue around, "think you can handle giving me another one?"

you let out a weak, breathless laugh. your gaze lingering on gojo's face, the soft moonlight that casts an ethereal glow on his features. his chin still faintly gleams, coated in your mirror-sheen and his lips are a plump, rosy red. you part your lips, propping yourself onto your elbows, but before you can form the words, the door slams open with a force that makes your ears rattle.

"i've looked in every fuckin' room in this house, and i swear to everything holy, satoru. if you chose my bedroom, i'm gonna —"

geto suguru's voice cuts off mid-rant, his words dissolving into a strangled, pained gasp as he takes in the sight before him. gojo, kneeling between your legs, wearing a ridiculously pleased grin. just like the cat who got the cream. you let out a squeak, hastily tugging your skirt over you, but it's hard to look innocent when gojo is still unabashedly pawing at your thighs.

geto pales, his jaw going slack, and he looks like he's about to collapse, "god help me. satoru, i'll kill you tomorrow," and then he shoots you both a nasty look, "and you're both paying for new sheets."

"so you and gojo are...dating now?" choso pries, with a tone that is entirely too casual but his eyes are keen. your twin is nursing a cup of coffee while he absolutely demolishes a plate of fried eggs. he had been quiet so far, but it's clear that curiosity gave out and now he's peering at you like a big owl.

you try, or do your very best not to smile too hard. to not look giddy and ridiculously pleased, "yeah, i guess we are," you admit, keeping your voice as level as possible.

choso blinks once, before setting his fork down and shaking his head, "i knew it. it was only a matter of time," he mutters, and without further ado, he resumes shovelling eggs into his mouth, utterly unfazed.

before you can respond, sukuna appears in the doorway, leaning lazily against the frame, his tattooed arms crossed and his expression dripping with disdainful amusement, "oh, i was there," he drawls, sharp fangs flashing in a wicked grin, "that loser pulled the dumbest, most dramatic stunt of all time. got on his knees and everything."

choso freezes mid-chew, raising a thick brow as he glances at the older man with mild interest, "wish i'd seen that," he mumbles through a mouthful of toast.

to your utter astonishment, sukuna nods gravely, his face taking on an uncharacteristically serious look, "yeah. i've got a video if you wanna watch."

your jaw drops as you glance between them, "this is officially the first time that i've ever seen you two agree on anything," setting your mug down with a thud, "if i had known that dating gojo would bring about world peace, i would have done it ages ago and —"

yuuji bounds into the kitchen like an overeager puppy, his blush-pink hair still a mess from interrupted sleep. but he's clapping his hands together like he's just won the lottery, "finally! look at that! everyone's getting along for once."

sukuna doesn't even bother to hide his irritation, shooting yuuji a withering glare. but it's hard to take him seriously when his own pink hair rivals yuuji's in sheer disarray, "don't push it," sukuna warns darkly, grabbing a glass of orange juice and downing it in one morose gulp. he slams the empty, cold glass on the counter before stalking off towards the door, "i'm seriously gonna move out at this rate."

"promise?" choso quips, without missing a bit, "wish you'd stop getting our hopes up and actually do it."

yuuji is undeterred, and he elbows you with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, "you have to invite gojo over all the time now. i like him a lot. he's like super cool."

"of course," you grin, sliding a plate towards him as he eagerly digs in.

and your younger brother beams like the sun itself. right as a mocking, high-pitched voice floats from the other room, "and then we're all gonna be lovesick, and skip around town while holding hands!" right before falling back into sukuna's usual gruff tone that echoes through the kitchen, "god, you're all so insufferable."

your phone buzzes on the table, and you glance down. gojo's contact photo lights up the screen. it's a snapshot from a year or two ago, taken the summer that you both graduated high school. he's standing at the edge of the beach, with the sun dipping low enough behind to catch his white hair. turning it into a halo of glowing light. it's a photo that you never had the heart to change.

satoru 🪐

good morning princess!! my one and only!!!! my sugar plum (too much? i can tone it down but you just can't put a lid on love) hope you dreamed of me 🙂‍↔️ so what are you doing today because i've got abt eight possible things we can cover today starting with [read more.]

"ugh, gross."

sukuna's disdainful drawl cuts through behind you, as an icy finger prods at your phone, trying to scroll up and snoop through your messages. you freeze and slam your phone down on the table. whirling around to come face to face with the world's most judgemental gargoyle sneers at you, "i think i'm gonna throw up."

"get a life, holy fuck."

[spearofheaven]

⋆˚࿔ BEHIND CLOSED DOORS — office worker! nanami kento

SUM. when your husband’s secretary acts just a little too friendly around him

CONTAINS. 18+ content, MDNI. 1.1k+ words. x fem reader. semi-public sex. exhibitionism. cunnilingus. fingering. use of pet names.

"you need an appointment to see mr. nanami."

the receptionist spoke in a bored tone, barely looking up from her computer to give you a once-over. all the while she rolled her eyes and obnoxiously smacked her gum, like you were the one wasting her time.

but before you even had the chance to answer, the office door creaked open. "and i thought i mentioned that she could come in without needing one," nanami spoke up, appearing beside her desk.

the receptionist straightened up and busied herself with 'stacking' a couple papers on her desk. fluttering her lashes when she did look up at him, leaning forward just the slightest bit. "sorry, sir. you've just been soo busy and you did mention you didn't want anyone to bother you."

you honestly couldn't blame her, though. not when your husband had walked out of his office without his suit jacket on—the sleeves of his blue button down pushed up and showing off his watch. and well, the most important thing, his wedding ring. which she was blatantly trying to disregard.

"i'm aware. but you should know that doesn't apply to my wife, she's welcome to enter whenever she pleases," you could practically see her jaw clench as soon as he called you his wife, "please don't have me repeat myself. again."

"yes, sir. it won't happen again."

what she'd promised last time.

you stepped foot into the office, ceiling to floor windows decorating the space behind his desk. your heels clacked against the pristine floors, walking over to one of the wooden chairs.

"i brought you some lunch. saw that you forgot your bento at home and i wasn't sure if you brought any money to buy lunch," you spoke up, giving him a soft smile as you offered him the bento.

"thank you," he took the bento from you, setting aside, "but i think i'd like to have something different for lunch," kento cleared the space in front of him, patting on the wooden desk. a silent invitation. the skirt you had on rose up when you took a seat. the perfect offering if you'd ask nanami.

calloused hands ran down your legs, gently spreading them open. taking his time despite the thirty minute time constraint. "i'm sorry about her, by the way," nanami spoke up in a whisper, his lips pressing against your calf. "i don't know how much more obvious i need to be about being happily married."

his lips were reverent as he kissed up your leg, one of his hands holding the other in place. "like i'd ever want anyone but you, my love," he murmured, more so to himself, gently nibbling on your inner thigh. where only he'd be able to see them after. your legs spread apart almost instinctively, giving nanami the perfect view of the lace panties he adored so much.

and as much as he loved seeing you in them, the sight of you without them was much better. kento hooked one finger around the waistband, slowly removing them. sliding them inch by inch down your legs. "you didn't think we should hurry up, mr. nanami?" you questioned teasingly, pushing his hair back to take a look at his face.

"and why would we do that, mrs. nanami? i want to enjoy our time here," he pulled the underwear off, letting it fall to the floor. "well, you know you're sooo busy," you drawled, twirling a hair strand in between your fingers. he let out a small scoff, gently nipping at your leg in retaliation.

"never busy enough for you, you know that," kento’s voice came out muffled, licking a stripe up your cunt. he swirled his tongue around your clit before moving down, running the tip of his tongue down your folds. "never?" you mused, looking down at nanami. he wasn't paying that much attention to you anymore—rather, just your pussy.

"never," he muttered offhandedly, pushing a finger inside of you. your heels dug into his shoulder blades, your back arched when kento curled his fingers to hit your g-spot. and while it'd hurt at first—it was a pain that nanami was more than welcome to receive if it meant getting to lose himself in you.

your nails—paid for by yours truly—tugged on his hair, pulling him closer to your dripping cunt. kento clicked his tongue, looking up at you, "come on, use your words. tell me what you want and i'll give it to you."

"more, please," you responded almost immediately, your grip on his hair loosening up. just a bit. he replaced his tongue with two fingers, slowly getting past that initial resistance before pushing them in and out of you.

even with his glasses fogging up with every heavy breath that he took and your slick covering his mouth and chin, nanami continued to push his fingers inside of you. coaxing out all the pretty little noises you were making. "you can be a little louder, no? just a little bit, sweetheart," nanami curled his fingers, drawing out a whine from your lips.

you dripped onto his digits with each thrust, the golden wedding band on his finger glistening against the office lights. "k-ken, don't stop," your nails dug deeper into his hair, messing up the time he took fixing it this morning. you weren't even sure what was louder anymore—the squelching in between your legs or your moans.

your thighs clamped tightly around his head, holding him in place. "open them, darling. you can take it, you even asked me for more," kento felt the way your legs trembled—the way you were almost hesitant to open your legs again. you were close. "too much, too much," your moan had come out louder this time—loud enough to bleed through the walls.

not that it mattered.

you felt that familiar pressure build up in your lower tummy, your legs threatening to close again all the while your toes curled against the leather heels. too much, you'd said, and you still found yourself needing even more. "cum for me sweetheart, you can take it. take what's yours," his words served as a final push, your orgasm washing over you like a wave.

nanami pulled his dripping fingers out from your cunt and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping them off. effortlessly, he wiped away the spit and slick dribbling down his chin before carelessly tossing the handkerchief to the side. like it was nothing more than just a bother.

your chest heaved as you leaned back against the desk, watching your husband stand up from his spot. a wet patch adorned the front of his khaki pants, his cock practically twitching against the confines of his boxers. "i think i'll just skip ahead to the main course."

needless to say, you didn't have any more trouble coming into nanami's office after that <3