#I barely finished my modeling final in time

[mustyrosewater]

𝖋𝖆𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞

𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖐 𝖈𝖆𝖒��𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖝 𝖆𝖋𝖆𝖇!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 11,658

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: meeting your long distance boyfriend over a ranked match of mortal kombat wasn't the typical meet cute you'd always dreamed of, but it seemed to work out perfectly.

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: descriptions of mortal kombat gore, phone sex, long distance relationships, SMUT, no protection (please use protection.), the angst that comes with having a partner over three hours away. probably spelling errors. no descriptions of the reader other than she has her nipples pierced.

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊: as soon as i saw that erik plays mortal kombat on my first watch, i immediately fan girled as somebody who's been a hardcore mortal kombat fan since i was like ten, this is the result of a hyperfixation and somehow smashing out 11k words in two nights, enjoy!!

“FINISH HIM.”

“Oh, fuck you man.”

The angered words of your opponent rung through your headset, finally deciding to turn on the voice chat feature as the deep-voiced announcer finally called out your win. 

On the screen in front of you, you quickly mashed in the quick-timed combination to spur on Mileena’s fatality against the Scorpion that this stranger was playing as.

Watching with a satisfied grin, the 3D-modelled character stabbed the other in the head with her two sai, spinning his head a few times before ripping it off in a satisfying conclusion to the randomly matched online battle. 

Whoever it was on the other end of the match, they seemed unsatisfied to take the loss elegantly, letting out a small string of muttered curses. 

“Uh uh, no way, that was bullshit.”

You hadn’t yet turned on your own mic, and a majority of the time you wouldn’t bother to accept the requests of rematches, but your curiosity was peaked as this person seemed so intent on trying to beat you again. 

ErikTheInkman.

Boring username, you thought, but based on the stats displayed under his username, he played frequently, just as you did. 

It couldn’t hurt to play a few more rounds and get a few more wins under your belt to potentially rank up, and he did seem pretty intent on trying to beat you.

Finally clicking the X on your controller to accept the rematch, you reselected Mileena in the character menu, just as you always did.

Of course, you dabbled in other characters, but she had always been your favorite, the one you sunk the most hours into learning to perfection, her move sets and combos ingrained deeply in your head. 

The newest Mortal Kombat was barely over a year old. Still, in that time you’d managed to rank up a hefty amount, sinking hours into your gameplay to unlock the cosmetics and even delving into buying some of the DLC they’d released.

You watched your opponent reselect Scorpion, seemingly also preferring to stick to a certain character as was the norm for most of the other people you played online with. 

Selecting a randomly generated match was something you did slightly less often, usually choosing to play with friends, but with the trouble of most of your friends living in different time zones and none of them being awake for the time being, you bit the dust and went into a randomly selected match. 

The characters spoke their little introductory quips to one another, something you always enjoyed watching before a match to get into the headspace you wanted, before it began. 

As the announcer called out the beginning of the match with a deep-seated “Fight!” erik the inkman, or whatever I’m his username was, sprung into action immediately.

His technique was a bit sloppy at times, but nowhere near terrible, you still had to concentrate to hold your own against him, but as the match progressed you could see him getting pissed off from the way he played. 

Winning the first round with relative ease, you heard him key his mic back on as the second round started. 

“Are you fucking serious!”

It was nowhere near the first time you’d experienced the wrath of a man’s emotions when you played online matches, keeping your profile name fairly androgynous leading to a slight decline, but it was also the reason you usually chose to keep your mic off. 

Continuing on to the second round, you noted him continuing to talk while the two of you played, something that you could not stand, finding it to be extremely distracting while you tried to concentrate.

“Why are none of my combo’s working, My fucking controller is broken i swear to god.”

You didn’t care for anything he was saying, hardly even taking it in as you carefully and hastily let your muscle memory guide you as you played. 

Hitting an attack at a particularly well timed moment, you almost jumped in your seat in excitement as it triggered one of the particularly gore filled X-ray sequences, watching the 3D rendered Scorpion to be pummeled by your Mileena.

“Oh, Fuck off!”

With only a limited amount of health left in both of your characters, you could almost hear him mashing the buttons through his mic, finally feeling yourself reach your wits end as you felt your concentration slipping, tapping the button in your head seat to unmute your mic. 

“Shut the fuck up!”

Your voice seemed to quite him initially, leaving you with just enough time to hit a fatal blow onto his Scorpion, not even bothering to trigger a fatality when the announcers booming voice spoke out, letting his character simply fall to the ground as the timer finished. 

Letting out a deep sigh, you adjusted your cross legged position on your gaming chair, realising that your sigh had been audible from the mic you’d forgotten to put back on mute. 

“Just, jesus dude. Calm down, it’s not that serious.”

You left it at that, not waiting for a response as you exited the match and finding yourself back on the main menu of the game, deciding this was a good time to take a break as any, feeling almost as if you’re blood pressure had risen just from that interaction. 

Holding up your phone, you leaned back in your chair and tried to check to see if any of your friends had messaged on discord, finding no new notifications present on the menu screen. 

Only able to let out another sigh, you chose instead to scroll through instagram, looking over whatever came up in your screen, family and friends posts flying across the page as you flicked through them mindlessly. 

The sound of a notification through your headset turned your attention away from your phone, seeing a notification popping up on the corner of the screen.

‘ErikTheInkMan has sent you a friend request.’

Furrowing your brows, you stared at the notification momentarily, confusion playing across your features and you leaned forward and clicked onto his profile.

A stereotypical profile picture of some crudely drawn skull was showing next to his username, along with his rank and stats.

Before you could look at anything else on his profile, a message popped up following the friend request. 

“GG.”

As you took a moment to scoff at the attitude of the guy who’d just sworn and basically had a tantrum, another message followed. 

“Sorry.” 

Look, even if it was only one word, there was at least some part of you that appreciated the apology, almost taking pity for the guy who probably just got a little bit too heavily invested in his gaming like a lot of people did.

Maybe that’s why you accepted his friend request. 

The acception of his friend request was the last thing you’d done before one of your friends finally messaged you to let you know they were getting on the game, starting the process of queuing up with them, forgetting all about the angry stranger for the rest of the night.

Relative nothingness seemed to follow for the rest of that night, no more messages from him or any other attempt of a rematch. 

Not until the next day at least, when you’d gotten home from work and decided to blow off some steam by jumping in again, knowing how unlikely it was that any of your friends would actually be online, but you still wanted something to do.

So when roughly fifteen minutes after you logged on, you got a message from ErikTheInkMan, asking if you wanted to play a couple more rounds, you accepted.

You don’t explicitly say yes, didn’t even respond to the message itself, simply sent him an invite that he responded to just as promptly, throwing the pair of you in a lobby to select your characters. 

Neither of you spoke at first, but as you scrolled across to select Mileena once more, you gambled a risk by unmuting yourself and speaking.

“Just don’t yell like a man child this time.”

When you said that, you immediately heard laughter ring through your headset, embarrassed laughter of somebody who’d made a fool out of themselves and knew it whole heartedly. 

“I really am sorry about that.” his voice began, having a softness to it you hadn’t had the chance to hear yet. 

“Most of the time people either don’t respond or they’re yelling back at me, kinda got a bit desensitised i guess?”

Letting out a small “Mhm.” you continued going forward with the match, the pair of you locking in your characters and continuing forward. 

You couldn’t have known you both would have continued on for hours playing, eventually delving into a conversation of light playful jabs, making each other laugh as your matches grew more casual, rolling with the even mix of wins and losses on both sides. 

“I’m gonna get you this time, watch out.” 

He spoke with an audible smile, actively in the middle of knocking off a large amount of your health bar through a series of combo’s 

“Oh sure, you can try, but you’re hopeless.”

You’re response only let out a low laugh on his part.

“Oh you’re in for it now.”

The time spent in countless matches seemed to offset your initial meeting all together, now finding yourself getting nothing but sheer enjoyment out of the banter the pair of you shared. 

So much so that by the time you’d actually spared a glance at your clock for the first time tonight, you’d let out a small “Oh shit.” with a laugh.

“What is it?” he enquired, that same audible smile present in his tone.

“I should have gone to bed like, two hours ago.”

As you both laughed at your realisation, you listened as he seemed to check his own time.

“Shit, same here. I have to open tomorrow, we fucked up.”

Your mind wandered for a moment thinking what he might do, a question that might have to be left for next time you spoke, if there even was a next time at the very least.

“Alright, well, i’m gonna head off then.” you kept your tone kind, not immediately offering to play again with him, just keeping it open enough without shutting it down completely.

“Wait, do you have discord?” 

His immediate enquiry made you feel the slightest bit shy, a smile coming to your face as you laughed softly.

“Yeah, i’ll message you my tag.” 

Going into the messages feature of the game, you double checked it on your other monitor, already having had it open from the beginning of the night, and typed out your tag for him to look you up. 

“There you go, okay, i really have to get to bed now though.” you laughed through your words, finishing up your conversation with a mutual good night and exited the game, turning off your pc and getting ready for bed. 

Neglecting to check your phone until the next morning, you’d seen the notification from discord, the banner reading that a friend request had been sent your way, the time reading to only a few minutes after you’d fallen asleep the night before. 

Still named as ‘eriktheinkman’ on discord, his profile picture was still of a macabre nature, some sort of sketched picture of a snake across a dagger, potentially drawn by him? you weren’t entirely sure.

Taking the plunge and sending the first message wasn’t something you’d usually do, but it was all you could think about as you could ready for work, taking only a few seconds to type out a quick “good morning :)” before promptly putting the phone face down on your kitchen counter. 

By the time you’d gotten a response, you were already at work, maybe he was a few hours behind you? you hadn’t asked specifically where he was from but he clearly had an american accent, what if he was canadian? maybe you hadn’t picked it the accent correctly.

You’d sat down at your lunch break roughly an hour after initially seeing the notification, finally opening it up to see what he’d sent in response.

“morning. how’d you sleep?” 

It was a standard response obviously, mundane yet still left you with butterfly’s in your stomach, something so simple.

“not bad, still managed to wake up to my alarms lol.”

You hadn’t expected such a prompt response, seeing his profile become active within less than thirty seconds before you could see him start typing.

“wish i was in the same boat. was late to work, client was already waiting.”

Smiling to your screen, you tried to guess what he might do for a living, imagining a plethora of different things in your head as you watched him start typing again before you could even respond.

“we should play again tonight if you’re not busy.”

his lack of any smiley faces seemed fitting to the person you’d already gotten to know, being an avid user of emoji’s and hearts amount other things yourself, it was odd to see, but already didn’t seem out of character for him. 

“i don’t think i am, i finish work at 6:30, it’s like 3 now for me.”

Now with the understanding he’d woken up late specifically, you wondered if your guess about him being a few hours behind you was still correct, your mind brimming with the possibilities of where he was from. 

“oh okay, that works, it’s around 2 for me now, i should be finishing up at 6 as long as my boss doesn’t pull any shit.”

There was your answer, only roughly an hour behind you.

The thought made you giddy for some reason, maybe just excitement at the idea of meeting a potential friend that actually lived in the same continent as you, much less potentially only being a few states away.

“sounds perfect :)” 

Just as quickly as it started, your lunch break was over, sentencing you back to your job which awaited you with open arms, unable to keep your thoughts away from erik the ink man, as you’d come to start calling him in your head. 

The night when you came home and jumped back onto Mortal Kombat within only minutes of walking through the door, a night of even more laughter and playful insults that you knew now were done innocently, seemed to have kickstarted a long distance friendship between you and erik, coming to know each other by name. 

As the months drew onward, it got to the point you were talking to erik almost every day, messaging him on your lunch break to complain about annoying customers, he’d do the same when he had the free time during his shifts, joking about the people that would come in asking him for infinity symbols, or sleeves consisting of lions, roses and clocks. 

His dry humour was the best part of your day, the way he’d poke fun at you and send sarcastic comments your way that only made you laugh and playfully insult him back. 

Even when you were just cooking dinner, you’d end up calling him over discord and filling him in about your day while he either closed up the shop for the night or while he laid down on his couch absentmindedly playing something else. 

It was a sense of peace to the end of your days, being able to chat with somebody you grew to consider a close friend, as well as having a gaming buddy that actually lived reasonably on par with your time zone.

When he’d first mentioned off handedly that he finished off a tattoo that’d been a few sessions in the making that day, instead of sending it to you over discord like he usually did, he told you to just look him up on instagram, stating that it was easier.

You weren’t even entirely sure what you were expecting your friend to look like, never having conjured up some image of him in your head previously, so going from a blank slate to the tatted up, dark haired and blue eyed guy in the photo, happily tattooing away, well it was a bit of an unexpected jump. 

“I guess it’s only fair you actually see what i look like now.” you’d mused to him, following the instagram that he’d sent to you, waiting for him to notice the notification.

It’d only taken about a minute and a half till you received a follow back. 

“You’re such a fucking nerd.” erik mused, only stirring a laugh from deep within you, no doubt seeing the pictures of your gaming set up and the pictures from within the comic book store you worked at, goofy faces made with your coworkers. 

“Shut up.” was all you’d been able to respond with, now having such a different type of feeling now that you actually knew what the person behind the voice looked like.

Of course you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, not that you’d ever admit that out loud. 

Every little sarcastic jab you threw at each other that felt like it carried even the slightest bit of flirting was now making you want to blush and hide your face like an idiot, always thankful that erik couldn’t actually see you. 

“I’m coming for you now.” 

Going from Mortal Kombat to a series of different games was now something you did quite often with erik, finding that you actually shared quite a few in common, finding that Dead by Daylight was a semi common one that you’d both suggest on the days where you gamed together.

“If you hook me i’ll moan.” you jokingly threatened, your mouth curling into a grin as you controlled your character, weaving over pallets and rounding corners as the killer erik was playing as found itself hot on your trail.

“Now i absolutely wanna hook you.” he responded, his killer gaining on your survivor at an alarming rate that had you letting out a little squeal.

“Oh get off my ass!” you laughed, there were still two other survivors he could be gunning for, but it made too much sense that he was targeting you specifically.

“Hmm, no. I was that ass specifically.”

His response only had you rolling your eyes, letting out a groan of annoyance when he downed you, his character picking yours up and walking towards one of the hooks that was close by. 

“No come onnn, let me cut a deal with you please.” you put on a mockingly begging tone, trying to button mash to get out of his killers hold. 

“You can’t whore your way out of this one.” he laughed through his words, hooking your character with no hesitation, the scream cutting through your headset as you put your controller down with a huff, only able to watch helplessly as the entitiy’s claws murdered your character.

“That was rigged, i refuse to accept that.”

“Now who’s having a tantrum?”

He was laughing just as much as you were as you watched the rest of the game play out, letting out a satisfied cheer when the last survivor escaped through the hatch, unable to be caught and murdered by erik’s killer.

“Yes! fuck you! that’s what you get!”

What had started as playful, slightly flirty insults initially, seemed to delve a bit deeper as time went on, going from unserious to being rooted in something unspoken between the pair of you. 

Now at the level of sending stupid little selfies to each other throughout the day, it’d been you who’d seemed to pull the first official check mate of whatever it was going on between you two.

You’d been getting out of the shower when your phone first vibrated, holding the towel wrapped around your body with one hand as you opened up discord to see him making a stupid face, obviously laying in bed judging by the messy hair and pillow behind his head. 

Obviously you could have waited until you got dressed to send something back, gotten into your pajamas and sent a similar selfie back from the comfort of your own bed. 

But you didn’t. 

Not even 100% certain of what you were doing, the sudden burst of confidence (potentially mixed with how goddamn pretty he looked in the initial selfie he sent you) seeming to prompt you to take a photo of yourself using the mirror, smiling softly as your wet hair and towel around your body was shown just enough to convey you’d only just stepped out of the shower 

At first, it’d taken him a little bit to respond, your anxiety was already telling you that you’d pushed it a bit too far, that this was the part where he ignored the picture or let you down easily, after five minutes of freaking out, you felt your phone vibrate again, opening the message hastily. 

“not even gonna lie, kind of wish you sent me that while you were still in the shower but i’ll take it.” 

He was still being playful, but it seemed like you were both in the same page, a mutual agreement now that there was definitely more to the flirting and the comments than just gaming buddies being silly.

Initially you stared at his message, biting your lip and now feeling completely unsure what to do from here, the sudden burst of confidence now entirely overshadowed by anxiety.

Before you could think to type anything or send another image, you watched an image begin to load up from erik, almost dropping your phone when you looked at it.

He’d obviously decided to take another selfie, his faded t shirt and boxers clearly in frame now, only seeing his mouth in the photo pulled into a slight smirk.

The clear image of his boxers also very clearly showed him half hard, the tartan pattern seeming to show every little detail through the thin material.

This was it, permission sent clear as day on his end, whatever it was that was about to happen between the two of you, he was giving you the green flag.

Overthinking the image more than you probably needed to, taking a moment to toy with the angles, you eventually settled on an image of yourself with the towel now falling a little bit more, your face slightly more in view than it was previously, sticking you tongue out in a mischievous way.

As opposed to previously, erik’s response after you sent the image came in much quicker this time, already seeming to make his frustration known.

“you’re making it really hard to be miles away right now.”

That was soon followed by a picture that was fairly similar than before, only difference being that why had initially been a half hard tent in his boxers was now standing far more, his hand resting on his stomach.

You could have done nothing but send photos back and fourth to each other all night, make it a painfully slow process, but there was definitely a build up that needed to be addressed, the comments you’d been throwing at each other for weeks now were starting to boil over, there wasn’t any room left to wait.

When you called him, he answered within a single ring, already hearing how deeply he was breathing. 

“You’re trouble.” were the first words out of his mouth, breathless and hurried. 

“Let me see you.” 

Calling him seemed to have opened the floodgates, any and all but if coyness and subtlety now thrown out the window and discarded by the both of you.

When you pulled your phone away and turned on your camera, the image of him soon followed, you’re smiling face being all the was in frame, biting your lip.

“Hi.” you whispered, unsure why, considering you lived alone, but he didn’t seem to mind, only smiling back at you as he slowly sat up in bed.

“If you don’t show me what’s under that towel, i’m gonna fucking burst.” 

His words felt like fire over your skin, it felt the slightest bit odd, about to show yourself to someone you’d never even met in the flesh, yet all with the comfort of how well you’d come to know him. 

Biting your lip to try and hide your smile, you held up your phone to show more of your body, now holding the towel across your chest, otherwise letting it hang loosely, hiding the parts of yourself that you knew he wanted to see. 

Even through the phone, you could hear his breathing get deeper and rougher, see the way his brows furrowed a bit as his eyes raked over your body with a laser focus. 

“Shit.” he whispered, seeming to sport a bit more confidence than you currently were, pulling his phone away from his face to show how he was currently palming himself through his boxers, no hesitation present on his features at all as his mouth fell open.

“I-I’ve never done this before.” you spoke, breaking the silence but showing no intentions of stopping your teasing, just finding yourself slightly unsure of what exactly you should be doing right now, overthinking what exactly it might be that he wanted you to do.

“Yeah? Me neither.” his words were a delicious mix of a huskiness and a grunt that had you already pressing your legs together “it’s okay, it’s okay.. just.. i’ll tell you what to do.. if you don’t wanna go any further, just say the word. okay?” 

God he was so sweet, so considerate, it only made you want to do this even more, wanted to see him touching himself to the sight of you, knowing how badly he wanted you. 

Nodding, you tilted your head and smiled, the innocent look on your face already having an evident effect on erik as he watched you through his phone, squeezing his cock through the fabric of his boxers as he moved his hand to slip under the waist band and start to play with himself lazily. 

“Need to see those tits, please baby.” 

The way he asked, begged to see you had you already starting to feel weak, like your stomach was doing cartwheels, barely even leaving you enough brain power to concentrate on letting the towel drop away from your breasts, using your now free’d hand to squeeze them for him, running your fingers so softly along the underside, running across your flesh in a way that seemed to spur an audible groan from him, especially when he saw the barbells that sat through your nipples, watching as his eyes locked into them immediately. 

“Jesus, when were you gonna tell me about those..” 

For a moment you were too sheepish to even speak, running your thumb over the peaks and letting out soft pants through your open mouth. 

“Not really an easy thing to just mention out of nowhere.” you laughed softly, watching as he shook his head softly, seemingly sharing your sentiment of being lost for words. 

“Fuck, you have no clue how much i’ve thought about you like this.”

Biting back a shy smile, you shut your eyes and let your mouth fall open as you run your hand along the soft flesh of your tits. Knowing that you were producing that much of a reaction from Erik purely from him seeing these parts of you, it would have been a lie if you’d said the feeling wasn’t a little bit addictive.

“Pinch em’ a little, please baby, just like that.”

His words caused your eyes to open back up, seeing that his face was now contorting into a mural of different expressions, the struggle to keep his eyes open visible on his face as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. 

As much as you were shy, the idea of doing these things in front of a camera making you feel weak, the adrenaline was out weighing it completely, the image on your phone screen of Erik pulling down his boxers with one hand, all to reveal..

“Oh my god, is that-“

The silver ball’s of the curved barbell sitting snugly inside the reddened tip of his cock caught the light of the camera and glinted softly in the dark room he was in.

Your words brought a croaked laugh out of his chest, turning the camera back to his face and smiling as you could see his shoulder moving while he pumped himself slowly and lazily. 

“Guess I can't give you any shit for not mentioning hidden piercings now..”

All you could do was nod your head and let out a small “uh huh”, already feeling hypnotised by the sight of him running his thumb over his tip that was met by the silver ball of the barbell. 

“Fuckin’ hurt like a bitch, worth it though.”

His chesty laugh sounded like liquid velvet to your ears, it made it seem like this wasn’t real at all, like you were just having a wet dream about someone you’d come to consider one of your best friends and that you were gonna wake up any second and you’d be back to nothing except flirty remarks and unspoken attraction. 

Except this was definitely real, when he turned the camera back to his face, his mouth hanging open and his chest rising and falling deeply, you knew your own brain was incapable of conjuring up an image like that. 

“Let me see those pretty tits again, don’t be selfish.”

You knew he wasn’t being genuine with his remark about you being selfish, it only made you smile more, bringing your phone back to an angle where both your face and torso could be seen, continuing to play with them for him, trying to hardest to put on a show, a private one that was purely for yours and his eyes. 

“Erik..” you practically mewled his name out, your voice shaky and unstable, only seeming to get more of a reaction out him, his shoulder moving in a way that signalled he was starting to pump himself faster. 

“Fucking- god, say my name again.” 

When you repeated his name, letting it come out similar to a prayer to a god, breathing it out so that it sounded like some sort of arcane word that had unknown power over him. 

You watched his eyes squeeze shut and his head fall back on his pillow, his mouth hanging open as he continued to let out a series of throaty groans that rose and fell in pitch at a rapid pace. 

“Holy shit, holy shit.”

Knowing that something as simple as saying his name could have this much a reaction from him, the power you held, it just made your mind swim with the possibilities of what it would be like if he was here with you right now, or you with him. 

You pictured laying down on his bed, making a mess of his grey coloured sheets as he took you from behind, how it would feel to have his strong hands gripping your hips as he pounded into your womb at an unforgiving place.

When your hand had made it’s way down to your clit, you couldn’t even remember, too wound up in chasing your own release to even try and keep track of how long you’d both been sitting here watching each other play with yourselves. 

All you were aware of was how close you were, letting the thoughts of what you’d let him do to you drive the rest of the fantasy in your mind, the idea of him putting that pierced dick inside you and filling you up to the brim with his cum seeming to do the job perfectly, feeling the tightness in your stomach begin to wind itself together.

“Erik, Erik, i think i’m gonna cum.”

“Yes baby, please, fuck i wish i was there, i wanna cum inside you so much, oh my- fuck!”

His own noises were cut off my silence as you watched him seem to still for a moment, only to start moving again at a much slower place, his head rising up while he suddenly began to make noises again, coming out as high pitched cries he seemed to cum all over his belly from what you could see as the camera started to fall out of frame, rolling up to show half of his face and the wall behind him. 

It hadn’t been long for you to follow, the sounds he made proving to be the perfect final little bit of a push you needed in order to be plunged into the cooling pool of an orgasm that had your toes curling and your thighs shaking. 

Falling back from your position sitting on the edge of the bed, you felt your back hit the blankets and stared up at the ceiling as you started to come down from your high, suddenly becoming aware of the fact your heart beat was pounding in your own head, shutting your eyes and just letting the sound of your own panting be accompanied by the sounds of Erik’s own coming from your phone.

You must have sat there for at least another thirty seconds or so, cause eventually you heard Erik’s words coming out with soft laughter. 

“You still alive?” he asked, only just now realising your phone had been abandoned next to you, no doubt now facing your ceiling. 

“No.” you responded, only resulting in another laugh ringing out from him as you finally sat up, grabbing your phone and rolling onto your stomach, holding it back up so you could Erik again, who was now standing once more and seemingly cleaning his own release off his stomach with a tissue. 

“Must’ve died and gone to heaven.” 

You let your face fall forward onto the blanket as you laughed at his words, looking back up to see him looking at the camera once more and smiling softly, looking at you as if you were a piece of art. 

At first there was nothing but silence as you watched him sit back down on his bed, running a hand over his face briefly, as if you were waiting for each other to speak first and address what just happened. 

“What did we just do?” you asked, letting a sigh leave your lips and your brows furrowing as a confused smile crossed your features.

“Well, i hope i’m correct in assuming this..” he began “But i think we just did something that was a long time coming.” 

Looking at you expectantly, you waited for a moment before nodding, embarrassment suddenly flooding through you as you realised how long you’d both let this play out because you were both just too stupid to communicate. 

“Yeah, that checks out.” you laughed, standing up and letting the phone rest on your night stand as you pulled out your drawer and grabbed a pair of pajamas to get closed into it, pulling a pair of shorts on and stepping back into frame as you pulled a shirt over yourself. 

“Careful, my dicks still really sensitive, don’t start her back up again.” he joked, making a pretend pained face as you smiled, his sense of humor seeming to have come back after the post orgasm clarity. 

“Her?” you questioned with a smile, only for him to nod. 

“Of course.” he responded as if it was obvious. 

-

A long distance relationship wasn’t something you’d ever thought about in great detail, at least not before Erik; yet it was something that just seemed to work perfectly for the two of you, for the most part. 

There wasn’t a whole lot of change in routine, other than your gaming sessions and late night phone calls finishing up with “I love you”s and occasionally more instances of the two of you getting off over video call.

It was quickly evident just how insatiable the both of you were, sending Erik photos with your shirt pulled up while he was at work knowing how much it was going to drive him crazy, just the same for him to send you videos late at night of him lazily jerking off when you didn’t have time to call him. 

There’s only so much that can be done when you lived at least three or four states away, when the video calls weren’t enough anymore, you graduated up to remote control toys, a vibrator he could control using his phone, which he had used more than once to get the upper hand during a match. 

“Oh, eat a dick!” you’d yelled with a laugh, practically bouncing in your gaming chair as your team got the upper hand, ready to secure yet another win against the team he’d been playing against. 

Yeah well, it’s all fun and games until he decides to turn it all the way up out of nowhere, a soft shriek leaving your lips as you feel yourself flying forward, the hands holding your controller beginning to shake as a bruising amount of vibration descends upon your clit. 

“That’s not fairrrr!” you’d whine, turning to look at the screen where you had your webcams set up, only seeing Erik grinning like a smug idiot as he puts his phone down and picks his controller back up. 

That’s also great, amazing actually, but it gets to a point. 

When that point is almost eight months into officially being a couple, finally being introduced to his siblings when they poke their heads into frame, waving to them and letting Erik introduce you officially as his girlfriend who just happens to live over a thousand miles away. 

His sister followed you on instagram, already starting a steady routine of sending you funny reels and replying to your posts with hearts and smiley faces. 

His brother seemed to love you, always being heard asking if he could say hi in the background when you were talking to Erik, each and every time making an effort to ask you how you were going, the biggest sweetheart you’d ever met in your life. 

You hadn’t been there when Erik had told his parents about you, but you had gotten a text from him to let you know that his mother and father really wanted to meet you, or at least, talk to you over a video call. 

No matter how much he reassured you that you had no reason to be nervous, that he’d already shown his parents pictures of you and gushed non stop to the point that they already were voicing how excited they were to finally talk to you, you were still pacing back and forth while you waited for Erik to call you. 

Absolutely nothing in this world could have prepared you for how amazing his parents were, how kind they had been, the way they’d smiled so brightly when you started the call like they were more excited to see you than even Erik was. 

When Erik’s father had patted him on the shoulder, gushing about how happy he was that his son had found such a nice girl and how proud he was. 

You knew Erik liked to put on a tough guy front, but the way he smiled while his father praised him, the sight warmed your heart in such a way that you’d never felt before. 

His mother was the sweetest woman you’d ever had the pleasure of speaking to, asking you so intently about yourself, it hadn’t taken long for you to just fall absolutely in love with the rest of Erik’s family just as much as you were head over heels in love with him. 

Maybe that was why the distance had finally started to get to you, the desperation to feel something as simple as holding his hand but knowing that you couldn’t, it had started to boil over for you, coming to a head at the end of one of your many phone calls. 

“Alright, i gotta go to bed baby, it’s already so late.” he laughed, hearing the soft shuffling of him rolling over in bed. 

The time on your clock read close to 1:30 AM, not an unusually late time for you guys to finish your calls, but you knew he had to open the shop tomorrow, you knew he needed to actually be up at a reasonable hour. 

You really did just wanna say good night, tell him you’d see him in the morning, but the words couldn’t bring themselves to come out, all you could do was sniffle softly as you felt tears welling up in your eyes.

“Baby?” he asked, concern already starting to lace his voice when you didn’t respond, even more so when he could hear that you were audibly in the brink of tears. 

“I hate this..” you whispered with a shaken voice, rubbing your eye with your sleeve as you felt tears already starting to stream down your cheeks. 

“What’s wrong? talk to me, are you okay?”

While it took you a moment to find the words, only able to release a small number of pathetic sobs as you could hear the way your boyfriend was starting to panic over the phone, you finally spoke, gathering yourself so that you could relieve him from the anxiety of wondering why you’d seemingly started crying out of nowhere.

“I just wanna hold you, I wanna hold your hand. We’re gonna hang up this call and i’m just going to lay down in this bed alone knowing your over a thousand miles away and there’s nothing i can do about it.”

Your words were wobbly, a vomit of feelings you’d spent the last few weeks bottling up, only to now all come out at once like an opening of floodgates that you couldn’t find the strength to get a handle on. 

At first you were worried about how he was going to respond, already imagining all of the things he might say in response to your sudden rant, when he was already tired and needed to go to bed. 

Letting out a sigh, he spoke.

“I know.” he began, his tone taking on a much more vulnerable tone than you’d expected, his voice coming in an octave higher than it was before. 

“I hate it too, god, you have no idea how much i just wanna hold you, it’s been getting to me too baby.” 

His words only seemed to bring on more tears, your face falling into your hands, all you wanted was to lay your head on his chest and cry it out, but you couldn’t even do that.

“We’re gonna get there soon okay? I’ve already been talking to my dad about trying to get time off work, it just needs to be planned, that’s all.”

Letting out one more pathetic little sniffle, you nodded your head, even if it was just a phone call, wiping your tears one more time as you tried to find something to say.

“I love you, you know that right?”

His words made a weak laugh bubble up from your stomach, always loving the way it sounded when he said it, always making you feel better straight away.

“I love you too.” you breathed.

“I’ll call you as soon as I can tomorrow, but you need to sleep baby, I can tell you’re tired.” 

You could hear the smile on his words as he offered you comfort, only able to wish him a goodnight and a good day at work tomorrow before you finally hung up the call for the night rolled over to try and get some sleep. 

-

When you’d gotten the phone call from Bobby, you’d initially thought that maybe something had happened, why exactly would he be calling you directly and not just either messaging you or getting Erik to call you; nonetheless, you answered.

“Hey Bobby, everything okay?”

You’re next best suspicion was that this call most definitely had something to do with the fact that Erik’s birthday was coming up in a few weeks, maybe he needed a hand with picking something, or he wanted to see what you were thinking of getting him, not that you could really send a lot unless you had it shipped. 

Just as quickly as you’d spoke, you heard Julia’s voice come through, realising quickly you were on speaker phone with the pair of siblings. 

“How soon can you get time off work?” 

With that conversation, a devious plan by Erik’s two siblings was set in motion, his mother partially being involved, they explained. 

All that you had to do was give them a time where you would be free and not working, and Brenda would book you a plane ticket. 

“We’re gonna give him the best birthday present of his whole goddamn life.”

-

The flight had been almost three hours, the final step in a two and half week long plan to hide any and all hints that you were going to be flying out from your boyfriend. 

It was already arranged that Julia was going to pick you up from the airport under the guise of running out to get a few things for the little party that the family had planned, all you had to do was make sure that your flight didn’t crash horribly and everything would be fine. 

You’d lied through your teeth when Erik had called you that morning, explaining that you were going out to go see some family and that there wasn’t any service where they lived, which he promptly bought completely and without question. 

He had no reason to doubt you of course, it was a reasonable enough excuse to have your phone off, considering it had already happened before when you went to visit family in the past. 

With Erik more than thoroughly distracted with the celebration for his birthday underway, as well as your flight finally landing, it was only going to be less than an hour before you were finally standing face to face with your boyfriend for the first time ever. 

The thought alone was already making your hands shake as you walked through the terminal dragging your suitcase behind you. 

When Julia had spotted you, you’d both been unable to hide back the squeals you let out as you embraced each other, already over the moon with finally being able to greet Erik’s sister, who’d come to embrace you wholeheartedly as a friend. 

“Oh I can’t wait to see the look on his fucking face!” she’d mused, taking your hand immediately and guiding you through the rest of the terminal and out into the massive parking lot where she’d helped load your suitcase into the trunk. 

The drive was by no means helping your nerves, knowing that with every meter you crossed you were getting closer and closer, even just knowing that Erik was only a thirty or so minute drive and not a whole set of states away? it was making you feel giddy and nauseous all at the same time somehow. 

Your knee was bouncing incessantly as the tall buildings began to slowly morph into suburbia, houses with bright green lawns flying past your window. 

You had no idea which house was the Campbells, so it was just a waiting game of when the car was going to slow down, your heart beating at a pace that made you feel like it was going to burst out of your chest and you’d die from a heart attack before you even got the chance to finally meet your boyfriend in the flesh. 

“I don’t know if i can do this.” you blurted out, fear evident on your face as you turned to Julia who only burst out laughing at the look on your face. 

“You’re gonna be totally fine!l she encouraged, taking a hand off the steering wheel to rub your shoulder. 

“Erik on the other hand? he might piss his pants.” 

Just as she said that, you felt the car slowing down, a house coming into view which she turned the car towards, pulling into the gravel driveway, which promptly made you feel like you were going to start hyperventilating.

Never before had you felt so much anxiety, yet at the same time wanted to break the window down and sprint to the front door and kick it open. 

So many stupid thoughts began to flood your brain, what if you didn’t look the same as you did on camera and he didn’t like you? What if he suddenly decided he didn’t want to be your boyfriend anymore? 

You hadn’t even realised you’d just been sitting there staring at the house in silence with a panicked look on your face until Julia spoke. 

“I just texted Bobby, we’re ready to go.” she grinned at you, unbuttoning her seatbelt and shimmying her shoulders at you excitedly. 

“Are you ready?” she asked, only finding yourself able to nod silently as you exited her car, pulling your suitcase out of the back seat and approaching the door at Julia’s side with shaky hands. 

Exchanging one more look, Julia grinned as she knocked on the door softly, being greeted by Bobby’s grinning face as he pulled you in for a quick hug. 

“Oh my god, you’re real!” he spoke with hushed excitement. 

You could already hear music coming from the backyard as the siblings began to sneak you through the door like you were a secret package that needed to be delivered without detection. 

“Okay, they’re in the backyard, let’s move.” Bobby spoke to you, letting Julia walk ahead and out to the backyard carrying the supplies she’d apparently been sent out to get. 

With a hand on your back, Bobby guided you to the backyard, light greeting you as you looked around frantically, spotting every member of the Campbell family one by one before finally landing on the back of a band shirt and a head of dark hair fiddling away with the grill. 

“Erik!” Julia called out, looking at you briefly with a grin “I got your present while i was out!” 

“Uh huh.” he responded, barely paying attention to his sisters words as he continued tinkering with the machine, not turning around just yet.

You felt like you were gonna be sick any second, jesus, turn around Erik, turn around. 

As if he’d heard your telepathic command, he turned to look at his sister, a bored look in his face as he expected to receive some sort of stock standard last minute present. 

The very second his eyes met you own, you’re terrified smile beaming at him from only a few meters away, his reaction wasn’t really that far off from what you expected.

“Oh my fucking god!” his voice was loud, his hands coming to tangle in his hair as he looked across at you like you weren’t real for a few seconds before he looked over at his sister. 

“Are you serious?!” 

You knew it wasn’t a bad yell, that he was probably just in shock, hell, you’d had hours to process this and you felt like you were still in shock yourself. 

Tears started flooding your eyes as soon as you heard his voice for the first time not coming out of the phone, when it seemed to dawn on both of you that you were here standing in front of him, physically here. 

Without hesitation, Erik only muttered one more quick “Fuck off.” astonishment still clear on his face as you both bee lined it for one another, crashing into each other so quickly you almost knocked each other over. 

There was no chance of holding back your sobs, loud and embarrassing but you couldn’t find it in you to care, you were finally holding him in your arms and you had absolutely no intention of letting go. 

“Holy shit, Holy shit.” his words were muffled from where his face had found itself tucked into the crook of your neck, still wobbled enough to where you could tell that he was also fighting back tears. 

Swaying in each other's arms to the point that you almost fell over more than once, you didn’t want to risk pulling away, fearing that you’d pull away and he’d no longer be there in front of you. 

Finally being able to pull away and look up at him, you could see how puffy his blue eyes already were, using your sleeves to reach up and wipe them away for him, the pair of you both laughing through your tears. 

“Happy birthday.” was all you could manage to croak out, letting yourself be cut off by the feeling of his hands on your cheeks, pulling you in as he leaned down to finally lay a deep kiss on your lips, something you’d both been itching to feel for months now. 

He tasted like the beer he’d been drinking, and his stubble tickled your lip but you couldn’t find it in you to care in the slightest, only feeling so completely and utterly overjoyed to finally be inhaling his scent and feeling his lips against yours. 

Pulling away, he pulled you against his chest all over again, letting you wrap your arms around his middle as he rested his chin on the top of your head. 

“I fucking hate you guys so much.” he laughed, the family erupting into laughter at his comment. 

-

The entire span of Erik’s birthday celebration had been spent by his side, not allowed to leave his side for even one second. 

When you’d been speaking with Bobby and Julia, he stood behind you with his arms around you and his chin resting on top of your head, and when you sat to finally have a proper meeting with his Dad, he sat by your side and kept his hand on your leg. 

He peppered your face with kisses as you both just stood there holding each other, letting you explain every step of the elaborate plan you and his entire family had hatched behind his back. 

“So you did this all behind my back, and still managed to keep it a secret?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief as you nodded.

Leaning forward to place yet another kiss on your forehead, he just smiled down at you like you were a gift from god.

By the time the celebrations were wrapping up, it was almost midnight, and everybody was more than tired enough to be pretty desperate to hit the hay. 

As you said your goodnights, gave his mother a hug and a kiss on the cheek as she told you how happy she was that you were finally here, you could see Erik coming over with your suitcase, an arm coming around your shoulder. 

“Let’s put this up in my room.” he sighed, obviously quite tired himself from the day. 

Heading up the stairs trailing behind Erik, you watched him open up his bedroom door and were finally greeted with the sight of the bedroom you’d only ever seen in the background of your video calls, seeing it in person hardly even felt real, finding yourself giddy all over again. 

Standing there in the middle of the room for a few seconds, it hadn’t been long before you felt arms wrapping around you from behind, Erik letting his forehead rest on the crook of your neck and he took a deep breath of your scent in, letting out a satisfied groan. 

“I still can’t believe you’re here.” he spoke, only making you smile brighter as you turned in his arms, facing him and letting your forehead rest against his own as you both closed your eyes. 

“I can’t believe it either.” 

Resting your hands on his cheeks, your eyes remained closed as you captured his lips in a soft kiss, just letting them rest there as his arms around tightened. 

As innocent as it started, it had only been a few seconds before Erik was already deepening the kiss, neither of you showing any form of hesitation as you began to embrace each other. 

His hands found their way to your waist, starting to squeeze at your flesh as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip, the desperation you held for each other was finally able to reach its fullest form now that you were finally alone.

Opening your mouth up to him, you tasted the beer and cigarettes on his tongue, even the slight aftertaste of sweet birthday cake that had been cut up for everyone, exactly what you imagined he’d tasted like. 

In any other instance, you both would have taken your time, but it would have been stupid to assume that there would have been any kind of patience shared between you right now, Erik’s hands were already finding their way under your shirt, leading you to where his bed sat in the corner of the room.

As soon as the back of your knees hit the bed, you let yourself fall onto it with a soft laugh from Erik, his knee finding its way between your legs almost as if it was an instinct, like you knew each other's bodies perfectly even if this was the first time you’d even touched each other. 

The desperation shared between the two of you was borderline pornographic, gripping each other like you were going to fall away any second, Erik pulling away only for a second to tear off his shirt like it was burning his skin, before moving to his belt buckle with shaky hands. 

You worked at your own clothes, comfortable for the sake of the long flight, coming with the benefit of also being easy to remove. 

As Erik came back down, you were halfway through removing your shirt, something he was more than happy to help you with, throwing it onto the floor of his room with no regard as to where it landed. 

“I need you.” you whispered against his lips that had found their way back onto his own, his grip on you tightening in response to your words, almost so hard it hurt, a groan coming from deep within his throat. 

“I know.” he breathed out, his hands wasting no time before moving to the waistband of your pants, pulling at it until you raised your hips slightly off the mattress, leaving you laying there in nothing but a tank top and panties, a sight that had him simply staring down at you in silence, panting. 

He looked at you like you were made of clouds, like with just one more touch you’d fade away any second, this was more than just lust driven hunger, there was an unspoken need between the two of you, desperation to feel each other in a way you could only imagine until now. 

“There’s so much i want to do to you right now.” he huffed, running his fingers lightly against your chest, his hands coming to lazily grab at your tits, running his thumb against one of your hardened nipples that was now poking against the thin fabric of your tank top, only eliciting an open mouthed moan from you, a whimper that came out in a way you weren’t even conscious of. 

“But all I can think about is burying myself so deep inside you that you see stars.” 

His words, the image they out in your head, it had to keening for him and grinding your pussy against his knee like an animal in heat, but you couldn’t even find it in yourself to be self-conscious about it, you were just as desperate for him as he was for you, if the hard form now running against his jeans was anything to show. 

“Please, baby, please.” 

Your words had him gripping your legs tightly, pulling away from you only briefly, hooking his fingers into your panties to take them with him as he backed away, kneeling on the floor and pulling you harshly to the end of the bed.

Unable to hold back the small squeal as he pulled you and hooked your legs over his shoulders, you both found yourselves laughing like kids at a sleepover, his index finger coming to rest on your lips.

“Shut the fuck up, jesus.” he wheezed, leaning forward to give you one more quick kiss on the lips. 

“You gotta be quiet, can you do that for me?” he asked, leaving you to respond with a nod as you bit your lip, raising yourself on your elbows briefly to watch him sink his face between your legs. 

The second you even felt his stubble tickle your thighs, much less the feeling of his tongue licking a long stripe across your pussy, your head tipped back and your mouth fell open, a silent scream escaping as he dove in to devour you with little hesitation. 

Fuck, you’d waited so long for this, any thoughts you may have had about how this was going to feel were absolutely nothing compared to the real thing, nothing you could have conjured up in your mind was anywhere close to how earth-shattering it felt for him to run his tongue through your folds. 

The sounds were sloppy, ringing in your ears along with a choir of guttural moans coming from Erik’s end, like he’d been stuck in a desert for days and only just now had gotten his hands on water. 

He lapped at you like he didn’t want to waste a single drop of you, gripped your thighs so hard that you knew for a fact there was going to be red marks by the time you were done.

When his hands hooked under your knees, pushing them forward without warning so that they were nearly next to your ears, he pushed his tongue into you with no mercy, the feeling of him fucking you on his tongue having you feel like you were about gush right then and there.

For a moment or two, you could have literally sworn you went blind, a hand flying to your both to try and hide the absolutely pathetic sounds that were coming out of you, your other hand coming down to tangle through his soft dark hair. 

“Come on baby, cum on my face, fucking do it.”

His words of encouragement had been more than enough, paired with the feeling of his fingertips landing on your clit to rub fast and quick circles, his tongue going in and out of you, you felt your entire body still, your thighs instinctively trying to push together only to be held open by his strong hands. 

He kept going until you were pulling at his hair trying to get him to stop, letting out soft mewl’s of overstimulation, the muscles in your stomach were still turning, your pussy still pulsing by the time he came back up to be face to face with you.

His chin was glistening in what little light there was in his room, a grin on his face that matched his blown out eyes, so dark that they almost looked black. 

You couldn’t even form words, your orgasm had wrecked you so much that all you could do was let out little hums, kissing him lazily when he leaned down to take your mouth against his. 

As you made out with him, you already began to feel him running the tip of his cock against your folds, gliding along the flesh that was now absolutely soaked, so wet that you wouldn’t be surprised if you hardly even felt him slide in at first. 

“Can I put it inside you, please baby, please let me put it inside you..” 

He whispered and begged against your lips, the cold feeling of the metal from his prince albert against your sensitive clit already having you spasm softly underneath him. 

The only thing you could do was nod, finally opening your heavy lids to look up at him and just stare into his bright blue eyes that stared back down at you. 

You could tell how much he was holding himself back, letting his cock get swallowed up by your pussy, his mouth falling open as the warmth embraced him, a choked out moan falling from deep in his chest. 

Your hands came to rest on his cheeks once more, your foreheads connecting and eyes shutting tightly as he slowly let himself bottom out; as much as you’d always heard people describe it as feeling like they were literally molded for one another, you’d never actually taken it seriously. 

But now you knew exactly what they were talking about, when he finally sat completely inside you, his pelvis resting snugly against your own, it truly did feel like two puzzle pieces coming together, like you were completely filled by him in every meaning of the word, every crevice being filled in by him to complete satisfaction. 

Even you weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting there before he finally started to move his hips, it could have been seconds, it could have been minutes, but time just seemed to move differently when he was inside you, you fluttered around him, every time you did making his hips stutter. 

The pace he initially set was slow, but hard, barely even pulling out halfway before he pushed back in again, each time managing to hit that sweet spot deep inside you like he’d been doing it for years, like he was a master of his art. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, his forehead found itself resting against your collar bone as he thrusted into you repeatedly, rhythmic grunts and whimpers coming from him in time with each time he pushed it back in. 

“Erik, baby, please.. harder…”

There wasn’t anything else you could have said to have had him change up so quickly, a growl finding itself from deep within his chest as he rose up from his spot on your collar, his eyes appearing to be almost glazed over as he wasted no time beginning to increase the pace of his thrusts.

Looking up at him, he held himself up with one hand, using his other to hook under your knee once more, bringing one of your legs up so that he could begin hitting even deeper, at even more brutal speed, your hand immediately coming to grip his arm tightly as you let out a choked gasp. 

When you’d asked him to fuck you harder, you should have known that meant almost having the wind knocked from your stomach, small sounds leaving you in a way that you couldn’t control. 

He was pulling almost almost entirely out of you for each thrust now, his tip just on the border of falling out before he slammed back inside, a wet slapping sound ringing out with every single time he rammed himself back into you at a pace that had you beginning to see stars just as he’d said, now finding yourself unable to control the moans coming out of your mouth.

His hand that had been holding your leg flew to cover your mouth, silencing you only slightly as he stared down at you, shaky breaths coming out of him as he set an absolutely bruising pace, almost like as much as he was trying to keep you quiet, he was also just as determined to have you crying out his name for dear life. 

“Been wanting to be buried in this pussy for so long” he growled, his eyes squeezing shut “just fucked my hand and thought about nothing but this.” 

The words he was spouting paired with the brutal thrusts he was laying into you were almost too much, you felt yourself getting dizzy as your eyes seemed to almost roll into the back of your head. 

“Fuck, fuck, i’m gonna cum..” he warned, his thrusts getting shorter and shorter as he pulled out less with each, but only continuing to get faster and harder as he twitched inside you.

“Gonna fill this fucking pussy up? huh? fill you with my cum?” 

All you could manage was a nod, his hand pulling away from your mouth, both of them now gripping your hips and fucking you at a borderline merciless pace as you just laid there and took it.

With a sudden stop, and a few more slowed shallow thrusts, he shut his tightly, his cock twitching as he started to paint your insides with hot spurts of cum, his hips shaking as he rode out his own orgasm with short slow thrusts, gripping your hips so hard you knew you were likely going to have bruises the next morning. 

For a while, you just both laid there, his forehead coming to rest once more on your collar bone,  the pair of you covered in sweat and so tired out you could barely move. 

You knew you should get up, probably try to make some sort of effort to get cleaned up, but with the fact that you were both seemingly now paralysed, also mixed with the fact that being locked in each others arms was incredibly peaceful, all you could do was reach for the blanket that he’d been pushed astray by your initial activities, and pull it over the pair of you, settling into a comfortable enough position where he still sat inside you.

Stroking the back of his head softly, he let out a soft hum that communicated to you that he was definitely comfortable, just as you were, a smile coming to your face as you kissed the top of his head. 

“Gonna have to shower in the morning..” you whispered softly, only getting another small hum in return. 

“Good, i’ll be ready to do this all over again by then.” he chuckled softly, his head finally raising up to smile at you, leaning forward to catch your lips in a soft kiss. 

“Can’t wait.”

[drawnstraws]

guess who learned the hard way that the 3d rendering software i use only supports NVIDIA gpus

[flwrkid14]

Casual Chaos: Tim Drake’s Makeup Stream

Danny, known to the internet as Nebula, had been teasing a special stream for weeks. Fans were buzzing with excitement and theories, especially when the announcement popped up: “Doing My Boyfriend’s Makeup!” Naturally, the chat erupted into chaos. Danny was pretty private about his love life, so this reveal had the fandom on edge.

When the stream finally went live, Danny greeted his audience with his usual laid-back grin. “Okay, today’s the day. Let’s see if I’m any good at this,” he said, spinning a makeup brush between his fingers. “But first, let me introduce you to my boyfriend.”

The camera panned, and there he was—Tim Drake, sitting there as if this was the most normal thing in the world. No big introduction, no fanfare. Just Tim, giving a small, nonchalant wave.

“WAIT. IS THAT TIM DRAKE???”

“Like… THE Tim Drake??”

“No way he’s dating Nebula, what is happening???”

Danny, fully aware of the chaos brewing in the comments, didn’t even acknowledge it. He just turned to Tim. “Ready for your makeover, babe?”

Tim shrugged, totally calm. “Let’s do it.”

As Danny started applying makeup, the chat kept freaking out, but the two of them acted like it was just another Saturday. In Gotham, though, it was a different story. The Bat's group chat was blowing up:

Dick: “TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE-WAYNE, EXPLAIN YOURSELF.”

Jason: “How does a nerd like you land Nebula of all people???”

Steph: “I AM CRYING. HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS?!!”

Damian: “This is unacceptable. Drake, I demand an explanation.”

Bruce: [Typing…]

But Tim? Unfazed. He ignored the constant buzzing of his phone and sat still as Danny carefully lined his eyes and added a touch of mascara, keeping up casual chatter with the stream.

“You know,” Danny said, holding up a shade of lipstick, “Tim’s got this effortless model thing going on. I’m just enhancing what’s already there.”

Tim raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I didn’t exactly sign up to be your runway star.”

“Wait… he’s actually REALLY pretty??”

“Tim Drake is hot, confirmed.”

“LOOK AT HIS CHEEKBONES OMG.”

As Danny finished the look, adding some extra blush and a light gloss, the reaction was immediate. The chat was losing it. Tim glanced at himself in the mirror, barely reacting. “Well… I don’t hate it.”

Danny leaned back, admiring his work. “Not bad, right?”

Meanwhile, back in Gotham, the bats were still going wild.

Steph: “Tim, you better show up to every gala looking like this from now on.”

Jason: “You’ve been holding out on us with this face, man.”

Dick: “This is ICONIC.”

Bruce: “We’ll need to discuss this later.”

Tim finally glanced at his phone and snorted at all the messages. “They’re never going to let this go, are they?”

Danny just grinned at the camera. “Probably not. So… next time, you'll do my makeup, right?”

The chat, of course, exploded all over again.

[sugarverse]

Hiii! I was wondering if I could request either long or short fic about Tenya Iida. Likes it can be set in a modern setting where's he's a senior college student who's majoring in business and he has to take one more class to get his degree. It just so happened that the class is in the art building, and it is figure drawing (aka nude drawing) . Since he's just now hearing of the extra class he has to take, he's suddenly shocked when the model is an old friend of his from back home, whom he had a childhood crush on. Not only does his feelings for her come back, but he also has to have 1 on 1 section with the model for educational purposes. I kinda want it to be smut and fluff or however you see it fit. Anyway, I hope it's enough+

hi babe! omg I love this idea I kinda went a lil crazy and made it way too long. I hope u enjoy :)!!

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

word count: 3.5k

mentions of: This is really just the fluff portion of it, kinda suggestive bc he pops a boner and leads to sex in part two. I think I’m going to make a third part simply so the two of you can go on a genuine date andsotheresmoreiidaxblackreaderouthere.

a/n: hells yeah that’s enough, hopefully I did what ya asked and so sorry I went overboard I have serious problems. here’s the smut part bc a 6.7k fic is doing too damn much but i can’t stfu my fault gang

moodboard here!

Tenya Iida.

4th year, Senior in college majoring in International Business and minoring in Spanish at Angelwood College of Arts and Sciences.

The visual arts building had only been a few minutes away from the business side of campus, which he gladly enjoyed the walk. This spring all he needed to finish was two gen ed classes, the rest revolved around his major and minor. His counselor helped set up his ‘missing’ classes before winter break considering he had to fly back to Japan to see his family for the holidays. He was ecstatic to learn all he needed was an art class with lab and a communications class. 

When he asked what the class entailed, all he was met with was “beginner artists learning anatomy.” It didn’t sound difficult, just draw what you see. It would be nice to try something new anyway. He was not much of an artist but like all things Tenya does, he planned to give this class his all. The first week had been pretty easy, learning how to draw what you see with the use of models, shapes, and lines. Nothing too hard to follow. He would practice drawing his friends on the sketchpad he bought specifically for the class as a form of studying in the free time he had.

He neverminded it for the most part, excelling his knowledge in different countries in his free time to get better at his major. Sure they could teach you the technical way to do things, but in the end, everyone is still human. It would be inconsiderate to do business with a country and know little to nothing about their culture! It took almost two weeks for him to finally be able to even start the art project anyway.

As time went on and the January snow grew less and less, it was time to start their first real project of the semester. One on One figure drawing. The class needed to fill out a form explaining their free hours due to the limited art space and everyone's different schedules. Tenya happily filled it out when it was posted, continuing to work on class work from the library so that the lecture room could also be used for said project.

Their professor had explained that in-person class would remain on Mondays and Thursdays. It just worked out better for the models and students to have so much space.

He made the small walk over to the arts building for his last class of the day, a small shine in his glasses as he entered the white light of the room. The walls were anything but bare, artwork and unfinished projects sat in every corner of the room. Paint racks, canvases big and small, even stacks of unused clay. There was a stool sitting on a small platform in the middle of the room, assuming where the model will sit. 

He stood next to the stool for a moment, looking up at the grey February sky through the skylight. The natural lighting was great, almost like a spotlight. He adjusted the lights in the room a moment, dimming them slightly so the white light hadn’t been so harsh on his eyes. He headed over to a more organized table, setting out the art supplies how he liked. He knew he was early, but he wanted to make a good first impression. What’s better than being on time?

He pulled out his laptop, checking that the few assignments for today were done and submitted. A small frown tugged at his lips as he realized he hadn’t finished something completely, typing in the last few answers. He always double checked, technology was reliable.. When it wanted to be. He couldn’t hear the shuffle of slippers against the floor over his typing and frankly, loud thinking. 

He could see someone walk past in a teal robe representing the university's colors. Glancing up from the computer to give the model a proper hello, Tenya opens his mouth to speak but pauses. 

“Y/n?” He asked, almost in a whisper in case he was wrong. A small look of confusion caused him to tilt his head to the side slightly. He hadn’t been able to see you for awhile with such busy schedules, but he knew your silhouette by heart. 

You turn at the sound of your name, mid sliding off the slippers and fumbling with the gold silk of the belt. “Tenya?” You smile, asking as you turn to slide your shoes back on and quickly shuffle your way over to him. He felt his face burn red, frozen in place for a moment with his jaw slack. He stood as if needing to detach from the seat, smiling at your happy demeanor and your quickness to wrap your arms around him. 

“It is you! I know those shoulders from anywhere!” You beamed, feeling his hovering hands slowly place themselves on your back to return the hug. He was very hesitant, simply because you were only in a robe. You pull away, hands resting on your hips and giving him a big smile. “Now what are you doin’ taking a figure drawing class, Mister businessman?”

He let out a sheepish chuckle, “I needed an art credit, W-What are u doing here?” He never had any classes with you at Angelwood, A few honors classes and gym in highschool but other than that, nada. Throughout the course of growing up, your interests drove you to different classes. 

However, classes don't matter when your families are as close as yours and the Iida family. Shared Holidays, playdates, game nights.. It wasn’t like you were some stranger. You both always made time to hang out a few times during the year to catch up without the family just to give a real check on each other. It was his favorite, almost like a mini holiday to talk to you.

He loved spending time with you. You were smart, articulated and incredibly creative. You never took slack from anyone.. Even in middle school he can remember you being the one to stand up and say something when things weren’t right. You were headstrong and determined in anything that you did.. Art majors always get a lot of grief but you never let that deter you. And that was admirable in itself! ..And he had always thought you were so pretty. 

He felt like a kid again, heart feeling as if it’d beat out of his chest at the mere sight of you. It had been around Halloween the last time he saw you, and here it was. Almost Valentine's day.. Still as pretty and bright as he remembered. Your next hangout wasn't for another month or so, so it was nice to see you sooner than that.

“I'm your model, silly!” You head over to the stool, continuing to speak. “The art department asked if I’d help in modeling and I said yes! People were too scared to sign up for the most part. I’m surprised this is the class you picked. Did you want to learn how to draw people?” You slide your slippers off once more, untying the cute bow on your hip that held your robe shut. 

Suddenly the room was very hot and he couldn't breathe. Now his heart really WAS beating out of his chest. He quickly did a 180, shielding his eyes and removing his glasses for extra measure. “WHY– do yoU have.. nothing on underrrrneath?” He croaked, voice cracking as his tone raised slightly.

You tilt your head at such a question, the gears clicking a little later than they should have. “Figure drawing is um.. Nude drawing, Tenya. You didn't know that?” You slide the robe back on, giggling at the flustered man across from you. You could see his shoulders tense, shaking his head slowly.

Now how the fuck could he have missed that.

“I um.. No, I didn't. I thought that it was.. I don't know what I thought. My counselor picked it for me and I.. Most models we've used so far have.. had skin colored undergarments… On.” He let out a nervous laugh, keeping his glasses off. He turns around, cleaning them with the end of his shirt but refusing to look up at you. He needed to mentally prepare his brain to be professional in a situation like this. Not that he minded the glance, he just never thought this would be how..

You prop your feet onto the edge of the stool, interrupting his thought. You held your knees up to your chest so he couldn’t see anything but your bare legs. “Oh Ten, I’m sorry! I can ask someone else to-”

“No! I am perfectly.. capable. It's professional and I can be.. professional..” He put his glasses back on, hand refusing to be steady as he did so. He let out a shaky sigh, smiling at you and finally looking at you once more.

You let out a small laugh at the blush on his cheeks. He was so handsome, but to see him so flustered over little ol’ you? It made your week. “We can start slow, that might help.” you slide the robe down your shoulders, slowly putting your legs back down so he could see your robed torso once more. You stopped at the top of your breasts, letting your collarbone show. “Do you have any specific poses..?” You ask quietly, trying to hold back your amusement.

He sits down, red faced and completely flushed. A nude model.. jeez. From sleepovers to recess, studying together to graduating, and now almost graduating for the final time together. That's something you don’t get to have in every lifetime. But why do these thoughts keep coming back to him now? 

There was no way he could still have romantic feelings for you. He’d never put your friendship at risk like that!

..right?

“I um.. yeah, small.” He cleared his throat, “Could you um.. Could you stand slightly off of the um.. Almost like getting up?” He fumbled over his words, staring at the empty paper as if he could burn the quick image in his brain onto the page to get the embarrassment over with. He sighed once more, trying to focus as he began sketching circles and lines as a starter sketch of the pose he wanted.

“When you need to draw a certain part I'll move it, Sound fair?” You ask, resting one foot onto the stool and one onto the ground. Your hand gripped the seat as your butt sat on the edge, similar to when people do that supposedly hot thing where they throw their head back and pull some weird rope to have water get poured on them. 

It was second nature at this point for people to see you. Of course some of them were flustered and it was pretty awkward at first, but normally not to the point of stuttering and stammering. It wasn’t often that you saw Tenya fall apart, but this was way different. Especially considering you flashed him without warning. He was one of the most endearing people you had ever met, there was no way you would have done that without proper context.

He could only nod in response, not wanting to further make a fool of himself. Lightly tapping the pencil against the table, He looks up at you. “You can um.. re.. remove the top part, y/n..” It was hard to simply draw your arms and collarbone without including the robe, so you might as well rip the band-aid off and start with the top. 

You nod, dropping it happily and letting the robe pull around your hips and between your legs. You close your eyes, facing up toward the skylight in an attempt to make him less nervous. “Sorry for flashing you at first, I would have explained but I assumed you had already known..?” You laugh quietly to yourself at your own mistake. Why would someone like him even take this class if he knew what it actually entailed?

And God, did he feel like a pervert staring at your chest like this. The boner poking his thigh almost immediately didn't help, making it even harder to concentrate. Way to keep composure. He pressed his lips together for a moment before speaking. “I had no idea, I’m sorry for my r..reaction.” He answered, stopping the pencil tapping to actually begin sketching more than just circles and lines. He hadn’t meant to yell, but he felt like he was close to passing out. 

“I think it was a pretty valid one.” You send a reassuring smile his way, seeing him send you one right back. Trying to ease the mood, you look back up at the ceiling and close your eyes to avoid staring at the ugly overcast sky above you. “How was winter break? You get to go home and see your family? How are they?” 

His smile grew wider at your question, scooting under the desk a bit more so that you hopefully wouldn’t notice his body reacting. “They’re great, Tensei is getting married soon,” He sounded excited at the thought alone, incredibly proud of his brother. 

“And my mother has started a hobby making soap, if you can believe it. She sent me some to bring back one that smells like lavender and another that smells like oranges mixed with I believe she said papaya.? She made a coconut smelling one for you– I was going to give it to you the next time we saw each other,” 

The sound of his sketching stopped and started as he spoke, giving your body small glances as he tried to study each part of your upper torso. The way your stomach creased, The way your shoulder was slightly lifted causing your collarbone to be more prominent, the curve of your breasts.. “How was your Holiday, y/n?”

“No way, Tensei is getting married?!” You accidentally stop posing, fully facing him in genuine shock. The robe was still covering your lower half, you had tied the belt to avoid accidentally flashing him again but here we are. You watch his face become even more red, eyes very obviously not meeting yours but still like a deer in headlights. 

You quickly get back to posing how you were, “Sorry Ten, That's amazing!! I hope everything goes smoothly for him and his soon to be wife.. And tell your mommy I said thank you for thinking of me. I can't wait to try it!”

A smile stayed on your lips as you thought about the times you’ve spent in the Iida household. His mother always had the best candles and incense burning, you were positive the soap would be the same. “My family is up to the same old shit, you know them..” You let out a small groan, the holidays weren’t an absolute disaster, but after not being home so long makes you remember why you aren’t going to school anywhere near home. 

“I did get some cool stuff for Christmas though! I got some new clothes and they got me a few art kits. You know, where it teaches you how to crochet? I also have a new diamond painting kit, I haven't opened either yet because it's just been so busy.” You replied, tapping your fingers on the side of the stool where your hand sat. 

You look up once more, this time because the skylight was beginning to be covered in snow. You watched as it fell, thinking back to old times when you and Tenya would spend the last three major holidays with each other. You’d always make sure to trick or treat together, your families have been sharing Thanksgiving for as long as you can remember, and spending the night in your basement on Christmas eve to wait for Santa until you were both too old. Then instead of waiting for Santa, you’d all eat at least one meal together on Christmas day. Sometimes homemade breakfast, other times a small trip to IHOP or Waffle House.

“God damn it.. It’s snowing again..” You let out a small laugh, looking over at him over your shoulder, fingers still tapping away at the base of the stool. “Hey Ten, Do you remember when we used to have those big snowball fights? The one near Red Fern?” 

“Of course I do! You refused to wear any kind of gloves and my mother would make you at least put socks on your hands so you didn’t get frostbite!” The two of you shared a small laugh at the memories of being young and dumb.

“Gloves always made my hands too itchy! They still do– But I kicked your ass in snowball fights with gloves or not.” You retort, a smirk appearing on your face. “Ice queen y/n of everything.” You could remember the insane snowball fights the neighborhood kids would have every. time. It snowed. If there was enough to make a few snowballs, there was enough to start a war. Tenya was always on your team, but it never stopped you from throwing a few his way. The ‘winner’ was King or Queen of the hill and first to sled down, which often enough was you.

“Remember when you almost broke my glasses throwing one right at my face?” He snickered, watching your smirk turn into a small pouty frown. He knew you didn’t mean to, that same day you helped your mom make cookies for him and his family as an apology, even though he wasn’t upset to begin with. But you knew it could have broken his glasses and you would be devastated if you were the reason for it. You were a real sweetheart, even if you had a weird way of showing sometimes.

“Hey! You know that wasn’t on purpose, I felt really bad after! I even let you get me back!” Which was true, but he never aimed for your face. Always a spot on your fluffy coat, never your legs because you hated your pants being wet… and a face shot just felt wrong to him. 

“Yeah, Yeah. I remember that part too,” He smiled to himself. “Those were really good times.. I remember Tensei always bringing us hot chocolate and we’d sit on your porch and draw things in the snow..”

“Oh! And when we’d come back all wet and mom already had spare clothes in her hands because she didn’t want it on the carpet. We’d put on too big clothes just to sit and watch Christmas movies..” You missed those times. But they never really had to stop, you two could have a huge snowball fight after this if you wanted to and the snow stuck. Was he too grown for that? Would it even sound fun to him?

“Do you still watch A Year Without Santa Clause every year?” He asks, breaking your train of thought. You nodded quickly at his question, grinning like a maniac. “Of course I do! And I watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas, Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer.. And sometimes Spongebob's Christmas Special. Do you still watch old Christmas cartoons?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t wanna ruin tradition.” He answered, pressing his lips together slightly as he stared down at the paper. You can tell he freezes a bit, the sound of his scribbling coming to a stop. He set the pencil down, rubbing the sweat of his hands onto his thighs.

 “You can um.. remOove-..” He quickly cleared his throat, “The rest.” He let out a disappointed sigh at his inability to keep composure. This wouldn't be half the problem it was if it was someone else modeling. But this is you we're talking about. 

“You sure? If you need a minute we can take a break, honey.” You gave him a sympathetic look, still smiling but this time more.. warm. The kind of smile someone gives to another when they genuinely care for them. Or love them for that matter. He adored it, it was the same smile you'd give him when saying he needs to take a break, the same smile you give him when the two of you out to get coffee and catch up. The same smile he's fallen for many, many times. 

But to tell you the truth? It’s driving him crazy. All of this. Was driving him crazy. No matter how hard he tried to be professional, he could stop his wandering mind. You were a goddess. What else was there to do besides take a break and hopefully release some steam in the bathroom or something. Completely inappropriate, but the pain from being hard for so long was starting to cloud the best judgment. 

He looks down at the sketch so far, then back to you as he rubbed his hand upward against his face. It pushed his glasses up, causing them to be crooked when going back down. “I um.. I think I do.. need a minute.” His voice died out as he watched you slide the robe back on, words failing him because couldn’t think completely straight.

© if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

thank you @thecutestgrotto for the banners and thank you @fizzintine for coloring the top pic!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[maeedrg]

The girl next door

Gojo x insecure fem reader

ᯓ★

Synopsis : in which you are a college student, and the roommate of Shoko. You meet Gojo Satoru, her friend, for the first time in a quite embarrassing way, and you directly can’t stand him. Loud, charming, handsome, flirty, teasing, everything to put you on your nerves. He kept joking around, hitting on you. But you were sure he was just playing. Because why would someone like him be interested in someone like you ?

Warnings : tooth rooting fluff, swearing, Gojo is a menace, some angst, insecurity, romantic comedy, slow burn, enemies (one sided) to friends, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, pet names, smut, praise kink, p in v, foreplay, loving sex, some Shoko x Utahime

Words count : 21k (that’s… a lot)

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : it’s my first fic that is over 20k words. I really enjoyed writing it so I hope you guys will love it too ! Not completly proof read tho, xoxo

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The first time you met Satoru was rather embarrassing.

It’s not been long since you knew your new roommate, Shoko. She was a very chill and nice girl, proposing to smoke with you, helping you with cores, cooking, and being very easygoing. She wasn’t often at the shared apartment. Either studying on campus, being a medicine major was quite hard (even though she told you she cheated a lot), or either hanging out with her friends.

You didn’t really know her friends personally. You only saw them on pics, pics that she posted on her personal social media. You remember thinking that they looked hot. A guy with white hair, that intrigued you. Another one with long black hair, that looked like a model. They both looked like models, actually. And others, girls and guys included. They all were insanely attractive, to the point that you thought you were like the black sheep of her pretty friends. That was mean to yourself, but you couldn’t help these small sentences of insecurity traversing your mind whenever you saw her new posts with them, or even when you kinda, you admit, went to stalk their accounts.

It didn’t take much for you to meet some of her friends, in the end. And maybe, maybe you wished it was in another situation. Because why the fuck you were sitting in your pajamas, next to the prettiest guy you ever seen, on your damn couch, on a wednesday night.

Let’s get back in time. Earlier that day, your roommate told you that she would bring two of her friends. You expected girls, since the last time it was one named Utahime that was hanging out in the warmth of the living room. So, once you came from your classes, the first thing you did when finally being back inside your apartment was to take a shower to wash off all the dirt that got accumulated through the day. After finishing to clean yourself with your favorite scented body wash, and all the routine that comes after your shower, you tightly wrap a towel around your body and open the door. You sigh, but then stop dead on your track.

“Shoko, where is the bathroom ? Oh- nevermind, I found it,” exclaims a voice, before you are facing a tall white haired man looming over you, raising his eyebrows and then grinning when seeing you. You gasp, realizing you were only wearing a towel in front of a total stranger.

“Oh my fucking god !”, you almost scream as you step back, and the stranger chuckles, raising up his hands to show he is clearly innocent. For a second, his blue orbs eye you down.

“Oops, sorry sweetie,” he says, turning around to give you some privacy as you felt the words die on your tongue at the surprise you had. You didn’t even react to the horrible nickname he called you, and quickly stepped to the side.

“You can use the bathroom, it’s free,” you say without waiting for an answer and dash towards the room, slamming the door behind you. 

You breathe heavily, wanting to bury yourself six feet underground. Alright, calm down. He barely had the time to see you. And the towel covered you enough. It wasn’t that bad… right ? You sigh, and then change in your pajamas. Even if you knew that Shoko brought friends that you clearly didn’t know, you didn’t want to bother to dress up for strangers. Comfortability was top priority, even more because of how tired you felt. Without further ado, you put on your clean pajamas. 

Satoru swore, from what he saw, even if it was only for a second, that he met an angel. His heart was beating abnormally quick as he washes his hands in the sink, and glances at himself in the mirror. The bathroom was filled with the scent of body wash, and some steam was glued to the atmosphere and the walls. Lord, he wanted to see more closely the face of Shoko’s roommate. He was curious, even more that he barely had the time to really look at her. Curiosity, yeah, curiosity, that’s all.

As you come back in the living room, you see Shoko smoking at the window, and at her side a tall guy with long black hair lazily half tied in a bun. He looks at you arriving, and as you turn your eyes, you see the guy from earlier. Sitting on manspread on the couch, oversized sweatshirt hood over his head, making him look even more comfy in his attire. His eyes lock with yours, and the corner of his lips stretches. Finally he could see what you really looked like. He stares at you.

“Here she is ! Sorry for earlier, uh…” he starts to say, tilting his head to the side.

“Y/n,” you answer, gazing back at him before not sparing him another one, going towards the table to take your phone in your bag. He nods to himself, repeating your name in his mind. 

“You really are a dick, Satoru,” groans Shoko, rolling her eyes. You smile at her, and she gives you back the grin.

“Violating the intimacy of a lady like that, that’s really not gentleman of you,” adds the black haired guy, and you can't help but let out a small laugh at his exaggeration. 

“Suguru, come on, it was an accident,” whines the so-called Satoru, pouting slightly. You couldn’t help but think he looked like a petulant child.

“I’m fine, I don’t care,” you clear out the situation, your hands in front of you to show that they could take it easy. 

“That’s good to hear,” smiles Satoru, and you look back at him for a second. You raise an eyebrow.

“Well, I’ll let you guys hangout together,” you annonce, ready to leave back to your own room. Not to add that right now, you were in your not so pretty pajamas, and you felt slightly embarrassed to be seen like that. At first you didn’t care, you just wanted to go fetch your phone discreetly in your bag, not wanting to dress up just for that. But you didn’t plan on starting a conversation with these strangers ! 

“No, stay y/n, so I can present them to you,” insists Shoko, as she blows the smoke of her cigarette at the window, and the black haired one inhales on his own, piercing purple eyes on you.

“Uh…” you start, unsure.

“We don't bite,” adds the so-called Suguru from what you heard the white haired guy call him earlier.

“Or maybe you’re too shy ?” taunts Satoru, and you frown. You let out a huff and sit next to him on the couch.

“I’m not,” you retort, and Satoru shifts on his spot to face you, leaning against the head of the couch and keeping his arms crossed, looking at you through his long lashes. Wow, up close he was prettier than you thought. Way too pretty, that was almost angering. On the other hand, Satoru was analyzing your face too, being able to look at it up close. You quickly turn your eyes away, thinking he maybe was looking at the imperfections on your skin. God, did the new pimple you had this morning was that big ? No way…

“These two annoying dickheads have been my friends since highschool. And this is my roommate !” explains Shoko as she points at the two guys, looking at you, then pointing now towards your direction when saying you were her roommate. All attention is on you, and you let out a nervous chuckle.

“Dickheads ?” asks Suguru, raising a disapproving eyebrow.

“The name is Gojo Satoru,” starts the white haired man without caring one bit for the nickname your roommate gave him. He smiles brightly, looking at your reaction and the way something glints in your eyes when you acknowledge what you heard by nodding.

“Geto Suguru,” continues his friend.

“L/n Y/n,” you finish.

Shoko continued the small presentation, and they all started to talk again. Either about highschool, back in time, their major, parties, or you. Gojo seemed eager to know more, asking questions, sometimes having no boundaries whatsoever with what he asked, but you quickly realized that he was just like that. You still were a bit on your guard around him. The way he so smoothly talked, being charming and overly flirty, made you think he was just a goddamn player. And that he never was really serious when talking to you. On the contrary, Geto was much calmer, to the point you wished that Satoru took some example of his friend. You didn’t know why, but the way they all engaged in conversation, you just were looking at them, barely participating. That pissed you off. Why were you acting like that tonight ? You felt somewhat intimidated, in front of Shoko’s friends. And that was the problem. 

“You single ?” Gojo askes out of the blue, leaning his chin on his palm as he slides his arm on the couch, eyes on you. Shoko and Geto were still at the window, talking together, even if they both ended their cigarettes minutes ago.

“Why ?” you retort, frowning.

“Can’t a guy ask ?” he muses, looking at you up and down. Wow, alright. Was he playing around ? To kill time with you ? You decide to indulge him a bit.

“No, I don’t have time for dating,” you answer, shaking your head after a sigh and bringing your left knee towards your chest.

“Wow, look at that, perfect match. I don’t do relationships either,” he says, lips stretching more and letting his white teeth to your seeing.

“I never would have thought,” you say ironically, teasing.

“Hey, are you saying I’m a player ?” he chuckles, clearly not hurt at all by the way you saw him.

“Kinda,” you admit, looking back at him, tilting your head to the side.

“Ehhhh, what can I say ? I have the charms that get the ladies,” he hums, narrowing his eyes.

“What a huge ego,” you raise your brows, hand on your chest to fake your chock.

“What ? You’re not interested ?” he asks, leaning closer and suddenly looking like he really wanted your answer on that question. One second pass as you both stare into the eyes of each other, one second where thousands of thoughts swirl in your head : ‘he really acts like a player’, ‘he asks that but he is not interested himself’, ‘it’s just for the joke and to boost his confidence if I say yes’, ‘but he kinda is hot, though’, etc.

“I barely know you, and you are the friend of my roommate,” you end up somewhat refusing.

“Ah, what a bummer… Here I thought I had my chance,” Satoru pouts, leaning backwards and the hood of his sweatshirt falls a bit more on his snowy hair.

“Poor you,” you roll your eyes and stand up from the couch, dusting your pants. You do a sign to Shoko that she sees from the corner of her eyes.

“Whatever, I need to study in my room, see you all,” you wave, Suguru says good luck and Satoru doesn’t say anything as he bites his thumb looking at you while you walk away, leaving an empty spot on the couch next to him.

Satoru was wondering. Why was he so… intrigued ? 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

You were sitting in the library of the university, busy studying for your upcoming exams. It was rather quiet, even more quiet when you were the last one left before the closing hour of the campus. Students went back home, busy with their daily life. Well, you didn’t want to study at your apartment. After what happened last time, you were quite nervous at the idea that Shoko could have brought her friends. 

It’s not that you didn’t like them, just… you felt overly quieted down. And you hated it. You weren’t as comfortable as usual when being with your usual group of friends, or with Shoko being only the two of you. You were quieter, less sociable, and everything that came with your personality. But God, Gojo was so… eccentric, his personality was louder than yours at first glance, and it directly outshined you the moment you met him. It kinda made you hold a grudge. Maybe you weren’t honest with yourself ? Maybe you just were nervous in his presence ? And for fuck’s sake, you despised feeling nervous because of a man. Geto, on the other hand, wasn’t as loud as his white haired friend, gentler and giving more of his attention, but he made you somewhat nervous too because of his aura and intense stare. What a deadly duo they were.

Ugh. You try to concentrate back on work, tapping your pen on your paper, looking at the empty table you were sitting at. But then, the quietness of the moment gets interrupted not because of your thoughts, but because of familiar voices. The one of Shoko, and her two other best friends, with other persons that you didn’t recognize.

“Y/n, you’re here ?” says your roommate, surprised, approaching you as in the back you are met with the piercing blue eyes of Gojo. He looks at you up and down before snapping back his attention to someone making a joke and laughing heartily at it.

“Yup, studying. Didn’t expect you to see you here right now with all your friends,” you answer, stretching your back as you look at the brunette, and she smiles, sitting next to you when taking a chair.

“They wanted to come to the library too, to study, but I don’t trust Gojo to do his homeworks for one second,” she explains, rolling her eyes and winking at you. At the same time the white haired male turns around and wraps his arm around the shoulder of Shoko, standing behind the two of you. You could smell his cologne by how close he was, and he munches on a minty chewing gum, the fresh scent filling your nose.

“What ? Hey, I can be very serious when needed ! You hurt me here, Shoko…” he whines, and then glances at you, giving you a grin as the corner of his lips stretches even more when noticing the way you frown. You look back at him, but forget to answer his smile because of how mesmerized you are- no, wait. Mesmerized ? No, no. You were just distracted for a second here… You look back at the other part of the people gathering around the table, Geto sitting in front of you and throwing a pencil to the head of his best friend.

“Quite it. And come sit to study, instead of joking around,” he sighs saying that. Gojo grabs the pencil, groaning and huffing, standing back up and sitting next to the black haired male.

“Yes wifey,” he rolls his eyes, answering. 

You keep your gaze on your paper, and try to not listen too much to their small talk about their exams, keeping your mind focused on your own work. Other girls sit around, with a few guys. The at first lonely table was now full, to the point that they had to bring new chairs. You were slightly squeezed in between Shoko and another guy. You sigh deeply, and can’t help but look at the corner of your eyes the way Gojo so easily engages conversation with the others on the table. Cracking flirty jokes, making some of the girls fawn over him before Geto reprimands him. Everything looked so easy for him. As if his tongue was velvet, words rolling down off his mouth.

Satoru kept having his eyes looking at your attempt of concentration, the way you were biting on your lower lip, or sometimes glaring at him when he was being too loud. He saw it all, and he couldn’t help but want to see more of this facial expression, slowly getting addicted to the deathly and annoyed glare you threw at him when he was laughing a bit too much and stopped you from studying silently. 

On the other side, you noticed nothing of that. You even felt smaller than ever, like an intruder in this group of people that knew each other and joked and flirted along so easily. Outshining you. Aside from Shoko, you didn’t understand why they were even sitting here with you. I mean, there were plenty of other free tables. Every other table, actually, since the library was empty aside from you when they arrived.

You look at how Gojo is lazily leaning against his chair, legs sprayed and crossing his arms over his chest as he grins at what one of the girls of the group is saying. Suguru participates in the conversation, apparently being about a group project for one of their courses. Shoko throws anecdotes to what happened last time they did a group project back in highschool. Right, you totally remember that too… That was ironic, you had no fucking idea what they were talking about, and you felt even more left out and pissed off. Why bother sitting here if you don't even get included ? Aside from Shoko asking you earlier if you wanted her to cook dinner for the two of you, that you happily accepted.

But fuck, this damn ass smirk at the corner of the lips of Gojo is pissing you off so so much. You tap your pencil against your paper more frequently, again and again as he cracks another joke that makes some of the other persons giggle. You sigh, and he looks at your facial expression. Damn, you looked cute.

As Gojo laughs loudly at what Suguru said, balancing himself on his chair, you finally snap and bang your pencil on the table and look at him sternly.

“Can you stop being so loud ? I can’t concentrate since earlier, and it’s pissing me off. Either you shut up and work, or you go be loud as you want but outside the library,” you exclaim, which makes everyone look at you quite surprised. Satoru has his eyes open wider, and he swore that he just felt like you stole his heart at your tone of voice being sooo mad at him. Fuck, was it bad that he wanted to make you angrier ?

“I told you, Satoru,” sighs Geto as he shrugs and nudges his best friend, at least agreeing with you. Shoko chuckles slightly, looking at the scene, amused.

“Wow, easy sweetheart. Didn’t mean to be that annoying. Sorry ?” he raises an eyebrow, looking at you as he tilts his head to the side, staring right back at your face. You didn’t know why, but the way he apologized angered you even damn more. And the way he kept looking at you, holding eye contact with no shame made you slightly nervous, which served to worsen your annoyance.

But then you hear some of the rest of the group mock him, or defend him, and that makes you roll your eyes. His damn fangirls and fanboys were a pain in the ass right now, and you just wanted to bang your head on the table at this exact moment.

“Excuse Satoru, he likes to have all the attention on him,” whispers Shoko to you, and you sigh at her words. It’s not like it was her fault.

Finally, it calms down, and instead of talking, or even studying like he said, Satoru was just staring at you, not looking away but instead analyzing the way the muscles of your face move each time you think or read something. The air shifts and you look back up, your eyes meet his, and you quickly look back at your notebook as if nothing happened. Did you have something on your face ? Why would he even be staring in the first place ?

After some minutes, it was too much for you. You felt like suffocating, and the air of the atmosphere was getting thick with tension. You were agonizing, and then without waiting any more seconds you pack your things in silence and stand back up. Shoko looks up at you, surprised.

“Already going ?” she asks, eyebrow raised.

“Yep, I’ll study in my room. See you for dinner,” you explain under the burning gaze of Satoru. You put on your bag over your shoulder and glance at the table before stepping back.

“See you, y/n,” smiles at you Suguru, and you are quite surprised that he remembered your name. So you smile back and give him a small wave before walking away.

“Goodbye, Geto” and you leave. Satoru huffs, wondering why did his best friend had the chance to receive your smile, but not him. Once you are out of sight, you finally breathe again and open the door of the library before stepping outside. 

But then as you walk in the corridor, alone, you hear quick footsteps behind you. Curious, you turn around, only to be met by the Gojo Satoru jogging towards your direction on the empty hallway. You turn around, ready to leave, deciding it wasn’t your business to know why he walked out of the library.

“Y/n,” he says your name. And you frown. He came to talk to you ? But why ? As you spin your head, he is right by your side, stopping in front of your confused face, almost looming over you because of how tall he is.

“Uh, yes ?” you ask, unsure.

“You’ mad at me ?” questions directly Satoru, hands in his pockets as he gazes at your eyes. Him and his damn blue eyes that made you so nervous. Shit, annoying as hell.

“I mean, you did piss me off, but you ended up shutting up so… not as much as earlier, I guess,” you admit, looking away, and then slowly back up at him.

“Sorry for earlier,” he adds, analyzing your reaction, and somewhat looking more apologetic compared to 20 minutes ago.

“No need to apologize twice, you already did earlier,” you retort, and you see him slightly pouting at the way you rejected his words.

“But I really wouldn’t want a cutie like you to be mad at me, so I’m just making sure, ya’ know ?” Satoru taunts, cheeky grin eating his face, and that makes you scoff at his flirtatious comment. Cutie ? He had to be kidding, seriously… He looked like a womanizer, after all, so you didn’t take his words to heart at all.

“Obviously…” you end up answering sarcastically with nonetheless an amused smile on your face. Gojo just felt like he won the moment your lips stretched to bless his eyes with your beautiful small smile of amusement. And that makes his grow larger. He steps back, leaving you space.

“Alright, see you soon, y/n,” he winks at you before turning around.

“Goodbye, Gojo,” you finish as you walk away too, on the opposite side.

Double win ! Satoru managed to hear his name roll down your tongue, and even if it wasn’t his first name, he didn’t care. He waits for you to be out of view to have a small leap of success. He was glad you didn’t see him do that, you would have cringed and thought he was crazy… And it’s with a happy facial expression that Gojo enters back the library, facking a nonchalant walk, but inside, his heart was hammering like a wild horse.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

After having a stressful week, you just wanted to relax, and put your mind somewhere else by chilling at home. As you sit on the ground in front of the TV, you decide to dust off the Wii controllers and console. Why not play some Mario Kart ? It’s been so long since you did, and it could make you feel like a kid again, without all the stress of university and student life on your shoulders. That could indeed be nice. 

Sitting back down on the couch, you start to play alone, since your roommate was out with friends. You get concentrated, barely noticing when Shoko comes back home, in the middle of a party and if you did look away, that would probably make you fail and be at the bottom of the list. You squint your eyes, focused, and then throw bananas, laughing as it makes one of the characters slip on it. 

“That was sly of you here !” suddenly exclaims a voice behind you, and you look up surprised, only to see blue eyes half lidded as Gojo smiles cockily at you. 

“Gojo-” you say surprised, as he jumps and plops next to you on the couch. Behind, Geto and Shoko are waving at you as a hello. You raise even more your brows, before looking back at the screen and realize your kart got stuck on the grass, making you the 7 in the classment, when you were the first some seconds ago. You groan, annoyed.

“Fuck !” you exclaim, trying to get back on track.

“You don’t play that well,” states Satoru, leaning on the couch spreading his arms on each side, looking at your game play.

“Excuse me ? That is your fault if I'm suddenly low in the ranking ! You caught me off guard !” you justify yourself as you speed up, frowning and leaning towards the screen to be even more concentrated.

“Don’t be a sore loser, y/n,” he teases, clearly getting on your nerves. And Lord, he just wanted to see that angry face again. The one you made back at the library was just so cute, he had to make you have it a second time. You couldn’t blame him, could you ?

“I’m not a sore loser- just shut up, I’m concentrated,” you hiss, glaring at him on the side, and you feel your anger rising at his antics. He continues to pester you, which made you arrive 4th on the podium at the end of the race. You lean back on the couch, defeated.

“Awwww… boo. Lemme show you how a winner plays, yeah ?” Satoru nudges you and grabs your Wii controller. You try to take it back but he lifts his arm up, out of reach for your smaller frame. 

“Seriously ?” you sigh, already pissed to the bone, as he just smirks at you, eyes looking down at your face that gets closer each time you try to take the controller back.

“Gojo, stop flirting like a 13 years old kid,” chuckles mockingly Shoko, sitting on a chair drinking some can beer with Suguru at her right, looking at the scene clearly amused.

“Hey, at least that works !” he exclaims as he gives her a wink, and you stand up to snatch the controller away but he quickly grabs your arm and makes you fall under him. You gasp of surprise, hair a mess now, and soon realize what just happened and in what position you were. His large hand that was wrapped around your wrist feels strangely electrifying, and you feel your stomach turn at how dangerously close he was.

“That doesn’t work !” you exclaim firmly. Gojo pouts and lets you go, letting you breath as he backs down to give you some space. 

“Be nice, Satoru,” lectures Suguru, his voice dripping like honey which makes the white haired male calm down. He sits back down on the couch, crossing his arms as if he just got scolded, still holding the controller. You sigh and stand back up, walking towards the drawer of the tv to grab one of the spare controllers you had from your childhood. You sit back next to your new found nemesis.

“Let’s compete, and we’ll see who is the sore loser now,” you announce, more like ordering him, turning on your controller as player 2. Of course you exchange with Satoru, wanting to be the one to control the Wii.

“A challenge, sweetheart ?” he smiles, choosing a character and its kart. He surprisingly picks princess peach, which makes you chuckle, but actually didn’t really surprise you that much.

“I’ll crush you,” you say as a matter of fact, getting suddenly serious when picking a road to compete now.

“Nah, I’d win,” he says confidently, spreading more his legs and glancing at your concentrated face. He had to say, he was on cloud nine right now. Meanwhile, Shoko and Geto are interested in the race, looking at the screen as it starts. 

“If I win, you owe me a wish,” he taunts.

“Deal, but if I win, you’ll be the one owing me a wish,” you answer, picking a box gift and getting turtle shells. Satoru was in front of you, so you threw some at him. The first two he avoids them easily. You frown, surprised that he managed to do so. 

“‘kay cutie,” he answers lazily, and as you throw the last one, it doesn’t reach him, but instead one of his teammates. You groan, but at least it’s not a total fail.

“You can’t beat me. I played this game thousands of times !” he adds confidently, speeding up and you struggle to catch him up on the rainbow road.

“You’re a nerd,” you spat.

“So what ? I’ll beat you in any video game, actually,” he scoffs, both of your karts next to each other, at the verge of making one fall from the rainbow.

“Boohoo, you stink,” you mock him on purpose, leaning closer to the tv, struggling, as Satoru stays laid back on the couch.

“Hey, I shower ! Even if I play League of Legend !” he defends himself, which makes Geto and Shoko laugh at this whole bickering you two had.

“Bahahahaha !” you can’t stop but laugh, before calming yourself to try to get back on track.

The race gets risky, and it’s the last part of it. No matter what magical box you use, you never manage being top 1. And that makes you wonder how Satoru could be that good at this game, being almost unfair as if trying to beat the god of Mario Kart. Your kart is back side to side to Gojo’s, and then, he has the nerves to tease you, before suddenly doing a skid and pushing your kart off the road. You scream of terror, when the race ends and Satoru ends up being top 1.

“You son of a bitch !” you scream, eyes wide open, being put back on the road and ending up the 9th. You see red, glaring at him, and you only are met with his stupid wolfish grin, eyebrows raised and leaning lazily on the couch as if he did nothing wrong.

“Told you, I’d win,” he simply says, winking at you.

You just wanted to rip off his stupid smirk out of his face, beyond pissed that you lost. You stand up from the couch, walking towards the kitchen to drink water and to try to calm yourself down.

“You did me dirty at the last second ! I could have won !” you defend yourself, slamming back the glass of water on the kitchen counter. Satoru follows suit, stepping slowly towards you with his hands nonchalantly in his pockets.

“That’s part of the game, y/n,” he shrugs, before cornering you, his trumphic smile reaching his eyes. He clearly was very pleased with himself, and this situation. Lord, how infuriating he was.

“Stop being cocky,” you glare at his pretty blue eyes, and Satoru bites the inside of his cheek at how excited he gets when seeing your sweet angry face. He loved it. Since last time at the library, it suddenly became like an addiction of his, to see your facial reactions. They were so enticing, after all. How could you blame him ? He was just curious to see more. So much more.

“You still owe me a wish,” he muses, and you sigh, drinking silently your water.

“I know….” you say. Satoru hums to himself, thinking about it. He was looming over you, halfway hiding the light behind him. You were cornered, forced to listen to his wish and bragging about winning.

“Bake me cookies. Shoko brought some of yours last time, and I tried one. Since then, I’ve been dying to eat more of it,” he suddenly orders and explains, biting his lower lip at the imagination and the recall of the sweet taste of your baking.

Without realizing, you felt flattered that he enjoyed your baking that much. You made these cookies before meeting him, actually. And it was true that Shoko told you she would bring some, if you accepted, to her friends. Who would have thought that Gojo Satoru would have tested them and dreamt about them before even knowing you in person ? You start to wonder if Shoko talked about you too, and if yes, what did she say ?

“Well, I can do that… But not now, I’m tired, so another day. And Shoko will bring them to you,” you end up accepting, not like Satoru would let you have the choice.

“No, you bring them to me. It would only be fair, right ?” he corrects, posing one of his hands on the counter, right next to your waist. You look up at him.

“Fine… Alright, alright, diva,” you roll your eyes, making Satoru’s smile grow wider.

“Aaaand, since you can’t fulfill my wish today, how about you give me a kiss on the cheek as a compensation ?” he proposes, tilting his head to the side, his finger tapping right next to you. You fluster, giving him a glare that he drinks up like honey.

“Gojo, what ?”

“Come ooon ! Just a peck on the cheek !” he insists, pouting and doing his puppy eyes. 

“I swear to God…” you sigh, before going on your tiptoes to reach his face. He beams, and leans down to give you more access. The moment your soft lips touched his cheek, he ascended to heaven, teeth showing because of how much he was smiling. His eyes were half lidded with mischief, and if you noticed enough you could see the tip of his ears slowly turning red.

“Atta girl. See when you want ?”

“Leave me alone,” you shake your head, slightly smirking at his antics as you walk back towards the living room.

“No, let’s play again !” he suddenly says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder by surprise. You look up at him only to be flashed by his boyish grin that he harbors happily.

“Nuh-uh !” you try to escape, but he forces you to sit down next to him, grabbing back the controllers that were on the couch.

“Yuh-uh !” he insists, starting another party.

You did end up having multiple other Mario Parties with him, to the point that Satoru himself, who at first came with Suguru to spend time with Shoko, ended up spending all evening with you. Not that Shoko cared, she did enjoy seeing him looking like a kid when having fun with you. Maybe that her and Geto were secretly rooting for him to shoot his shot. Who knows ? You couldn’t know, but you still were having way more fun than you expected. In fact, you and Gojo were getting pretty well along, bickering quite often. You barely knew him, but the way he acted, directly made you feel like you did know him for years. Gojo Satoru was just like that. His charms, his annoying behavior, his easy going nature, his jokes, his teasing, his lack of boundaries, all these little things made him look approachable, even if in reality, he wasn’t at all. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

As planned, some days later, you found time to bake the cookies Gojo wanted you to make. At first, you completely forgot, but then, an unknown number suddenly contacted you, asking for the cookies to be made. It obviously was Gojo Satoru. Thanks to Shoko, after pestering her for quite some time, he managed to get your number. In all honesty, him asking you by text for the cookies was just an excuse to talk to you and annoy you occasionally. But you didn’t know that, only thinking he was interested in getting his reward for winning against you last time.

So here you were, with the freshly baked cookies in your hands. Satoru told you to come see him on campus to give him the chocolate chip cookies. You then receive a call, your phone vibrating in your pocket. With your free fingers, you grab it and see it simply was Gojo. You brace yourself and answer after some seconds, not wanting to look desperate by answering at the first ringtone.

“Y/n ! Where are you ?” suddenly exclaims the cheerful voice of Satoru.

“The question is where are you ? I got the cookies,” you reply, turning around to see if you could notice his tall frame in this crowd of students all around you.

“I’m close to the cafeteria, next to the red bench,” he explains, and you hum before starting to walk again towards your destination.

“Alright, I’m on my way, so don’t move,” you answer, squeezing the tupperware of cookies against your chest.

“Yes ma’am, I’m staying right here,” he teases, and then you stop the call. Barely two minutes later, you see his snowy white haired head some meters away. You smile, and walk faster. But when you approach, you notice a bunch of girls surrounding him. Your smile falters slightly, and you quickly try to keep a neutral face. What was that feeling ? Jealousy ? No, why would you ? You shake your head, and then Gojo spots you. He flashes you a joyful grin, waving at you.

“Y/n !”

You can’t help but soften at his cheerfulness. What was amusing with Satoru, is that if he kept a straight face, everyone would think he was cold and unapproachable. But the way he always smiled and was loud enough for people in another city to hear him, completely broke this idea of coldness. The girls surrounding him look at you, curious of who you were.

“Hey,” you say, not only to Satoru but to the fellow girls as well. “Here, your cookies, you better enjoy it because I had to use all my remaining favorite chocolate to make the chips,” you warn, giving him the box. He beams, and his fingers brush against yours when taking the tupperware. That single stupid innocent touch made you linger your gaze on him.

“Ah, what an angel,” he drawls, winking at you. That brings some stare towards you at his flirty behavior, and you feel slightly nervous, brushing it off as if it was nothing.

“Give me back the tupperware when you’re done,” you order, and he whispers saying “bossy”. One of the girls wraps her arm around his bicep and leans towards him, looking at the cookies.

“Oahhhhhh, Gojo, could you feed me some ?” she bats her eyelashes saying that, looking at him. You can’t help but think how pretty she looked, and quite sure of herself to blatantly be that touchy and flirty with him, which were some guts you didn’t have. The remaining girls add themselves in the conversation, swooning over him like moths towards a bonfire. You felt suddenly left out. Not necessarily because of the way you suddenly weren’t part of the discussion anymore, standing awkwardly, but because you felt like they were from another world. One far away from you.

Satoru himself and these women looked like super models. They clearly had this type of face that would make any person at their feet, and it just made you realize how Gojo was out of your league, being a beauty and surrounded by beauties too. You weren’t very confident in your own beauty, having strong moments of insecurity. And damn, you hated feeling like shit right now. Satoru did nothing wrong, these girls too, but here you were, moping around and your heart sinking to your heels for something so stupid.

Gojo laughs at what they say, a cheeky grin and eyes twinkling with a light of mischief. This ugly and nasty emotion was boiling inside of you. With what happened this past few times, you thought that he maybe could be interested in you. But seriously, why would he when these supermodels-like were always surrounding him ? Being one himself ? You qualified your beauty as average, boring, even, nothing standing out of the ordinary. Yeah, this growing crush you had against your will was better shoved down the ground. You didn’t belong next to him.

You sigh, take a deep breath, acting like everything was alright, and then turn around. Satoru directly notices this change of mood and the way your back was now facing him. He frowns, slightly feeling guilty. Did he on purpose try to act all flirty just to make you jealous and see if it works ? Wanting to see this angry face he enjoyed so much last times, the way your mouth and brows twitched and this beautiful glare he longed for ? Yes. Did he feel like a dick right now after blatantly ignoring you ? Yeah.

He suddenly grabs your arm, and you spin your face towards him, surprised by his move. Did he forget anything ?

“Actually… wait,” he says, but then his words die down on his throat. He actually had no single idea of what to say, no single one. The way you looked at him made his mind blank, and it was infuriating because usually his head was full of sentences to shout all the time. Why now he had nothing to say ? Seriously ?!

“Uh… don’t tell me you want more cookies, I won’t bake you more, unless you pay me,” you say, trying to act casual and like your usual self. That cracked a smile on his face.

“First of all, I would for sure ask you to bake me cookies again. And second… I… I don’t want to eat these cookies alone, so come with me,” he ends up trying to regain his eternal confidence, straightening his posture.

“Well, we wanted to eat these with you, so-” starts one of the girls, and Satoru wraps his arm around your shoulders as he gives you a squeeze.

“Nope, sorry girls, I’m greedy for sweets, I don’t share. Only with the baker right here,” he explains, giving you a wink at the end of his sentence. You give him a confused look, wondering why he suddenly proposed that. 

“Ehhhhh ? You’re so mean !” pouts one of them, and Satoru shakes his head.

“Nahhhh, can’t do, so see ya,” he finishes, before turning on the other side and dragging you with him without waiting for any answer, and all that so shamelessly. You look at him, and he just smiles at you. Fuck, that makes your heart flutter for a second. You didn’t need that right now.

“Why did you do that ?” 

“What ? Can’t I eat cookies with you now ? You’re the one that baked them, it’s only fair if I let you at least eat one of them. I’m nice, right ? Normally I never share sweets,” he justifies himself, and you raise an eyebrow before nodding to yourself. Right, Satoru was just being nice, nothing else. Surely anyone else would have done the same, it’s called being polite, no ? You brush it off by letting out a laugh as you both walk towards a more secluded place of the campus, his arm still around you. 

“I didn’t know you had a sweet tooth,” you comment, analyzing him up and down.

“Excuse-me ? Me ? A sweet tooth ? No way, I don’t… I just enjoy some sweet treats here and there, like everyone,” he answers sheepishly. 

“The way you justify yourself makes me feel like you do have a sweet tooth, Gojo,” you tease, inhaling the fresh air of outside as you spot a bench some meters away. He spots it too, and you both walk towards it.

“Well, I do have a sweet tooth for indeed some sweet things. For example, a cutie like you,” he flirts, tilting his head to the side to look at you up and down better. You roll your eyes at his antics.

“Are you always like that ?” you scoff playfully, not buying one second of what he says.

“Like what ?” he asks as he makes you sit down next to him, and he opens the tupperware, his arm leaving your shoulder and making you shiver at his warmth disappearing. 

“Flirty.”

“Well, we can say that. But you are an exception,” he corrects, leaning against the bench and inhaling the scent of the freshly baked sweets. He licks his pink lips. They looked plump, kissable even.

“Yeah, right….” you snap back of your unholy thoughts, and say that ironically.

“I’m being for real here,” he whines, facing you and leaning his head towards yours, blue eyes boring into yours.

“Ok, Gojo. Instead of talking, try a cookie,” you roll your eyes and grab one of your bakings.

“Boss me around more, I like it,” he flirts, and maybe he wasn’t really joking when he said that. Who knows ?

You shove a cookie in his mouth the moment he gets too close, making him have a startled face, but then he munches on the sweet and his cheeks turn pink. He swallows thickly, eyes opening wider as he takes the cookie in between his fingers.

“I think I just tasted heaven,” he whispers, before literally gulping down in flashing light speed the remaining. You quickly grab one for yourself in the box, scared he would eat everything before you could even have the chance to taste your own baking.

“Don’t exaggerate too much, but welcome, I guess ?” you answer slightly flustered by his praising, but that only makes him smile even more.

“Believe me when I say that ! I’m ready to pay you everyday to have those again !” he exclaims when grabbing you by the shoulders while you bite on your food.

“Wow- really ?”

“Or instead I should marry you, and then, I’ll be able to enjoy all for myself your baking…” he continues, thoughtful as he leans closer, eyes darting towards your lips that had some leftover  crumbs. You almost choke on your bite, but quickly remind yourself that this is Gojo saying that, and he obviously wasn’t being serious here, only joking around like usual.

“You’re greedy like that ?”

“I am greedy if it’s you, yeah,” he corrects, fingers slightly squeezing your shoulders, making you look at him.

“Maybe you should marry a cake, that would be easier,” you joke, brushing off his flirting.

“And eat my cake as soon as I reach the wedding night ? I would be too sad once I’m done and seeing that nothing is left… No, I prefer to eat you out and then you can bake me sweets every day-” he starts to say, cocky smirk plastered on his face, and your blood rushes towards your face and heat possesses all your body at the mention of being eating out by Gojo Satoru himself.

“Whaaaa, shut up !” you directly stop him by slamming your hand against his mouth to not let him continue his quite perverted comment. He really had no single boundaries when talking. That was crazy, and still very new to you. Your heart was hammering against your chest, trying to ignore the images of having sex with him on an imaginary wedding night popping in your mind.

Satoru easily brings back your hand down by holding your wrist, not after licking your skin teasingly. You do a disgusted face, screaming a “ewwww” loudly, and whipping his saliva on his own shirt. He can’t help but laugh strongly at your distorted facial features and how bothered you looked, in all its meanings. 

“What ? I’m just saying.” He shrugs nonchalantly, and that makes you roll your eyes again, which can’t help but make him grin even more.

“Eat your cookies or I’m taking them back,” you threaten him, trying to grab the box but he quickly withdraws it away from your reach, protecting it like a sacred treasure. He then stares at you, sliding down at your lips, before using his thumb to wipe some crumbs of chocolate at the corner of your mouth. He brings it to his own lips, sucking on it, giving you a cheeky smirk in return of your shocked face.

“You told me to eat your cookies, there were some leftovers on your face. I couldn’t let it go to waste like that,” he justifies himself, grabbing another cookie and biting on it as if he did nothing wrong.

“You’re gross.” 

“And you’re cute,” he retorts smoothly, winking at you.

“Stop being a flirt for a second !” 

“No can do.”

You stayed firm on your ground that Gojo Satoru was out of your league. But, because there is always a but… Maybe it didn’t feel so wrong to sometimes let yourself hope for even something tiny with him ? It couldn’t hurt that much, right ?

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

In the quietness of your apartment, you just finished gathering your things in your bag for the next day. As you enter the bathroom, starting your skincare routine, it’s when someone rings on the doorbell. Curious, you didn’t expect anyone. Maybe it was for Shoko ? You quickly put on some shorts, and walk towards the entrance. The moment you open the door, you are met with Satoru standing in front of you. He was totally drenched in water. Hair sticking to his forehead, clothes glued to his frame, scandalously showing the lines of his body. You realize that outside it was raining, quite a lot, meaning he probably didn’t have any umbrella right now, and it’s for that he was in this both pathetic and sexy state.

“Gojo ? What the- you’re soaked !” you exclaim and step to the side to let him enter the warmth and the dry air of your home. He smiles and leans down a bit to enter, being slightly too tall or else he would bump his head. You only noticed that now, staring at his figure.

“Forgot my umbrella. I was outside with friends, and it started to rain like a bitch. Shoko’s place was close to where I was, so I came to shelter here until it would calm down,” he explained, hand whipping his wet hair backwards, leaving his pretty face bare. Some pearls of rain roll down his cheeks, and you look at one falling on his pale skin. He catches you staring, so you directly turn around to walk towards the living room.

“Shoko is not here, she went to drink with her classmates at a bar. She’ll be back later,” you say.

“She wouldn’t mind if I stayed. Do you mind ?” he asks, taking off his shoes and walking towards where you are. 

“I pity you. So you can stay until the rain stops,” you accept, smirking at your own teasing and he scoffs, grinning wider.

“How thoughtful of you, I'll always remember this beautiful act of kindness !”

“Instead of joking around, come in the bathroom, I'll give you a towel so you can dry yourself,” you sigh, answering him, letting out a small laugh to his over exaggerated reaction. He raises his eyebrows and follows you not without saying a “yes ma’am”.

As you enter back the bathroom, the music that was playing on your phone on the sink earlier is still on. You hum, and grab a towel before giving it to Satoru. He thanks you, and while he starts to wipe his drenched hair, you resume back your skincare routine. The quietness of the room is filled by the songs of your playlist in the background.

“Skincare ? Wait, lemme guess, is this…a mositruze ?” he asks, breaking the silence as he leans towards you. 

“A moisturizer, Gojo. I don’t even know what you pronounced,” you chuckle, correcting him, and then apply the cream while gazing at him in the mirror. You see how he stares at the white texture that dissolves into your face. And oh, it was so unfair how his skin was flawless and just perfect, wishing you could have the same. 

“It’s the same. The name is too complicated,” he grunts, pouting slightly as now he finishes drying his hair, starting to take off his shirt. You don’t answer at first, eyes glued to his sticky torso getting revealed, and the way he looked like he got sculpted by Apollo himself. Shit, the man was hot as hell. How could he be smart, funny, and handsome all at the same time ?! He really was out of your league, that’s what you were saying to yourself. Not like you thought you had any chance, anyways. Satoru catches you staring, obviously, malice in his eyes. It’s not like he didn’t do it on purpose, getting half nude, just for you to look at.

“You’re just dumb,” you finally end up answering, snapping back to your skincare instead of his gorgeous muscles that move while he pats the towel on his fair skin. You decide to apply lip balm to finish your routine. Satoru stares, so much, at your pretty glossed lips, rubbing them together to smudge evenly the product. He licks his own unconsciously. 

“And now, it’s lip balm. I know that, I use it too. See ? I’m not dumb,” he suddenly says, getting closer to your face. He looks like he wants your approbation, like a puppy to his owner. That made you smile a little.

“Wow, bravo, you indeed are smarter than you made me think,” you joke, because you knew how Satoru was so so so smart, no matter how goofy he acted. 

“Can I apply some ?” he asks innocently now after smirking at your teasing, and you raise an eyebrow before you give him the chapstick. He shakes his head, and he points at his lips.

“Nuh-uh”, he refuses, and you frown.

“I’m not applying it for you like a baby,” you complain, feeling like dealing with a child, or a spoiled princess. He sighs, disappointed.

“Then smooch your lips with mine,” he proposes as if it was the smartest thing ever. It wasn’t for you, but for Satoru it was, because he would have the perfect reason to kiss you. Even if for a second, hidden behind the lip balm. He just wanted a taste, a little, a very tiny one. Nothing too mean, really. You can’t help but fluster slightly at his proposition, and how bold it was, and smooth, very smooth. Satoru really knew how to make women dance in the palm of his hands, and how to charm them. 

“Gojo, seriously ?” you deadpan, a bit on your guard. Even though you wanted it, no matter how innocent it was, to kiss him to share your lip balm, you felt like you didn’t deserve a kiss from someone like him. Or that he was just playing around, making your heart throb of insecurity for a second. In your mind, he didn’t really want to kiss you. Why would he, anyways ? It was just to joke, to tease you, nothing he really wanted aside for his ego. 

“Yep, very serious. Why ? It’s just a smooch ! And since you don’t want to apply the lip balm for me…” he continues, saying ‘smooch’ instead of ‘kiss’, to make you comply more easily. He was doing his stupid puppy eyes, batting his long white lashes at you. You falter. Fuck, alright, why not doing it ? It’s maybe the only chance for you to kiss a Greek God like him, a once in a lifetime opportunity. Even if he probably was just joking, and didn’t really care about you. All that for chapstick… damn.

“Alright,” you sigh, acting like you didn’t care. Probably to protect yourself from disappointment. 

Satoru smiles as if he just won the lottery, and his warm hand wraps around your waist, bringing you closer. That makes you shiver head to toe, and his naked torso presses against yours. You try to not look at it, ogling his chest. His other hand slides on your cheek, and suddenly it looks like it’s not just a smooch, but a serious kiss happening. Your heart hammers loudly, his face getting closer, and you get lost in the pool of his eyes. 

You don’t have time to think that his soft lips press against yours oh so sweetly. Your eyelids flutter, leaning into the kiss, mouth rubbing together to smudge the balm. Fuck, it tasted sweet, thinks Satoru. His ears turn red, feeling like he ascended heaven just by kissing your lips, even if it lasted shortly. The seconds linger, maybe lingering too long for what it was supposed to be, and he finally steps back. He presses his lips together, and hums. You try to act normal, as if this simple touch wasn’t making your stomach turn around. 

“Hmm, cherry flavored,” he says, looking back at you.

“Want to taste ?... Sorry, that was a line from the Shreck movie, you know, Prince Charming,” you first suddenly reply to change the subject, before cringing at yourself and laughing nervously at the joke you made. But Satoru explodes with laughter, and your mouth twitches in a smile, realizing you didn’t make the atmosphere awkward as you originally thought.

“I love Shreck, what do you mean ?! Of course I know this line of Prince Charming !” he exclaims, a glint in his eye.

“Here I thought I would be embarrassing myself if you didn’t get the reference,” you chuckle, shaking your head, but then realize that his hand is still on your waist while he gets back closer.

“Nah. Wanna be my muffin cake ?” he teases, reciting the nickname Prince charming says to Fiona, and God, that makes you laugh too.

“Maybe. You know, you really remind me of him. Kinda acting like a diva, saying weird ass nicknames, always charming…” you start to tease, pushing his hand away when he gets even closer asking that question, and he pouts. But then his ears almost perk up, and he leans against the sink, crossing his arm over his still naked chest and tilts his head on the side.

“Sooo you think I’m charming ?” he more like states instead of asks. Him and his stupid grin. And Satoru really wanted an answer, because you felt like a mystery to him, one that he enjoyed discovering a little more every time you two met.

“Don’t fool me, you already know that you are, Gojo,” you roll your eyes saying that, facing him, and then look at yourself in the mirror. He nudges you.

“So you agree ?”

“Ugh, yes, I mean it’s not the biggest news of the year !” you explain yourself, rolling your eyes at his obnoxious insistence to hear you say it. But can you blame him ? His heart fluttered when you said yes, as if he got complimented in the best way possible. But to be honest, it was just because it was you.

“I prefer that,” he grins, looking at your face, and you ignore him as you hum the music of your playlist, being one of your favorite songs to dance on. He stares at you intrigued.

“Do you know how to dance to this song ?” he asks.

“Uh, I-” you start to answer surprised, but then he suddenly grabs your hand and makes you sway towards him, fingers sliding back on your waist. He raises an eyebrow.

“Let’s dance !” he smiles, and you can’t help but want to, after all, soon the beat was about to drop. And with the kiss, you warmed up to him, feeling bolder.  So you laugh, and he can’t help but soften, before making you move against him, and then makes you twirl.

“Alright alright-” you get cut off by your own giggle, and he drinks up your voice.

He is listening to you singing the lyrics, and you start to lead the improvised dance, not really caring if you were dancing good or bad, because Satoru just managed to make you have fun. He keeps you close, and sometimes acts on purpose dramatically, twirling you again and again, and then making you almost fall before catching you back in his arms, making you gasp and laugh harder with excitement and adrenaline. Satoru really made you dance in the palm of his hand. He had this way of making you falter and indulge his antics, wanting to follow everything he proposes and just have fun with him. You even forgot your own insecurities. 

He matches your steps, and the swing of your hips, gluing his to yours when needed, and each time he did, it made you feel incredibly hotter. A tension was building up. You never had thought one day that you would be dancing in your bathroom with Gojo Satoru, but here you were. And God, how amusing it felt, as if the two of you were kids having fun dancing together. Surprisingly, he knows some of the lyrics, and sings them with you, wiggling his eyebrows when you give him a look.

The moment the music stops, he makes you lean backwards, almost touching the ground, but keeps you firmly in his arms. You catch back your breath, incredibly close, exhales mingling together. You can’t help but laugh with him. His face was lightened up with so much joy, and yours too, not realizing how this simple moment just made him fall for you even more.

Satoru couldn’t help but want to scream on top of a rooftop, and yap to Suguru everything that happened right now. How he managed to kiss you (even if it was for a lip balm), and then dance with you and make you laugh so much. It’s as if he won a battle. Being successful in his quest of conquering your heart. 

The rest of the evening, Satoru stayed, his clothes already long dry, and the rain forgotten, but that wasn’t an excuse anymore. He only went back home when Shoko came back, leaving a warmth in your chest that wasn’t there before. 

It almost scared you how he slowly started to creep inside your heart. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Friday night. You just were on your way back home after hanging out with your friends at a bar. It was around 2 am, the night long up your head. You walk faster and enter the elevator, pressing the button of your floor. As you wait, you can’t help but have your thoughts drifting back to a certain white haired man.

You felt like you kept bumping into him this past weeks, and how he slowly started to hang out more and more at Shoko’s (your) place, even without Suguru to tail behind. You fluster at what happened last time, with the kiss and the whole dance in the bathroom. It was sweet, and you couldn’t lie about how much you had fun with him that night. He even stayed longer than you both expected, making you wonder if you could consider him as your friend now, or still only as Shoko’s friend. 

You sigh, and take your keys to open the door of your shared apartment. Tired, you kick off your shoes, and then put down your jacket and bag. As you walk towards the living room, you gasp and jump slightly of surprise when you see the cause of all your heart problems laying on the couch.

“Gojo ?” you ask, and he lifts his head lazily while he is scrolling down on his phone. He smiles when his eyes meet yours.

“Y/n, you’re back ?”

“Where is Shoko ?” you question as you go wash your hands in the kitchen, and feel his gaze on you as he stretches like a cat.

“Sleeping in her room, so instead I stay on the couch,” he explains as you dry your hands, glancing at him, before entering the living room. He was wearing grey sweatpants that were quite low on his hips, dangerously low, even. Satoru had a plain white shirt, but tight enough to show his delicious muscles. Wow, ok, you should stop drooling for a second.

“You stay for the night ?” you continue asking, trying to distract yourself from your unholy thoughts. He passes his hand in his disheveled hair, looking quite tired.

“Yup.”

“Sleeping on this couch is hell, you will have a horrible night. And you are too tall for it too,” you comment, nose scrunching as you make a face of discomfort at the idea of him sleeping there. His legs were indeed dangling off the couch, way too big for laying on this.

“Well, where else am I supposed to sleep ? Shoko doesn’t let me even approach her bedroom, as if i’ll mess up everything or I don’t know what she thinks will happen,” he scoffed, pouting at Shoko’s behavior towards him, treating Satoru like a disaster. He then turned his head towards you as you sat on the remaining space next to his hips.

“You can sleep on my bed, I’ll take the couch,” you propose, wanting to be nice and mostly feeling bad for him.

“Seriously ? And you on the couch ? No way,” he huffs, and shakes his head adamant on thinking it was ridiculous. You frown, surprised.

“I’m being nice here. Take my bed,” you retort.

“Not without you in it,” he corrects, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, thinking he was flirting around again. But you were too tired for this.

“In your dreams.”

“What ? No. I didn’t mean it in that way. I’m serious here, y/n. You said the couch is uncomfortable. If I’m cozy in your bed and you are not, it just feels wrong. So either we sleep together in your room, or I sleep on the couch. Period,” he says more firmly, and it’s the first time you see him actually showing a rather serious expression. You swallow your saliva, and then think about it.

Sleeping with Gojo Satoru ? In the same bed ? What if people learnt about it and would start rumors ? No. It would be just sleeping. But you couldn’t help your beating heart of apprehension. What if he tried something ? What would you do ? Would he treat you like a one night stand, just someone to fool around with ? You didn’t want that, at all. You couldn’t even know if he would. There were so many rumors going on about him, that he was a womanizer, sleeping with no strings attached, and all this stuff. And it was true that he was charming, and from what you saw, he knew how to flirt. But you saw too how he just was a nerd and loser in disguise, and you don’t think it in the bad way, more like how cute and surprising it was. 

So would he really try something ? But wait. Why would he even try something with you ? No, there would be no single chances. The kiss from last time was just a bold move, nothing more. Gojo Satoru was way out of your league, there was no reason why he would see you differently than just Shoko’s roommate. Maybe a friend, but nothing above. 

“So ?” he asks again, snapping you back from your train of thoughts. You bat your lashes a second, and then remind yourself that he was just right next to you, waiting for an answer. He was up on his elbows now, the muscles of his arms flexing while he was doing so. He really was fit… You stare at it then back at his pretty face.

“Alright, let’s do that. Let’s hope my bed is big enough for two,” you end up answering after taking a deep breath.

“We’ll make it fit, don’t worry cutie,” he grins at your acceptance, and stands back up on his whole height, looming over you.

Some minutes later, you go out of the bathroom after having finished putting yourself in your pajamas and washing up from the hangout you had earlier. Satoru was already laying in your bed, waiting for you. He puts down his phone when he sees you, and damn, it felt so weird seeing him in your bedroom, even more laying on your bed. You follow suit and slip under the covers on the other side, brushing against him as there wasn’t enough space to have some personal intimacy. Great…

“We’re pretty squeezed,” you comment, chuckling as you try to lighten the mood by doing your best to get comfortable, ignoring how his hot body is right next to you.

“Eh, I don’t mind. You’re warm, I was cold, perfect match I would say, don’t you think ?” He smiles, laying on his side to look at you, blue orbs shining in the dim light of the moon behind you. 

“You keep saying we are the perfect match,” you comment, raising an eyebrow.

“Because we are,” he retorts, looking right back at you.

“Ah, really now ?” You grin.

“What ? It’s true ! We both don’t do relationships, we danced together, we do a great team on mario kart, we love Shreck, you bake cookies, I eat them, you tell me to shut up, I do, and you’re warm, I was feeling cold. Perfect, I’m saying. Perfect !” he insists, enumerating some stupid reasons, and you can’t help but laugh at his silliness. 

“It doesn’t take you much for you to feel like it’s a perfect match,” you tease.

“You’re just the one, sweetie. What can I say ?” he answers, giving you his flirty smirk, the one that you just knew so well. 

“Alright Mr Prince Charming, good night,” you roll your eyes at his joke, smiling slightly, and turn around, back facing him.

“Good night, y/n,” he ends up whispering after some seconds of silence. It’s back quiet, and you couldn’t help but feel his torso brushing against you. You both were so close, it was flustering you. Satoru was still awake, eyes looking at the back of your head. His heart was hammering in his chest, not believing that he was sleeping with you. It was a bold move he did earlier, and God, he didn’t expect you to accept at all. But here he was.

Satoru stays silent, listening to your soft breathing. His body is aching to get closer, and it wouldn’t take much, because of how already close you both were. His limbs, without thinking, move on their own. His strong arm wraps around your stomach, dragging you against his chiseled torso. You gasp, and turn your head to look at him surprised.

“Told you, I’m cold, you’re warm. And I didn’t know where to put my arm…” he justifies himself. You couldn’t deny that you enjoyed this position, the way his body molded against yours was oddly satisfying and comforting. And it was from long ago that you had the chance to have such closeness with someone. Anyways, you were too tired to think more into it. Satoru was just being Satoru, right now… Thats’ what you were saying to yourself. 

“If you say so,” you end up answering, voice more quiet than you intended. You turn back, closing your eyes and letting yourself relax in his arms. Satoru couldn’t help but think how right it felt, this position with you, as if your bodies were made for complimenting each other. His hand presses your stomach, and his nose bumps against your nape, soft breath caressing your skin.

All the maelstrom of constant thoughts in Satoru’s mind just shutted off, and how good it felt to be calm. His mind was always racing, all the time, never stopping. But right now he just found peace in the comfort of your body against his, in having you in his arms.

Not falling for you was impossible now. Satoru realised that he was long lost, his at first silly curiosity and crush evolved into something much bigger. Something he would have never thought of, because Gojo Satoru doesn’t do relationships, or romantic feelings. But here he was, and it was scary. But maybe it was worth it, to go against his fear, if it was with you.

He shifts, his hips pressing against your lower back, legs crouching behind yours. For once, Satoru fell asleep quickly. Normally an impossible task. He could get used to this.

In the morning, before Shoko left early for classes, she saw Satoru wasn’t in the living room. But when she went to check on you, what a surprise to see you both glued to each other. She couldn’t help but take a picture and send it to Suguru, and then on both Satoru’s and your phone. It was a surprise too, when you opened your phone later this morning.

And for Satoru, he had the best sleep of his life, bed hair and groggy voice when waking up next to you. The only embarrassment was his morning boner that was poking against your ass, and he never turned red as quickly as before. He went rushing to the shower to deal with his little problem and to obviously wash himself, leaving you half asleep in the bed, not really understanding what just happened. Let’s say that morning he was happy to wake up next to you.

When he came back freshly washed, he acted like nothing happened, and you quickly forgot about it, getting ready too for your day. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Some weeks passed, and receiving texts from Gojo, or either bumping into him and ending up being dragged by him to do whatever activity or conversation, became your routine. You grew to see him as a friend, and against your will, your crush kept getting bigger and bigger each passing moment. Yet, you always kept boundaries and some wall in between the two of you, wanting to protect your heart and knowing Satoru would never be interested in you. Each time he flirted with you, you saw it only as him joking, and whenever  he was intimately close, you brushed it off as normal behavior from his clingy self. 

You were getting ready for a party, doing your makeup in front of the mirror’s sink in the bathroom next to Shoko. She literally forced you to come, wanting you to hang out with her and her group of friends. So here you were, doing the final touches on your face and hair. You rub your lips together before giving one last glance at the mirror, and at your roommate too.

“Ohhhh, looking sexy here ! They will all be head over heels, I’m telling you,” she exclaims, winking at you as she part her mouth to apply a deep red lipstick.

“Come on, they will not. But thank you, girl,” you chuckle not without rolling your eyes, looking at her up and down. She really was pretty, her outfit complimenting her curves.

“Gojo will faint when seeing you dressed like that,” she comments, giving you a knowing look that makes you scoff.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you shake your head, adjusting your clothes and then putting on your favorite perfume for the occasion.

“He’s always flirting with you, to the point it’s kinda pathetic how much he wants you,” she continues, turning around to face you.

“Shut up. He’s just being himself. He always acts flirty, you know that,” you insist, and she sighs. But you were sure of yourself. Shoko was just seeing too much into it. Satoru wasn’t the type to settle down for a relationship, he told you that the first time you both met. Plus, he had a lot of better choices around him.

“Ahhh, if you say so…” You were a lost case, that’s what she was thinking. 

Some minutes later, you both were walking outside your shared apartment. It was a bit cold outside, even more so with your outfit. But you fought against the wind, deciding your style would be over comfortability for tonight. The party was at a nightclub, one that Shoko used to go with her classmates and friends. After walking down the streets of Tokyo, you both arrive at your destination. The loud music bangs from the walls, and you see standing in front of the nightclub a group of persons that you recognize as people Shoko personally knows. Among them, there were familiar faces, as well as Satoru’s and Suguru’s. When you arrive, you can’t help but feel the burning gaze of Gojo right on you, his eyes siding you up and down. It was the first time he saw you wearing quite sexier clothes, and you suddenly felt overly aware of yourself.

Not knowing why, feeling embarrassed, you greet Suguru first. He grins at you, purple eyes staring down at you.

“You look lovely tonight, y/n,” he compliments you, and you fluster slightly at his smooth voice. 

“Thank’s, you do too. Did you guys wait long for us to arrive ?” you ask, smiling at him as he lazily leans against the wall, hands in pocket and smiling at you.

“No, Satoru was late too, so we barely arrived before you,” he explains. You nod, and Suguru shows with his chin the entrance.

“You look like you’ll be cold, maybe you should enter first,” he states more softly, stepping closer by your side, leaving the wall.

“True, but Shoko said she would smoke one before entering, so…” you answer vaguely, looking at her talking with Gojo and Utahime. You feel his gaze on you the moment you glance in their direction, and your eyes meet for a second before you quickly look back to Geto.

“Let me guess… You don’t want to enter it alone ?” the black haired male laughs.

“Not really, ahah,” you wonder how he realized. I mean, it was quite obvious at the way you shifted slightly, a glint of uncomfortability in your eyes.

“I can come with you then,” he proposes.

“Really ?” you ask surprised, eyes opening wider.

“Of course. So come on, let’s go,” he muses as he slides his hand on the small of your back. But then barely some seconds later, another arm swings around your waist and makes you hit the side of someone.

“I don’t think so… Suguru, Shoko asked you to come and give her your lighter. So don’t worry, I’ll go in first with y/n,” suddenly interferes Satoru, giving a knowing look to Suguru as if they could communicate by telepathy, making you wonder what was happening. Suguru takes off his hand and backs down.

“Hmmm, really ? Alright,” he says slily, smirking before leaving the two of you alone. You don’t know why, but you felt a tension growing inside of you. You take a deep breath, trying to calm down. Satoru makes you follow him.

“I’m hurt, you didn’t even greet me,” he pouts, giving you puppy eyes. You end up laughing, easing the atmosphere, and nudging him.

“Hello Gojo. You didn’t need to do this, you know ?”

“I had my reasons,” he answers vaguely, and then after some seconds, the man that was keeping the entry lets you both enter after eying you down. The sound of the bass of the night club vibrates in your body, the atmosphere englobing the two of you. You look around, and Satoru brings you closer, saying it was for you to not get lost in this sea of people dancing and ordering drinks. It was hot inside, and God, it almost felt sticky. You already felt drunk from all this whole mood shifting all around you.

“Wanna go grab a drink ?” you suddenly feel the lips of Satoru on your ears, so you could hear him better. But fuck, the way his hand was still around your waist and his head lowered to allow you to listen to him made him look incredibly sexy right now. You look up slowly at his eyes, your faces quite closer than the usual.

“Yeah, I hope it’s not too expensive though,” you answer loudly as well, and he raises his eyebrow, before spotting the bar thanks to his tall height and then brings you towards it.

“As if I would let you pay. Nah, I’m paying sweetheart.” You didn’t know if you heard him well, but you didn’t answer as you both arrived in front of the counter. He keeps you at arm length, and you both take your order. He doesn’t take alcohol, and you look at him surprised as you expected him to do the contrary.

“What ? I hate the taste of alcohol, that shit is sour,” he exclaims, and you laugh as you lean towards the counter while the barman prepares the drink.

“I’m not judging you, but… Just say you don’t hold your liquor,” you tease. He scoffs as if you just said the stupidest thing ever.

“Excuse me ? I’m not a lightweight !”

“That’s not what Shoko told me…” you whisper, and even if the music was loud, Satoru heard it very well. He whispers ‘traitor’. He pinches your side, and you are now facing his smug face. At the same time you both get the drinks. As you were ready to take your credit card, Satoru stops you by grabbing your wrist and shows off his… black card ?! You open wider your eyes as he pays, shocked to see him having this kind of card. And damn, it kinda makes sense as you realize all the designer clothes he owned.

“Gojo, I could have paid for myself !” you express, but he just rolls his eyes.

“Never. Just say thank you, y/n,” he answers, bringing his glass higher. You fluster, and toast your glass with his own before gulping down your own drink.

“Thank you,” you say after swallowing. Satoru stares at you while humming, the dim light of the club caressing your skin so beautifully and complimenting your eyes. He gets entranced for a second, and the way he was looking at you made you wonder why he was doing so. At the same time, a tall and attractive woman approached the two of you. You glance at her, but then she puts her hand on the arm of Satoru.

“Hey handsome, you’re sweet. With my friends we wondered if you wanted to come have fun with us, we ordered some champagne at our table,” she muses, pointing at the table meters away surrounded by a bunch of cute girls. You swallow your saliva as she does some fuck me eyes to Satoru, and it even charmed you as well. 

Wow, she really looked pretty, and hot as hell, that you knew if she asked you, you would have followed her. But then you look back at the white haired male, and you can’t help but feel your stomach twisting painfully at the idea of him going with them. But it would only be natural, right ? Who in their right mind would refuse such a proposition from a beauty like her ? So, you step back unconsciously to give him some free room to answer, bracing yourself to be left alone.

“Awwww, sorry, I don’t like alcohol,” he answers, flashing her a charming apologetic smile, before glancing at you at the corner of his eye and noticing how you stepped away and were looking around acting unbothered.

“Oh, well, we still can make it work-” she doesn’t back down, and you had to give her that. But Satoru steps towards you and then brings you towards him, putting your back against his chest and then you feel his lips suddenly on your neck which makes you shiver head to toe. He kisses it sensually, before lifting his head slightly.

“I’m busy with my girl,” he ends the discussion, and you don’t have the time to react or even answer that he drags you towards where people are dancing. You gasp, but he makes you swirl easily in the middle of the crowd, manhandling you like a doll.

“Gojo, what was that-”

“What was what ?” he feins innocence, and you give him a glare that he gladly drinks up before suddenly making you spin and fall in his arms, leaving you breathless.

“Don’t act dumb with me,” you struggle to answer at the way he makes you move on the dance floor, unable to hold back a laugh at how he twirls you around.

“I came here to have fun with you and the others, not some strangers,” he explains, shrugging, and then makes you go back straight on your feet. You can’t help but feel relieved, smiling at him.

“Then let’s have fun,” you smirk, and another song starts by the DJ. You swing your hips left and right at the tempo, feeling the music and looking at Satoru in the eyes. He bites his lower lip, bringing your ass against his crotch, and accompanying your moves.

You chuckle, singing the lyrics as you both move. It made you remember how you both danced in your bathroom weeks ago. The kiss comes back into mind, and you close your eyes a second as the chorus of the song resonates all around you. His hands hold firmly your waist, digging in your waist and the breath of his mouth caressing your neck. You didn’t know why, but you felt way more confident than usual. Maybe because being in a nightclub, meaning it was normal to dance closely to other people, including your friends, you didn’t mind getting way more bolder and intimate with Satoru. Surely he wouldn’t take it as you trying to charm him. I mean, it was the case, but that was a secret. You couldn’t let him know about your little crush, not wanting to go through an obvious rejection and humiliation from him.

“Reminds me of the dance we had in your bathroom,” he whispers in the crook of your ear, and you nod, smiling at him as you turn around and face him. You giggle, his hands still on your waist and keeping you close as you both continue to dance together. You swing your hands around his neck, and Satoru sings along with you, making you laugh at how much fun you had.

The lights flash all around you, sometimes making the white hair of Gojo glow in the darkness of the place. The beats of the songs vibrate on your skin, and you almost scream with him and the rest of the night club a famous chorus of a song. You can’t help but be unable to stop laughing and giggling, forgetting you came in the first place with Shoko and her friends, being in your own bubble with Satoru.

His hands slide dangerously down, bringing you even closer, if that was possible. You bat your lashes, and his head leans towards you as he licks his lips. His eyes never leave yours, and the way your mouth moves each time you sing the lyrics, he can’t stop looking at your lips and tongue. He grins, both singing at the same time, hips rolling against each other. One of his hands grabs your ass, and at first startled, you don’t complain one bit, tilting your head to the side and continuing to dance. You started to be hot, giving a glance to the side where you could see Shoko and Utahime dancing together meters away. You open your eyes wide when you suddenly see them kiss without a care in the world.

You nudge Gojo, making him look.

“What ? You didn’t know ? They are dating,” he laughs, saying that is if it was basic facts. Basic facts that you didn’t have. Your mouth is hanging low, and you chuckle as you look back at his mischievous eyes.

“She never told me ! What ?”

“She told me she thought you knew when Utahime came to sleep once at your shared apartment,” he said in your ear so you could hear him well. You try to recall, and remember her indeed coming, and yes they were touchy, but you didn’t stay long with them as you had to study for exams in your room. But now, it actually made sense to you. They indeed looked very close, and she often told you she was going outside with her. 

“I didn’t notice !” you exclaim, going on your tiptoes to say that in his ear as well. He shrugs, making you turn around so you could be back against chest, hands gripping your stomach.

“You’ll ask here later,” he whispers, wanting to keep your mind tracked on him instead.

You roll your eyes, and continue to dance against him. Your body grew hotter each time his hips rolled against your butt, lips brushing on your neck, hands sliding your body and lingering on your skin. To the point you wondered how far it would go, and if this dance in between two friends wasn’t that innocent anymore. 

“Let’s get some fresh air,” he says in your ear, looking at you through half lidded eyes. Satoru felt like he would snap at any moment and surely act on his needs and wants. He tried to keep a cool head, but the way your body danced so tantalizingly against him for the past 20 minutes made him grow needy and impatient for more. Fuck, a bit more and he would have a massive boner that would be impossible to hide.

You accept, and he brings you with him outside. The cool air wakes up your senses, leaving the dim lights and heavy atmosphere. He leans against the wall, passing his hand in his hair and eyes never stopping to look at you. You were just so clueless of his craving for you that it was infuriating. Why were you so adamant on not seeing all the hints he kept dropping here and there ? Did he have to be more direct ? He never met someone as blind as you before, it was incredible but annoying at the same time.

“You okay ?” you ask concerned, stepping closer.

“Hmm, just got overwhelmed for a second here,” he answers vaguely. He couldn’t say he was getting way too drunk of you. Or wait, maybe he should. 

“You should have told me, Gojo, we could have-”

“Satoru,” he interrupts you suddenly. 

“What ?” you ask confused.

“Satoru. Stop calling me Gojo, y/n. Call me by my name,” he corrects, taking your hand and making you step closer to him.

“Alright, S… hum, Satoru,” it felt weird pronouncing his name that just rolled down your tongue like honey. And damn, Satoru just got blessed by the Gods the moment he heard it finally be pronounced by your pretty voice and lips. He waited for you to call him like that by yourself, but you always kept that invisible barrier, never saying it. He got tired of it. Wanting for you to just say it finally. 

“You know, Y/n, I’m tired of waiting,” he starts to say, thumb caressing your hand up and down. You look at it, heart beating faster and wondering why he was doing that and what he was meaning exactly.

“Waiting for what, Satoru ?”

“You’re so dense sometimes, y/n. And that makes me mad,” he sighs, blue eyes boring into yours so intensely that it makes your knees falter.

“Mad ? I did nothing wrong,” you defend yourself, frowning.

“Oh yes, you did,” he whispers, bringing you even closer, his free hand sliding on your cheek and tilting your face to the side. 

“Satoru-” you start to say, surprised by his proximity.

“Y/n…” he cuts you, almost chanting your name like a goddamn prayer before smashing his lips against yours. You open your eyes wide the moment his lips move and he kisses you like a starved man. His hand cradles your face, bringing you intimately closer, his other fingers intertwined with yours. God, he dreamt about kissing you again since the moment he tasted heavens weeks ago.

Your eyes flutter shut, and you let out a moan of surprise. He swallows it, parting your lips to have access to your mouth, tongue caressing yours. Fuck him, you tasted so sweet it was addicting. His hips press against yours, rubbing slightly and making you lose your mind. You answer the kiss, fingers wrapping in his hair and tugging on it to deepen whatever was happening. 

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Heart bursting out of your chest. But Gojo Satoru was kissing you. And it wasn’t like the lip balm scene in the bathroom. This, right here, was a real kiss. One of pure pent up passion and craving, a need beyond the Gods. Satoru just wanted to devour you, and you were melting against him. The moment you parted to catch back your breath, he couldn’t stop and let you even be away for too long, that he kissed you again, again, and all over again until you lost track of time.

The kiss became messy, burning hot, wanting more. His hand that was on yours, lets it slide under your cloth. You shivered, his fingers cold on your skin. He trails on your thigh, centimeter by centimeter, before he gropes your ass. You moan, and he chuckles as he sucks on your lower lip before starting to kiss down your neck. God, were you dreaming right now ? What was happening was real ?

“You drove me crazy, y/n, so crazy. Did you realize that ?” he utters against your throat, mouth biting on your skin and you can’t help but let out a hiss of both pain and pleasure.

“Not at all-”

“Damn, you’re so clueless. But it’s cute,” he snarls before chuckling slightly, tongue darting to taste your skin, inhaling your bewitching scent at the same time. You didn’t know what to answer, still shocked by what was happening. He goes back to kissing you, seeing you won’t say anything else.

But then, some people are heard coming outside. Yet, Satoru doesn’t stop. You try to, but he was way too lost in the feeling of finally having you to himself, even if it was for a moment.

“Satoru- wait. People are coming out,” you try to say in between sloppy needy kisses.

“Let them see, then” he mutters against your lips.

You feel heat rushing in your lower abdomen, but you come back to your senses and hit the top of his head. He lifts his face, pouting as he massages it.

“Ouch, what was that for ?” he whines, trying to kiss you again. But you put your hand against his mouth to stop him.

“People are going to see us, I don’t want to make it a show,” you warn, trying to calm down your beating heart. Satoru raises his eyebrows, but then he kisses the inside of your hand, grabbing your wrist and looking at you through half lidded eyes.

“Let’s get back inside then,” he muses, giving one last tantalizing kiss on your pulsating point, and drags you behind him.

You follow him, still mind blocked by what happened just now. You pass by people, and Suguru joins Satoru. He still drags you with them, as the black haired male said that he, Shoko, Utahime and their other friends took a table to be able to drink all together. You came, sitting in between Satoru and Suguru, both giving each other a knowing look. Suguru grinned at you, in a way that made you think he knew what happened in between you and Satoru.

The following time spent, Satoru kept his arm around your waist, thumb caressing your skin while talking and joking around. You couldn’t help but be lost in thoughts, playing back in your mind the whole kiss, and whatever Satoru said to you. You started to overthink, wondering if it meant anything for him, or if it was just in the heat of the moment. You barely kept up with the conversation, and Gojo noticed it all.

He decided then, without warning, to scoop you in his arms in front of everyone and walk towards the dance floor, avoiding the people around that were moving.

“Satoru, what the hell ?” you exclaim, squirming, before he puts you back down on your feet.

“I wanted to dance with ya’. Don’t you recognize it ? It’s the song we danced to in your bathroom,” he says, and you blink, once, twice, before realizing. You were so lost in thoughts that you indeed didn’t recognize it at all. He really messed up your mind here.

“Oh- yeah, you’re right,” you say slightly nervously.

“Ah, don’t look at me like that, let’s dance !” he grins to ease the atmosphere and calm down your nerves, before twirling you around and not letting you have time to think in anything else rather than following his moves. Against your will, like last time weeks ago, you ended up bewitched, laughing back loudly with him, swinging in his arms.

The lingering touches were still here, and the rest of the night in his company made you wonder if whatever happened outside the bar was just your imagination, or not. Not long after, you barely remember what happened, only that you had fun, then got home, and fell on your bed half asleep like a dead body. Everything after this dance was blurry, aside from the pretty eyes of a certain someone. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

The next morning, when you woke up, you had a pounding headache. Water, you needed water. You groan, opening your eyes as you stand up from your bed and go to fetch a glass of water in the kitchen. As you walk slowly, still very tired from last night and barely remembering what happened after, you bump into Utahime that greets you.

“Hey y/n ! Slept well ?” she asks, taking her bag as Shoko arrives from behind and slides her arm around her waist, kissing her cheek. Right, you remember that Gojo told you they were dating.

“I feel like I slept for days… Are you guys going outside ?” you ask in a groggy and sleepy voice, entering the kitchen now and drinking water to calm down your thirst.

“Yeah, we go on a date. I’ll sleep at her house so don’t wait for me !” exclaims Shoko as she grabs the keys from the table at the entry, putting then her shoes. You wave at them, smiling softly as they kiss before closing the door behind them. You were so caught up in your studies session before, that you only realized now how obvious it was that they were dating.

You decide to go take a shower, feeling sweaty and gross. As you let the warm water roll down your muscles, your mind drifts back to the party, and the whole… makeout session with Satoru. You had so much fun, you couldn’t deny it. But you couldn’t help but feel nervous, wondering what would happen next with Gojo. Was it just like that, with no strings attached, for him ? Did he regret kissing you ? What was he thinking now ? You were sure to not give yourself some high hopes, because why in the first place Gojo Satoru would be interested in more with you, when he made it clear that he didn’t do relationships ? And you still didn’t feel confident enough at the idea of him being genuinely interested. Yeah, it was maybe better like that. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. 

When you step out of the shower, your phone rings on the counter of the sink. You almost gasp when you realize it’s Gojo calling you. Your heart is hammering in your chest, nervous, and shaking hands grabbing the device. Maybe you should answer…

“Hello ?” you start, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Y/n, I thought you were dead,” the voice of Satoru is cheerful as always, and you feel like nothing of what happened yesterday was real.

“Almost,” you sigh, walking towards your room after having finished drying yourself.

“How are you feeling ?” he asks, some teasing in his voice.

“I just took a shower, so better. But yeah… tired,” you explain while searching for clean pajamas to wear today. You didn’t plan to go out, anyways.

“Too tired to see me ?” he muses, like a tentation. You blink, wondering if he wanted to meet you. If it was the case, you didn’t know if you had the courage to face him again.

“Well, not really ?” you chuckle slightly awkwardly.

“Perfect, I’m in front of your door. Open,” he suddenly says.

“What ?” you answer, not believing what he just said.

“I’m here, so open the door,” he repeats.

“Oh wait up- I’m putting some clothes !” you exclaim panicked, starting to rush towards your clean underwear to put it on.

“Hey, I wouldn’t mind if you greeted me naked,” Satoru jokes. You roll your eyes.

“Shut up,” you finish the call and once fully dressed, you walk towards the door.

Fuck, that wasn’t good. What will you say ? Will you be able to look at him in the eyes ? That would be too embarrassing ! You try to brace yourself, and after a deep breath, you open the door only to face a Satoru in grey sweatpants and wearing a tight black t-shirt. Holy shit. Why did he have to look hot as hell ?! Now, you tried to not look at his body instead of only his eyes.

“Hi,” you say, looking away as you turn around to let him enter.

“Why aren’t you looking at me ?” he directly asks as he closes the door behind him, having no tact. You gulp, and then look briefly at his eyes before continuing to walk.

“What are you talking about ? I looked at you,” you shrug nonchalantly.

Satoru grabs your arm and spins you around so you could face him.You felt his burning gaze on your face, and it made you twice nervous.

“Don’t ignore me,” he orders you, a slight pout in his voice

“I’m not ignoring you,” you retort, frowning.

“Then look at me,” he brings you closer, demanding. You groan, annoyed, and finally lift your eyes to meet his blue orbs. His pretty face directly reminded you of the hot kisses and very dangerously close dances you both shared. You start to fluster, feeling warm now.

“Here you go. Hey, what’s going on with you ? You didn’t answer my texts either,” he whines, meanwhile his thumb slowly caresses your arm as if it was natural to do so.

“Texts ? I didn’t- I was too tired to answer,” you explain, remembering seeing them when you woke up.

“Hmmm… right,” he whispers, narrowing his eyes as he lets your wrist go. You walk back towards your room, expecting him to follow you, without glancing back.

“Why are you here ?” you question, trying to sound as casual as possible. You sit on your bed, and Satoru just leans on your doorframe, crossing his arms against his chest and eying you up and down.

“I wanted to come see you, can’t I ?” he answers scoffing, as if what you asked was ridiculous. You felt a tension growing in between the two of you, and it made your stomach twist.

“Of course you can,” you reply more softly, slightly lifting your face to look at him.

“Y/n, did I do something wrong ?” he asks without waiting, squinting his eyes.

“What ? No-” you disagree and open wide your eyes, shaking your head at what he just said.

“Do you regret what happened yesterday ?” he cuts you in mid sentence, stepping towards you slowly.

“Uh ? I… No. I don’t. Why are you asking that ?” you chuckle nervously, looking around at your room as if it suddenly was more interesting. Why were you acting like that ?  You take a deep breath, looking back at Satoru that is facing you now.

“You seem tense. Are you lying to me ?” he questions, both of his hands caging you on the bed on each side of your waist, face right in front of yours.

“I’m not,” you try to seem confident.

“Are you sure ?” he purrs, leaning towards you, minty breath mingling with yours.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“So if I kiss you right now, you wouldn’t mind ?” His lips are brushing against yours.

“... no,” you swallow hard, unable to move, flustered and suddenly just wanting him to kiss you senseless.

“Good,” he grins at your words before stepping back, leaving you breathless and beyond confused.

“Why didn’t you ? What ?” you frown, looking at him as his smile stretches. You suddenly felt like an idiot.

“So you want to kiss me again ? Didn’t take you for a greedy girl,” he taunts, one hand on his hip and eyeing down smugly. You bite your lower lip, pissed now and feeling ashamed.

“Satoru, don’t play with me,” you glare at him, and he chuckles. Ah, he longed for that stare again. Here it was, displayed just for him.

“Just answer me, sweetheart,” he continues, tapping his finger against his hip and you can’t help but look at his muscular arm, and then at his sweatpants hanging low, before stopping to his pretty pink lips. He angered you, making you be so confused, and pushing you in doing things or saying things you wouldn't usually.

“... Fine. So what. Yes, I want to kiss you ! What’s wrong about that ?” you snap, gesturing with your hands.

“Everything,” he drawls, boring his eyes into yours.

“What ?! Nothing is wrong ! You are the one that kissed me yesterday ! Why can’t I now ?” you retort, pissed, standing up from the bed to face him better.

“I never said that you couldn’t,” he shrugged, smiling wider when seeing you getting so worked up.

“But you make it sound like-” you trail, slightly feeling like you were trapped in this conversation, forced to admit things you never wanted to admit to him because of how embarrassing it would be.

“Y/n, the wrong thing here is that you want to kiss me, yet you don’t. What ? Are you a pussy ?” he mocks, leaning down to be at your height, making it so it could feel humiliating to you.

“I’m not a pussy,” you answer, clearly angry at him and yet knowing he did it on purpose, but God, it worked.

“Then prove it,” he whispers.

“I fucking hate you,” these are your last words before grabbing him by the collar and smashing your lips against his. He smiles through the kiss, immediately embracing you and wrapping his arms around you while tilting his face to the side to deepen the kiss. You move your lips together, all this pent up frustration getting poured in this intimate moment.

“You see when you want ?” he murmurs and he pushes you down on the mattress, climbing on top of you before kissing you back, tongues caressing each other. One of his hands supports him, and he slides his other fingers against your stomach, under your shirt. You shiver head to toes, both because of pleasure but panic too.

You wanted this, knowing it would lead to something more. But you were scared too. Scared that once you will surely sleep with him, he would leave you and it would stop here, being treated like a one night stand and nothing like you wished. Satoru directly senses the tension in your muscles and posture, slowly smoothing you as he kisses your neck.

“Relax…”

“Satoru,” you pronounce his name, your voice holding more emotions than you wanted. He looks up at you in the eyes, and tenderly, his hand caresses your cheek.

“You don’t want this, y/n ?” he asks more softly, slightly frowning.

“I do, it’s just…”

“I won’t force you into anything you don’t want,” he directly says firmly, to make sure you would understand the depths of his words. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Satoru, I’m sorry but, I don’t want to be just a one night stand, or sleeping like that without feelings. It’s not what I want with you, so let’s stop before it’s too late,” you finally admit, looking away ashamed. You were bracing yourself for whatever answer he would give you, hoping it wouldn’t hurt too much.

“Y/n, who talked about no feelings ? I have feelings for you, and I don’t want it to be a one time thing. I thought I made it clear already, I’m not… using you or anything,” he whispers, his face betraying how hurt he is by your words, and his hand on your cheek tightens slightly.

“But- you said you don’t do relationships,” you whisper, somewhat feeling guilty.

“You said that too.”

“But I’m talking about you right now, Satoru. You said relationships weren’t for you, and with all these rumors going around… I really thought you wanted no strings attached and just did all this for fun and nothing more,” you retort, shaking your head.

“The rumors ? Look, y/n, I don’t know what rumors you heard about me, but I don’t care. I know what I said, and I was wrong. I completely, and utterly fell in love with you. Fuck, that’s scary to admit. But God, I love you, I truly do. Everything about you made me fall for you a little bit more each day. So no, me kissing you, me wanting this… is not just for ‘fun’, it’s because it’s you,” he finally admits, cheeks turning red as he looks into your eyes in hope of pouring all his feelings into your soul, to make you see how sincere and vulnerable he was right now.

“What ? You love me ? Me ??” you exclaim in disbelief.

“Yes, you. How can I say this without sounding creepy… Ugh. I’m not very good with all this, but I’m trying. Alright. Since Shoko talked about her new ‘roomate’, I was directly intrigued. She showed me pictures, and my first thought was how pretty you looked. And then she brought the cookies you made… You know I have a sweet tooth. When Shoko proposed to Suguru and me to come hang out at her house, I was excited to finally see you in real life. And since the day we officially met, I kept falling for you. I thought it was obvious, I was always flirting and hitting on you, but you kept brushing it off. I was serious all along, really. I know you see me as someone immature that never stops joking around, and yes, I am. But I swear, my feelings are no joke…” he explains, before chuckling awkwardly and passing his hand in his hair, “Wow, I talked a lot, sorry, ahah,” he finishes, looking at you embarrassed. And you are flabbergasted, mouth half open from shock. You swallow your saliva before gathering your thoughts.

“No, no, don’t apologize. It’s... I am the one being sorry. I truly thought that someone like you would never be really interested in someone like me. I know it’s just my insecurities talking. But, it’s hard to believe it sometimes, you know ?”

“Someone like you ? You mean an angel ? A Goddess ? The love of my life ? My future wife ? My muffin cake ?” he says half jokingly half seriously, trying to make you smile. And here you were, chuckling slightly at his attempt of lightening the heavy mood.

“Satoru… don’t be dumb,” you whisper, while his thumb caresses your cheek tenderly, before softly pecking your lips without warning. You fluster at his gesture. It looked so natural.

“Uh-uh. I’m for real ! Come on baby, you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen and I’m being serious. You’re perfect the way you are, and yours truly is here to show you the truth about yourself,” he ends his sentence by kissing your lips more passionately this time. 

You couldn’t believe it. Gojo Satoru was in love with you. And you both were kissing, intimately, on your bed, after his confession that you never in a billion years expected to receive aside from in your dreams. His fingers slide back on your stomach, and his tongue plays with yours as he puts his knee in between your soft thighs right against your core.

You let out a moan of surprise, and his thumb comes to gently touch the bottom of your breast, before grabbing it in his hand and kneeling the fat with care.

“So soft, you’re so perfect,” he compliments you, and that makes you feel gradually more at ease. His lips stay on yours, playing with your nipple that hardens in between his fingers. Your breaths are becoming ragged, and he takes off your shirt inch by inch. The moment you are half naked, you feel the coldness of the room in dark contrast from the warmth of your bodies. You shiver under his burning gaze, and Satoru licks his lips.

“You’re too pretty, I can’t believe my eyes,” he utters, and his lips trail down your neck in wet kisses before sucking on your breast. You let out a noise of satisfaction at his hot tongue licking your nipples, his knee still grinding softly against your clothed cunt. His fingers slowly approach your shorts and caress your inner thighs before teasing at the edge of the tissue.

“Can I ?” he asks, and you nod, eager to feel his touch. His digits go under your shorts, and touch the wet patch of your panties. He grins, clearly smugly, biting softly on your right nipple. His middle finger then presses on your clit, making you jolt, going on a circular motion.

“You’re so wet and I didn’t even go down all the way. How cute,” he teases, and you tug on his hair to make him shut up. He lets out a laugh, and surprises you by finally slipping his hand inside your panties, sliding down your dripping folds. His thumb goes to relieve your poor clit, while another finger caresses your entrance and carefully goes in. Your toes curl and you breathe faster, moaning.

“So so cute,” he whispers to himself, shamelessly staring at your facial expressions, loving the way your mouth parts when his digit curls inside you and hits your G-spot. He sucks on your neck, marking you up and inhaling your scent before letting his fingers move faster. He notices how your thighs start to shake every time he teases your sweet spot, and once he feels it’s enough, he slides another finger, thumb still caressing your clit.

He kisses you back, drinking your whimpers and ragged exhales, already drunk of your body when he barely tasted you. Talking about tasting, he was dying to see and lick your juices. With one hand, he gets rid of your shorts and panties, while the other is still bullying your insides. He moans when he sees your glistering cunt, all wet from pleasure, and he was just imagining himself sinking in between your thighs. He goes faster, until he brings you to the edge and makes you cum all over his hand. His lips are on yours all the way, while you are shaking and trying to gain back a normal level of consciousness. Once you ride down your high, Satoru brings to his face his dripping fingers.

“Ah… that would be a waste, don’t you think ?” he coos, and you look so embarrassed, eyes wide open.

“Satoru, it’s not-”

“Shee, easy. You know I have a sweet tooth,” he stops before sucking on his own digits, eyes almost rolling down at how tasty you are.

“Fuck, so sweet,” he moans, and you look at him through half lidded eyes. He made you feel so good, and you just wanted to make him feel good as well. You take all the courage you need, before kissing him back and tasting yourself. You slide your hands down his torso, caressing his abs through his slutty shirt, excited already. Slight hesitantly, your hand goes down his v-line before caressing his hard dick through his grey sweatpants. Satoru lets out a pleasured hiss, biting your lower lip.

“Y/n, pretty, if you go down here I don’t know if I will be able to keep it slow with you,” he says in between ragged breaths while you continue to caress his throbbing dick. 

“I want to please you too,” you answer, looking at him in the eyes, sliding your hand in his boxer and taking in your hand his warm cock. Shit, you did it. You can’t believe it. But you don’t waste any time, and slowly your hand goes up and down, staring at the way he bobs his head backwards and how his adam apple moves.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans, hair falling over his lashes as his eyes are glossy from pleasure. You continue, faster. You notice all the precum on his tip, and you didn’t know from where all this confidence came, but you went down on your knees. Satoru opens his eyes wide.

“Hey, sweetheart, no need to-” he cuts himself in a short breath as your sweet mouth kisses and gives a kitten lick on his tip. He swore if he didn’t have some self restraint, he would have cum all over your face.

“Holy shit,” he hisses, and you slowly use both of your hands and your mouth as you start to suck. His fingers go on your head, helping you in the movement, and his legs get more on a manspread. The scene was to die for : you, on your knees, in between his thighs, sucking his dick while Satoru looked like he was on cloud nine, flushed cheeks, lips parted and moaning. He takes off his shirt in one go and throws it on the side, his hands caressing you.

“Doing so good for me- yeah, just like that, fuck,” he babbles, and you continue up and down, following his lead. When he feels he is about to cum, he suddenly stops you and you look up at him surprised. He lifts you up and pins you on the bed, making you gasp. 

“Sorry sweetie,” he whispers, kissing you, and then he slowly starts to open your thighs. You become self conscious, and try to close them. But the hands of Satoru are strong enough, and he gently pry them open back.

“Don’t be embarrassed, y/n, I already saw it all earlier,” he teases tenderly, before lifting your leg and kissing the inside with passion.

“I swear I’m trying to stay sane, but I’m going crazy at how hot you are, y/n. If it was only for me, I would have brought you to pound town starting the second we kissed yesterday,” he admits, biting your thigh before getting settled against your cunt. You can’t help but laugh slightly at him saying ‘pound town’, yet you can’t help but feel yourself grow hotter and hotter at his words.

“We were on public, so-”

“You think I cared about that ?” he stops you, eyes more serious than usual.

“Knowing how shameless you are, no,” you tease, and he grins back.

“Hmmm, you know me so well. I should reward you for that, what do you think ?” he taps his dick against your wet clit, and you shiver, back arching in response.

“Yeah… Do you have a condom ?” you ask, going on your elbows to look at it better.

“In the pocket of my sweatpants,” he answers nonchalantly as he takes the object out of his pocket like he said. He gives you the smile of a winner.

“Don’t tell me you brought it here knowing we would fuck ?!” you exclaim, and he makes you calm down as he rubs his dick against your cunt, you moan slightly.

“Uh… well, yeah ? Hey ! Don’t look at me like that ! And I wouldn’t call it ‘fuck’, but ‘make love’, okay ? And it was just in case, look, I did well,” he defends himself, opening it before slowly rolling down the condom around his cock. It was, to say the least, big. Would it even enter ? He would stretch you out so much ! 

“What ? Should I call you a good boy for thinking about it ?” you snarl, using your nervousness as a way to be sassy.

“I’m the one doing the praising here, baby,” he corrects, kissing your lips to ease your mind and grabbing your hips to bring you towards him. He slowly smudges your juice over his dick, before softly, and very very gently, entering you.

Your breath gets ragged, and he whispers words of praise in your ear as he pampers you of kisses. Fuck, Satoru thought that he could die in your pussy. And he hated that the condom was stopping him from feeling it well and good, wanting it to be skin to skin, but safety first. His thoughts started to drift that if he managed to make you his wife and future mother of his children, he could have all the excuses of hitting it raw. But that was a question for another time.

“So tight,” he mutters, kissing your forehead before finally hitting his hips all the way. You both take a deep breath, and you arch your back. You let out a ‘fuck’, and Satoru starts to move his hips. One of his hands comes to grab both of your wrists and pin them over your head, fingers tightening around it while slamming his dick inside your cunt. He lifts himself slightly to rub against your G spot, and you keep moaning more and more of pleasure.

Satoru kisses you passionately, his free hand cradling your head to bring you impossibly closer. The pleasure was so good it made your head spin, forgetting everything around you, time, reality, aside from Satoru. His smell, his skin against yours, his kisses, his tongue, his hands, his words of praise and love, everything, everything but only him. 

He switches on the side when he realizes he might cum again. He makes you straddle him on top, and he puts his hands on your waist to stabilize you. You sink back on his cock.

“Come on pretty girl, move for me, ‘know you can do it, yeah ?” he asks, grinning at you while licking his lips. He makes you grind softly, and then you start to move up and down, each time falling back on his hips and feeling his dick all the way your insides. Your breast bounces at each thrust, and you try to go faster while he keeps you straight.

“Doing so well, yeah, you can do it,” he praises you to continue, kissing you tits before licking them. His hands grab your ass and his fingers dig into the soft flesh, partying them while jerking slightly his hips to dig his dick deeper inside you.

“Hey, don’t get tired on me, baby,” he coos when he notices your fucked out face, slowying down without realizing. 

“Want me to do it for you ?” he asks, and you nod, moaning as you let your head fall backwards. He takes the opportunity to kiss the hollow of your throat.

“Ahh, poor y/n is too exhausted, how sweet… What would you do without me, uh ?” he chuckles, which vibrates against your skin. You glare at him, but he doesn’t let you answer as he smashes his lips against yours.

“Raise a bit your hips… yeah, just like that y/n,” he commands, and when you do so, he suddenly brings you strongly down, and you choke on a strangled moan of pleasure.

He slams his hips, hammering inside your dripping cunt. The pleasure gets suddenly more intense, and you feel like it wouldn’t take you long before cumming. Satoru feels the same, like a possession controlling him, wanting more and more.

“I love you, y/n, fuck- so… damn much… and, and I don’t say that words easily, so, ahhh… you better believe me-” he struggles to pronounce as he gets pussy drunk, cursing in between groans of utter pleasure at the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock.

“I love you too,” you whimper in a desperate way, at the brink of orgasm. When Satoru hears you saying these words, the ones he dreamt of receiving from you, he bursts inside the condom, feeling like he ascended Heavens.

You cum right after, and fall back on him. Satoru wraps his arms around your back to cradle you against his chest, kissing your sweaty forehead. He catches back his breath, face and tip of the ears red.

“You did amazing,” he whispers, kissing your cheek and then your lips.

You answer the kiss lazily, feeling so tired. He gently lifts your hips, taking off his cock and then the condom. He makes you sit back down on his thighs, and he throws the used rubber inside the bean of your room. He smiles when it lands successfully. He looks back at you, stars in his eyes.

“You can’t deny that we are the perfect match now, hmm ?” he whispers in the intimacy of the moment, smiling at you. You chuckle slightly, shaking your head before dropping it back down in the crook of his neck.

“You’re right, Satoru. I have to admit defeat,” you answer.

“Atta girl,” he muses, and then he suddenly scoops you in his arms, making you gasp. He kisses your forehead again, and gives you a cheeky grin before walking towards the bathroom.

“Now let’s get you cleaned, yeah ?” he proposes, and you caress the nape of his neck.

“I can do it myself,” you say in a soft voice.

“Never, I’ll do it. Don’t you know what aftercare is ?” he scoffs offended, pouting.

“Yes I know, thank you very much,” you roll your eyes as he opens the door of the bathroom with his feet.

“Really ? Here I thought you were a bit dumb here,” he jokes, looking away to tease you. You pinch the skin of his nape.

“You are the one that is dumb,” you tease back.

“I’m not the one that got fucked dumb,” Satoru adds, putting you down softly on the edge of the bath.

“Oh, shut up,” you get embarrassed and nudge him, which only results in making him laugh.

“But you love me for my sass,” he coos, patting your head.

“Yes, I do,” you answer in a softer tone, and smile at him. He smiles in return.

“So, can I call you muffin cake like in Shrek ?” Satoru asks batting his lashes.

“No.”

The first time you met Satoru was rather embarrassing. But who cares, anyway. Maybe you were made for him. And yes, Satoru wasn’t out of your league. Because here he was, so in love with someone like you. Yes, you, someone amazing, and he promised that he would keep repeating it. From now, to his last breath. 

THE END 

[chsvok]

RUNWAY WALK.

pairing. photographer! toji x model!reader

suggestive ig??? this was my first time trying something like this… 1.3k wc. sort of proofread, i finished this at 2:40am on a school night.

You walked into the studio expecting the same, regular routine.

However, it was when you entered that you felt a weird shift in the air. Everyone was serious—too serious. The usual photographer that you had built a great bond with? Gone. Now replaced with a man whose build screamed “dangerous”. His broad shoulders, wide muscular back, thick huge arms that could make his shirt sleeves pop any second, and an intimidating scar on the edge of his lips in a way that made your stomach churn.

He looked up, gaze sharp and attentive to everything surrounding him, dressed in all black like he had just left from shooting a cover at Vogue Magazine.

He watched you intensely, eyes raking all over your body, practically undressing you as you walked towards him in a cute little miniskirt and baby tee, your heels making a clack! sound as you stepped on the white tiled floor.

“You’re not the usual photographer. Definitely not what I was expecting. I’m [name].” Your voice was soft, laced with honey as you tilted your head up at him. He was tall. Gosh, was he sent from Heaven?

He licked his lips, curling them into a teasing smirk.

“Toji. And, neither are you, sweetheart. I can already tell you’ll be a distraction.” You froze, caught off guard by his comment.

“Now, you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna haul your pretty self ready to work?”

You blinked, astounded. Your heart hammered in your chest and you felt heat rushing up your neck. The words seemed to just echo in your head as you turned around and headed towards your changing room.

Your eyes, however, widened as you saw the lacy pink slip dress and the baby pink sheer robe that you had to put on. You never got nervous for shoots, never. It wasn’t remotely normal. But the reaction he was getting out of you? Jesus.

You slipped into it slowly, your fingers dragging across over the delicate soft material as you caught sight of yourself in the mirror.

You drew quick breaths in and out, your hands slightly clammy as you pulled the door open. The robe clung to your skin as you walked back towards the set where everyone, and him, were waiting.

Everyone’s eyes, including his were locked on you. Set had grown quiet because you? You looked out of this world.

The lights were slightly dimmed, a barely noticeable pink hue in the back to add some color.

“Off.” His voice was rough, demanding. But oh-so-hot that had you thinking things that were unprofessional. Your fingers twitched as you brought your hands towards the pink sheer material.

“Slowly.” His camera was on you, ready to capture what screamed like the most seductive shoot you’ve ever had to do. You obeyed, the robe falling slowly to your feet like water.

It felt like everyone there was holding their breaths, the scene almost too suggestive to watch.

The camera flashed once. Then twice. And continued on as you began posing.

“Good,” Toji murmured, stepping slightly closer but not too close as to invade your space. “That’s it, just like that sweetheart.”

He spoke command after command. Camera flashing one word after the other.

“Fuck, that’s great. Part your lips a little.”

His voice was intimate. Controlled. While the other photographers seemed to talk and direct, the only person you could see and hear was him.

It wasn’t about posing or trying to find the right angles anymore. No. You were performing. For him, and only him.

The final click of the camera came, Toji’s exhale and lowering of the camera signaling the shoot had ended.

“We’re done.” His voice was husked as his eyes were dead set on you and nobody else. You reached down, grabbing your robe and wrapping it around your body once more to cover every inch of the exposed skin under the sheer fabric of the slip dress.

“Shit that was….”

“Intense?” He interrupted, a smirk plastered on his lips as his gaze raked over you. You nodded and watched as he took slow, deliberate steps toward you.

“Oh, sweetheart, you haven’t seen or felt intense just yet.”

Right, of course. Your heels clicked against the floor as you walked back to the changing room. You exhaled once you entered the room, letting the robe fall slowly from your shoulders.

However, you paused when you heard a knock.

“You looked real good out there, princess.” His voice could be heard from the outside.

“Oh really?” Your voice drew out, a smile hard to contain dancing on your lips.

“Couldn’t look away.” You bit your lip. That makes two of us, you thought. You hadn’t been able to look away from the very moment you stepped foot in the studio. You contemplated. Do the most unprofessional thing you’ve ever done in your entire career—or go home pissed, knowing you had the chance at possibly the best fuck of your life and you let it slip right through your fingers.

The answer was simply obvious.

You opened the door and grabbed his arm, pulling him into the room. He whistled as he eyed you. “Needy, huh?”

“Shut up.” You said frustrated and his eyes darkened as he reached for you, cupping your face as he connected his lips to yours.

His mouth was rough—slightly needy, like he had been holding himself back all day. You melted into the kiss, fingers grasping his shirt tightly as he backed you up against the wall harshly. His hands roamed your body—touching, feeling, what he couldn’t get his hands on earlier.

His pushed his tongue forcibly into your mouth and you moaned into him, your body arching closer towards him as his hands slipped down to grip your waist. His hands were rough, and you were sure he was gonna leave marks.

He pulled back, breathing heavily. “Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.” He studied your face—watching as your eyes drooped and the tiniest bit of saliva rolled down your chin like he was trying to memorize every inch of you, and not with a camera this time.

reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (10)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Supermodel!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 8.7k

Aliyah's Notes: another long chapter!!!! had a bit of an issue with this chapter. didn't know where to go, and how to finish it but i'm pretty satisfied with the ending... hope y'all will feel that way too #scared

You were going to throw up.

It was 6 in the morning, and your apartment was filled with a pre-party energy—Aisha fluttering around checking final details, making sure everything was perfect for you. But for you, the weight of the day felt unbearable. The engagement party was only a few hours away, and you were supposed to feel excited, but instead, all you could feel was anxiety.

You stood in front of the full-length mirror, staring at your reflection as the fabric of your saree clung to your skin. It was a beautiful one—pale yellow with blue hues, simple, elegant. But as you looked at yourself, all you saw were flaws. Your stomach, the slight curve of your hips, your arms felt weird. Every inch of you felt exposed, like you were wearing your insecurities on display for the world to see. The saree that was supposed to make you feel confident now felt like a prison, the tightness around your chest suffocating you.

You tugged at the fabric, your fingers trembling as your heart raced in your chest. “I don’t know, Aish,” you said, your voice faltering. “I just… I don’t think I can do this.”

Aisha, who had been running around your place, stopped and turned to you with a frown, concern written all over her face. “Y/N, you look perfect. Rafe is going to love it, I swear. You look incredible, seriously.”

But her words didn’t reach you. They never did. They didn’t fix the sinking feeling in your stomach, the pit that had been growing since you woke up. You didn’t feel incredible. You felt like a mess. Like a lie. You felt like you didn’t belong in this world of glitz and glamour, not when the weight of your own past was pressing down on you.

You turned back to the mirror, avoiding her gaze, and exhaled shakily. “It’s not about Rafe,” you said, barely above a whisper, as if the words were too heavy to say aloud. “It’s… it’s everything. Everyone.”

She didn’t speak at first, but you could hear her footsteps approach slowly, her presence gentle and calm as she stood beside you. “What do you mean?”

“They’re not here,” you murmured, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “My family—they haven’t been here. They don’t care.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and so did the tears running down your face. You quickly wiped them away, trying to maintain some sort of control, but it was useless. The reality of it all hit you like a tidal wave.

Aisah’s expression softened, and she placed a hand on your shoulder. “Look, I know it’s tough, but you left for a reason. They treated you like an animal—you were nothing to them and look at you now. You have everything you want, you’re surrounded by people who love you, and you’re engaged to an amazing guy.”

“But you don’t get it,” your voice broke. “I haven’t spoken to them in years, Aisha. I haven’t heard from them since… you know… My Amma and Appa… they’ve never cared to fix what happened. And now they’re not here for this huge moment. They’re not here for me. And I just feel… I feel like none of this matters without them.”

You could feel the tightness in your chest grow, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest. Every time you thought about them—your parents, your siblings—it felt like the world was falling apart again. All the years of silence, the anger, the bitterness, the feeling of being abandoned… it was all still there, festering under the surface. You couldn’t help but wonder if you were always going to feel like the outsider, the one who wasn’t good enough for their love.

Aisha watched you quietly for a moment before speaking again, her voice softer. “Y/N, I know this isn’t easy. But this isn’t about your family. This is about you and the life you’re building. You’re so much more than your past, and tonight you get to shine. You’re not doing this for them. You’re doing it for you.”

You closed your eyes, letting her words sink in. You still feel the weight of it all, but as Aisha gave you one last reassuring look, you felt a small spark of resolve. Maybe you didn’t feel perfect. Maybe you never would. But tonight, you would step into this new chapter of your life, for you, and not for anyone else.

“You’re right,” you whispered, putting on a fake-ish smile. “Let me get over this. There’s too much to do today.”

The hours before the engagement party moved in a blur of preparations, but the nerves clung to you like an unwelcome guest. After Aisha helped you steady yourself, you dove into the checklist for the day, hoping to lose your anxieties in the bustle. Your hairdresser and makeup artist arrived promptly, transforming your apartment into a whirlwind of brushes, palettes, and fabric draping.

Despite the chaos, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone every few minutes, the screen lighting up teasingly with messages from Rafe. He’d been training all morning, but somehow still found the time to send you a steady stream of texts.

Rafe: Do you think this party will have snacks? Asking for a hungry basketball player.

You: There’s a buffet, Rafe. You’ll survive.

Rafe: Buffet doesn’t count. I want something good, like that thing you brought over the other day.

You: If you’re fishing for more biryani, the answer is no.

Rafe: Wow, first you take my penthouse, now you refuse me food? This marriage is starting off rocky.

You: This marriage hasn’t even started yet.

The exchange brought a smile to your lips despite yourself. He had this way of teasing that felt like a lifeline at the moment.

“Are you blushing?” Aisha teased from where she was meticulously laying out your jewelry.

“What? No,” you said, far too quickly. “Why would I even be blushing? You’re nuts… absolutely… absolutely nuts…”

“Oh my fucking God! You are!” she said with a grin, leaning in to glance at your phone. You pulled it away before she could peek at the screen, but the damage was done. “God, it’s so cute how he makes you smile like that.”

“You’re actually insane,” you mumbled, heat creeping up your neck.

She only laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “Denial is a river in Egypt, babe.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop your lips from twitching into a small grin. Rafe sent another message.

Rafe: So, what are you wearing?

You hesitated for a moment before replying.

You: Why? Thinking of copying my outfit?

Rafe: Maybe. But only if it’s good.

You: It’s a saree. Pale yellow with blue embroidery.

Rafe: Does it have one of those drapey things?

You: Yes, Cameron. That’s literally what makes it a saree!!!

Rafe: Got it. Drapey thing = saree. Send me a picture.

You didn’t respond, setting your phone down and pretending to focus on your makeup.

“Your husband?” Aisha asked, noticing your sudden quiet.

“Future husband,” you corrected with a finger up. “And obviously.”

“What’d he say?”

“He wants a picture.”

“Send him one. He’ll probably lose his mind. And let’s be real—you could use the ego boost.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. Aisha wasn’t wrong. The way Rafe looked at you sometimes—or even texted you—had a way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the room. 

The hairdresser finished with your slicked half-up half-down hairstyle. Aisha brought over the jewelry: delicate gold bangles, matching earrings, and a necklace that felt heavy against your collarbones.

“Perfect,” Aisha said, stepping back to admire the finished look.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror. The saree hugged you gracefully, the embroidery catching the light with every movement. The makeup brought a glow to your skin, and the hair framed your face perfectly. For the first time all day, you felt... good. 

Before you could overthink it, you picked up your phone and snapped a quick selfie—just enough to show the saree and the soft smile playing on your lips.

You: Fine. Here.

The reply came almost instantly.

Rafe: ...You’re killing me here.

Your heart skipped a beat at the simplicity of the words.

Rafe: Thank you brown people for existing, and making you. Rafe: Truly humanity owes them. Rafe: Forget the engagement party. Let’s just elope.

You laughed out loud, shaking your head.

You: Not happening. See you tonight.

His response made your stomach flutter in the strangest way.

Rafe: Can’t wait to become your fiancé, sweetheart.

The car rolled to a stop in front of the venue, its soft hum fading into the gentle buzz of the world outside. Through the tinted windows, you could see flashes of light—camera shutters capturing every moment like hunters seeking prey. The glow spilling from the venue, golden and inviting, felt overwhelming, almost oppressive. It danced off the grand arches of the villa, the soft flicker of string lights crisscrossing the courtyard casting a magical glow on the scene.

For a moment, you sat frozen, your fingers clutching the delicate fabric of your saree. It was meant to represent happiness, a tie to your heritage that should have brought you pride. But tonight, it felt more like a shackle, reminding you of the pieces of yourself you’d lost along the way.

“You okay?” Aisha’s voice came softly from beside you, laced with the familiar tone of concern that only she could carry so effortlessly. She looked radiant in her pale pink dress.

“Yeah… I… I’m fine,” you replied, the lie clumsy on your tongue.

Aisha raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced but deciding to let it slide. The car door opened, and she stepped out first, her head held high as though she didn’t care about anything—and knowing Aisha, she probably really didn’t care. When she turned to offer you her hand, her expression softened—a silent gesture of reassurance. You took it hesitantly, forcing your legs to carry you out of the car.

The cool evening air brushed against your skin, but it wasn’t enough to soothe the heat in your chest. Cameras clicked relentlessly, their flashes a blinding assault as the whispers began to ripple through the crowd.

“She’s a bit late.”

“She looks beautiful.”

“Why didn’t Rafe escort her out?”

“What is she wearing?”

Each word clawed at you, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed image you wore like an armor. You kept your head down, focusing on the rhythmic click of your heels against the gravel path as you made your way toward the villa’s entrance. The towering structure loomed over you, its ivy-draped walls and ornate carvings reminiscent of a bygone era. The cascading floral arrangements, all in deep crimson and soft pink hues.

Everything added to the suffocating pressure weighing on your chest.

Inside, the air buzzed with laughter and conversation as guests began to fill the sprawling garden. Long tables stretched across the courtyard, their surfaces glimmering with candles and vases bursting with fresh blooms. Everything was picturesque, perfect. Yet, all you could feel was a rising sense of dread.

“I need a minute,” you whispered to Aisha, not waiting for her reply before walking rapidly inside the villa.

You navigated the winding hallways with purpose, your steps quick but unsteady. You needed to escape—to find a quiet corner where the world’s eyes couldn’t follow, where you could let the overwhelming storm inside you settle, even just for a moment. The getting-ready room—it was the perfect refuge, a place to breathe and gather yourself before you faced the crowd again.

But as you rounded the corner, your steps faltered.

Rafe was there.

He leaned against the doorframe with an ease that felt infuriatingly effortless, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his tailored white suit. The soft lighting played tricks with the lines of his face, his tousled hair looking as if it had been styled by the wind itself. The open collar of his shirt gave him an air of nonchalance that made him seem untouchable—except for the flicker of something warm in his eyes as he met your gaze.

“You planning to bolt already?” he teased, a crooked smile playing on his lips. His voice, low and smooth, carried the same blend of humor and arrogance that had always annoyed you.

You stopped, caught off guard. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

Rafe pushed off the doorframe, taking a slow step toward you. “Waiting for you,” he said, his gaze dragging deliberately over your saree. His smile deepened as his eyes met yours again. “You look beau—”

“Rafe, I can’t do this,” you blurted, your voice trembling as the words spilled out before you could stop them.

The smile faded from his face, replaced by an expression of concern. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” you said, your voice breaking. “The people, the cameras, the party—it’s all too much.”

Rafe’s brow furrowed as he stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. “You’ve done this a hundred times before,” he said softly. “What’s different now?”

You hesitated. “It’s not important,” you muttered, hoping he’d let it go. 

But Rafe wasn’t one to back down easily.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice steady but insistent. “Talk to me.”

You sighed, the lump in your throat growing heavier. “It’s stupid, okay? I’m just… I’m not used to this.”

“That’s not true.”

Your jaw tightened, and you looked away, your voice dropping to a whisper. “They’re not here.”

“Who?”

The question made you flinch, but you kept your response measured, your tone distant. “No one. It doesn’t matter.”

Rafe stepped closer, his presence grounding but not invasive. “It matters if it’s upsetting you.”

“It’s just… my family. We’re not close anymore, okay? And moments like this just remind me of that. But it’s fine. Whatever.”

His eyes softened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say more. The details of your fractured relationship with your parents, the abuse, the years of silence—it wasn’t something you wanted to unpack here, not with him. You hated being this exposed, hated feeling so small under the weight of it all.

Rafe’s expression shifted, the concern in his eyes deepening. Slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against your arm. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady but kind. “Look at me.”

“I can’t,” you shook your head, refusing. “You won’t understand.”

“Then help me,” he urged, his hand still resting lightly on your arm. “Talk to me.”

The lump in your throat grew, the words threatening to choke you. “I left them,” you started. “But I had a reason. I couldn’t continue living there. We were poor, so poor, Rafe. Some days we were barely fed and barely had a roof over our heads,” your voice trembled, and you forced yourself to not close your eyes to not relieve that part of your life. “They forced me to se—” but you stopped yourself. Not ready to admit it to Rafe. “—whatever. I just don’t feel like I belong anywhere.”

His jaw tightened, his grip on your arm firming slightly. For a moment, he said nothing, his blue eyes scanning your face as if trying to piece together the fractures you’d worked so hard to hide. Then, quietly, he spoke.

“You belong here,” he said firmly, his voice steady. “With me. Tonight, this party, all of it—it’s for us. And I don’t care who’s not here, because I’m here, okay? You worked hard to get where you are, and you can’t let your past, or anyone, ruin it for you.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the fog of your doubt. Slowly, he reached for your hand, his fingers curling around yours with a warmth that steadied you.

You walked back toward the door, Rafe’s hand lightly resting against your back, guiding you through the villa. As you stepped into the bustling courtyard, the noise of the party hit you again—the sound of laughter, the clinking of glasses, the faint hum of music. It was impossible to escape the energy, the pressure of eyes watching.

You took a deep breath, trying to center yourself. Tonight wasn’t going to be easy, but you’d already survived the worst of it. With Rafe by your side, you could handle whatever came next.

The first person you spotted was Nina, her smile bright and easy as she chatted with a few guests by the drink station. She caught sight of you and waved, excusing herself from the conversation. Her dress—an elegant gold one—flattered her frame as she approached.

“You two disappeared for a while,” Nina said with a teasing glint in her eyes, though there was a hint of concern there, too. “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah, don’t worry. Everything’s perfect,” you waved your hands to not worry her. “By the way, Rafe, this is Nina Ramos—my agent and my second mother.”

He extended his hand with a charming grin. “Nice to meet you,” he said smoothly. “YN’s been telling me a lot about you.”

Liar.

Nina took his hand, her sharp eyes flicking between the two of you. “Has she now? All good I hope,” and you nodded instantly. “Well, this party is important and beautiful. Maybe all your overthinking served you well—you look absolutely perfect, honey. You too, Rafe.”

“Thanks,” you blushed at her compliment.

Rafe smirked. “She does look perfect, doesn’t she?”

You gave him a playful look, your lips curling into a reluctant smile at his compliment. 

“I’ll leave you two to it,” she said, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “But it was great meeting you, Rafe Cameron.”

“Likewise,” he replied, and with one last smile, Nina disappeared back into the crowd.

As soon as she was out of earshot, you turned to Rafe with a small smile. “She’s a good friend of mine,” you said softly. “You’ll like her.”

Rafe gave you a raised eyebrow. “She seems cool. I can see why you’re friends.”

Before you could respond, the sound of laughter caught your attention, and you spotted Aisha, her arm linked with a tall, broad-shouldered man. Her husband, Ishan—someone you hadn’t seen in a while. You had to blink to fully register the change in him, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. 

Without thinking, you broke into a smile and made your way toward them, Rafe following behind.

As soon as Aisha spotted you, her face lit up with recognition. “Look who decided to surprise you,” she smiled, her voice higher because of how excited she was.

You immediately wrapped your arms around her husband, stepping into a hug. He chuckled, holding you tightly as he returned the embrace. “I’ve missed you,” you said, squeezing him as he laughed.

Ishan was like an older brother to you. He’d been there through some of the toughest times in your life, and his easy going nature always managed to bring you a sense of peace. His deep laugh and the familiarity of his embrace were exactly what you needed.

“I’ve missed you too, behen,” he said. “I come back to New York and I’m being told you’re getting married to Rafe Cameron. Imagine my surprise when Aisha told me.”

You pulled back from the embrace and laughed awkwardly. “Ah, yes, Rafe… Surprise, surprise, right?” 

Ishan furrowed his brows but you moved your hands. “I can’t really believe it… It’s really happening…”

“No, no! It’s not like—uh, well, okay, it is, but it’s like…” you turned your head to find Rafe behind Aisha making a cross with his hands. “I love it. He’s so, so, so funny and charming—and very committed, you know…”

“Uh huh, I see,” Ishan nodded and laughed at how weird you were being. “Can’t believe he’s gonna marry a loser like y—”

“So, you’re actually here. It’s been too long—how’s Switzerland?” you interrupted, and he sent you a look because he hated when you did that. “Sorry… but how is it? Did you climb every mountain and, like, yodel on top of a glacier?”

He chuckled a little and shook his head. “No, no yodelling, but I did eat tons of chocolate. I bought some for you too.” You did not even have time to reply to him that he extended a hand toward Rafe, his tone both warm and challenging. “So, you’re the infamous Rafe Cameron. My wife gave me a run-down on you. Some good things… and some questionable ones.”

"Your wife? Wait, who’s your wife?" Rafe asked, his confusion evident.

Oh, crap. You totally forgot to explain the whole family tree situation. Rookie mistake.

Aisha sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes as she raised her hand. "I’m the wife, genius. Seriously, YN—did you not tell him?"

"I’m sorry!" You blurted, cringing. "It completely slipped my mind. It’s just so normal to me that I didn’t even think to—"

Rafe interrupted you, and took Ishan’s hand in his. His smirk disarming but his handshake firm. “Well, I hope the good outweighed the questionable.”

“Debatable,” Ishan replied with a shrug. “But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt… at least until you give me a reason not to.”

You felt a knot in your stomach as you glanced between the two. Ishan wasn’t being hostile, but his protectiveness had always been intense, like that of an older brother who wasn’t afraid to test the waters.

Rafe, to his credit, didn’t back down. His smirk deepened slightly, and he shrugged with an air of playful confidence. “Fair enough. I’ll do my best not to disappoint.”

“I’d hope so,” Ishan said lightly, though the undertone was clear. His gaze softened as it flicked toward you, his voice gentler now. “You’ve got a good one here. Don’t mess it up.”

“Trust me, I know how lucky I am,” Rafe replied, glancing at you with an expression so sincere it caught you off guard.

The words made your chest tighten in a way you weren’t prepared for, a warmth spreading through you despite the nervous energy still bubbling beneath the surface.

Aisha rolled her eyes, slapping her husband’s chest. “Alright, alright, that’s enough intimidation for one night. Let’s get some drinks, baby.”

Ishan laughed, ruffling Aisha’s hair affectionately before turning to you. “If he gives you any trouble, you know where to find me, behen.”

You grinned at the familiar term of endearment, feeling a wave of gratitude for his presence. “Yup!”

With a wink, they both disappeared into the crowd, leaving you and Rafe standing together.

The second they were out of earshot, Rafe let out a dramatic sigh, running a hand through his hair. “So, is everyone in your life this protective, or is it just me getting the special treatment?”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “What can I say? People care about me. Better get used to it.”

“Noted,” Rafe said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “I’ll add it to the ever-growing list of things to keep in mind when dealing with your very... passionate circle of people.”

An awkward silence stretched between us as you scanned the guests arriving. You recognized a few—Aisha’s mom, aunts, and cousins, mingling with Nina’s friends and siblings. You couldn't help but wonder if your wedding would be filled with people who didn’t really know you either.

Rafe stepped closer, standing next to you, and flashed a playful grin. "So, Ishan… he’s your… older brother, right?" He asked, clearly trying to figure out the family dynamic.

You turned to him with a soft laugh, shaking my head. "No, not my brother," you said, before pausing for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Okay, let me explain." You drew in a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "Ishan’s more like the brother I never had—well, I do have brothers, but when I left home, I hadn’t really connected with them. But then I came to the U.S. and met Aisha, and Ishan just sort of stepped into that role. We’ve been through everything together—good, bad, you name it. He’s always had my back. No blood relation, but he might as well be."

Rafe’s expression softened as he absorbed that, nodding. “Sounds like he’s a pretty solid guy.”

“He really is,” you smiled, warmth creeping into your voice. “He and Aisha have always had my back, and they’ve been together for years now. They make a great team.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he said, grinning. “He’s got that same intimidating vibe as she does. You can practically feel it.”

You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Exactly! Aisha and I used to joke about it. She always said, if I needed someone to scare off a date, I’d just call Ishan. Aisha’s got that sharp edge, and Ishan? He’s got the muscles.”

“I can definitely see that…” he said with a thoughtful nod before asking, “So, what kind of dynamic do you think we have?”

You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze for a moment as the question hung in the air. “Uh, well…” You cleared your throat. “I mean, we’re… we’re like, uh, a work in progress? Yeah, that sounds right. Like one of those ‘under construction’ signs, you know? A little chaotic…?” You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Chaotic? Really? You’re gonna call us chaotic?”

“Yeah, well, have you met you?” You shot back, crossing your arms. “You’re like a walking disaster zone.”

He laughed, leaning back. “Oh, I’m a disaster? You’re the one who keeps on throwing shade. For no reason at all.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to mind your own business,” you snapped, the words biting as you shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re the one getting all up in my space with your weird questions.”

“I’m not asking weird questions,” he shot back, his voice rising to match the sharpness of yours. “And do you seriously think we’re chaotic?”

You gave him a side-eye, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Chaotic is an understatement, Cameron. We’re a disaster—with a capital D.”

He laughed, the sound low and amused, as though he didn’t take you seriously. “Oh really? You’re one to talk. You practically live for the drama.”

“Me? I live for drama?” You scoffed, pivoting fully to face him now, hands planted firmly on your hips as you let your eyes travel up and down him in a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. “You’re the definition of drama. You can’t even breathe without making everything about you.”

His lips curled into a grin, the kind that made your stomach twist in a way you refused to acknowledge. “You’re so easy to rile up.”

“You’re a jackass,” you muttered, shaking your head, every fiber of your being wanting to push him away—but not sure if you meant physically or emotionally.

He leaned in slightly, as if to throw another jibe your way, but instead, his eyes gleamed with mischief. “I think you’re just mad because I’m better at this than you.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you closed the distance between you, but the move was more impulsive than you intended. You instantly regretted it, realizing just how close you were to him now, the heat from his body practically radiating against yours. You swallowed, trying to mask the effect it had on you. “Better at what? Being a complete asshole?” Your voice wavered with a sharpness that betrayed how much it bothered you. “Yeah, Rafe, you’re a pro at that.”

He leaned in even closer, and this time, his grin wasn’t just playful—it was dangerous. “You love it,” he murmured, voice dropping an octave, making your heart skip a beat.

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you rolled your eyes, trying to keep control of the situation. “Oh, fuck off. The only thing I like is when you finally shut up.” You crossed your arms tighter, trying to distance yourself emotionally, but it was hard to ignore the proximity between you two, the tension hanging thick in the air.

He was close now, too close, and it was suffocating in the most unsettling way. His breath was warm against your skin, the space between you closing so much that you could almost taste the words on his lips before they even came. 

“Is that so?” His voice was low, teasing, his grin widening as his gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there just long enough to make you feel it.

You couldn’t help it—you gulped, the way he was looking at you making your pulse race, something deep inside you stirring against the cold front you were trying so hard to put up. “Yeah, that so,” you managed, but your voice had a tremor to it now, and you hated yourself for it.

He smiled, the kind of smile that could make you want to punch him and kiss him all at once. “Well, in that case,” he said, the words dragging as he leaned even closer, his breath ghosting over your ear, “I’m just gonna keep talking.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried enough weight to send a shiver down your spine.

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to scream at him or kiss him.

You could feel his presence pressing in on you, the heat between you two almost unbearable, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. The world outside of him seemed to vanish, the hum of the city, the weight of your thoughts, everything melting away until there was only the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You knew you should pull away, should say something, anything, to break this tension, but the words wouldn’t come.

He watched you closely, his eyes locked onto yours, a hint of something unreadable flickering there—something playful, something dangerous, maybe both.

“You look like you’re about to say something,” he said, his voice thick with amusement.

You opened your mouth, trying to push past the lump in your throat, but it felt like the words were stuck. Instead, you just looked at him—really looked at him for the first time in what felt like forever. He was close, too close, but in that moment, it felt impossible to back away. He made you feel things you didn’t want to feel, things that you didn’t understand.

“I don’t wanna say anything,” you muttered, the words slipping out as a mix of frustration and something you refused to acknowledge.

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow, that devilish smirk curling on his lips.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, but you didn’t say a word. You simply nodded, lips pressed together in a thin line, trying to hold onto some semblance of control.

He closed the gap between you, leaning in with deliberate slowness. You could feel the heat of his body inching closer, the soft scent of his cologne filling your senses, until his lips barely brushed against your cheek. The kiss was featherlight, teasing—infuriatingly so. It was enough to make your stomach twist with desire, but you refused to let it show. You wanted to press your thighs together, to feel that familiar ache between your legs, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he was affecting you.

“Well, I have something to say,” his voice was low, rich with satisfaction as he lingered just inches from your skin. “I think… You’re not as immune to me as you like to pretend.”

The words sent a jolt through your chest, but you shook your head, pulling your hands up to his chest, your fingers pressing into the fabric of his shirt, then gliding slowly to his neck, tracing the line of his jaw before resting at the back of it. You felt his pulse under your fingertips, and your breath hitched.

“I don’t… I don’t pretend,” you said, your voice quieter, but the frustration bubbling underneath was unmistakable. “You’re just an idiot,” you continued, pressing your palms harder into his skin. “And so fucking frustrating.”

He let out a dark chuckle, the sound dripping with arrogance. “Look at you.” His hand reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. “You’re getting all worked up. You want this, don’t you? I can see it. You’re practically begging me to fuck you right now with those eyes. Is that what you want, baby?”

Every nerve in your body screamed yes. You could feel your pulse racing, your skin burning as his words settled deep inside you. The ache between your legs was undeniable now, but your mind fought back. Your heart was pounding in your ears, screaming no. You couldn't let yourself fall for this again. You remembered the last time—the cold distance after everything had gotten too real, the way he’d pulled away, leaving you shattered. You couldn’t be left like that again. 

But then, the look on his face—those sharp eyes, glimmering with something dangerous. He looked so good, so fucking good, in that white suit that fit him like a second skin. The way it molded to his chest, the tightness around his biceps, made your breath catch in your throat. You couldn’t help it. You wanted to touch him, feel the strength of his muscles under your fingers, wanted to bite at his neck, press your lips to the smooth skin there and feel him shudder beneath you.

God, it was maddening. You hated how he made you feel so out of control, how every inch of him seemed to draw you in. Your body was betraying you, and you hated it.

But what about him? Did he feel the same pull? Did he burn for you the way you did for him, or was this just another game for him to play, another conquest to add to his long list? The uncertainty gnawed at you.

Rafe’s eyes never left you as you fought to suppress the desire stirring within you. But he knew it. He could see it in the way your breath hitched, in the way you couldn’t stop your hands from brushing against him, testing the limits, even as you pretended to resist. 

But something shifted in him. He straightened, his posture changing, the smug grin slipping ever so slightly as his gaze flickered to the entrance of the party.

It wasn’t just any glance—it was sharp, instinctive. He’d caught sight of someone familiar, someone whose presence immediately shifted the air in the room.

You followed his line of sight, your chest tightening as you noticed who it was: The Cameron family. Sarah, Wheezie, Rose, and Ward. Their arrival had a different weight, one that Rafe clearly felt deep in his bones. You saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes darkened for just a moment, before he quickly masked it with a flash of that signature cocky smile.

Ward, tall and imposing in his crisp suit, moved with the sort of authority that always seemed to follow him. Rose, on his arm, was more subdued but equally elegant, her gaze sharp as she surveyed the crowd, clearly scanning for something or someone. Their eyes met Rafe’s across the room, and the tension in his body was palpable.

His hand, which had been resting lightly at your waist, now tightened, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress in a way that made you wonder if he even noticed. But you noticed him. You noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he suddenly seemed aware of every movement, every gesture, every word spoken around him.

He cleared his throat, stepping back slightly from you, though his body remained rigid, still keeping you close. “I think my parents just walked in,” he said quietly, as though speaking more to himself than to you, but the edge in his voice was unmistakable.

You looked at him, the reality of the situation settling in. His family—his father, especially—was here, and suddenly everything felt different. The air seemed heavier. The playful banter between you both had shifted into something more guarded, more calculated.

“Yeah, I noticed,” you whispered.

Rafe took a slow breath, his eyes never leaving his parents as they moved further into the room, exchanging greetings with guests. He didn’t speak immediately, as if preparing himself for whatever role he was about to play in front of them. His jaw clenched again, but he quickly forced a smile back onto his face, turning to you.

“Let’s go say hello, yeah?” His voice was smoother now, though you could still sense the unease beneath the surface. It was almost like he was pulling back, retreating into the version of himself he showed them—controlled, perfect, everything his father demanded of him. “Is that okay with you?”

No.

You nodded, feeling the weight of his tension on your shoulders, but you followed him. The closer you got to his family, the more you could feel the pressure build. Rafe's movements were more deliberate now, like he was preparing to play his part in the family drama. You couldn’t help but notice how differently he held himself around them—like a man who knew he would never measure up, no matter how much he tried.

Rafe paused just before reaching them, throwing you a look that was both apologetic and protective. It was as if, for just a moment, he needed you to understand how much this moment mattered. But you weren’t sure if it was about impressing them or surviving the encounter with his family’s expectations. Whatever it was, you could feel it thick in the air, something unspoken but undeniable.

Rafe’s steps slowed as you reached his father, Ward. He was a towering figure, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, his presence seemingly taking over the entire space. Rose, his stepmother, stood slightly behind him, elegant and poised, her eyes a sharp contrast to Ward’s cool and calculating demeanor.

Rafe stopped just short of them, his hand still on your waist, but his stance had subtly shifted—he was guarded, unsure, like he was ready to retreat if the need arose.

“Dad,” Rafe greeted, his voice smooth but lacking its usual confidence. His posture was just a little too stiff, as if waiting for the inevitable judgment that would come with every interaction.

Ward's gaze lingered on Rafe for a beat longer than normal before he acknowledged him, his tone clipped. “Rafe,” he said, the smile on his face barely noticeable, more a polite curve of the lips than anything genuine. “You’re looking well.”

The words hung in the air, but they didn’t carry any warmth. It was a statement of fact rather than praise, and it made your skin prickle. You could feel Rafe tense beside you, his fingers tightening just a little, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he gave a small, practiced smile and nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”

You remained silent for a moment, unsure of where to fit in, but Sarah, ever the warm presence, was the first to step forward. She flashed you a grin, her eyes already lighting up with recognition. “Hey, YN!” she said enthusiastically, her voice a welcome contrast to the tension in the air. "So good to see you again!"

"Hi, Sarah," you responded, your smile easing a little, feeling comforted by her energy. "It’s good to see you too."

She pulled you into a friendly hug, and you found yourself relaxing into it. Sarah had this easygoing charm about her, a lightness that made you forget the weight of the room for a moment. She was everything Rafe wasn’t—effortlessly kind, bubbly, and generous with her affection.

“Wheezie and I were just talking about you,” Sarah added, and you turned to find a petite, younger girl standing a few feet away.

Wheezie’s face lit up when she caught your gaze. “Hi. I’m Wheezie. It’s cool to meet you.”

You smiled at her. “Hi, Wheezie. I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you too.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, clearly nervous. “You’re a model, right? That’s so cool. I’ve seen your pictures in Vogue!”

You blinked in surprise, warmth spreading in your chest. “You have?”

“Yeah!” Wheezie nodded enthusiastically. “You’re so pretty, and your outfits are amazing. How did you even start doing that?”

Her genuine curiosity was disarming, and for a moment, you forgot the tension hanging in the air. You leaned slightly closer, your smile becoming more natural. “It’s a long story, but I’ll tell you sometime if you want.”

Wheezie’s face lit up. “Really? That’d be awesome.”

Rafe, who had been watching the interaction silently, finally spoke up, his voice tinged with amusement. “Wheezie, you’re gonna scare her off.”

Wheezie flushed, but she grinned up at her brother. “I’m just being friendly.”

“She’s fine,” you said quickly, shooting Wheezie a reassuring smile. “It’s nice to meet someone who’s actually interested in what I do.”

Rose cleared her throat, interrupting the light moment. “Oh, we’re interested in you, dear,” she said, her tone honeyed but with an edge of condescension. “Rafe’s been so secretive about you, it’s about time we got to know you better.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you apologized with a polite smile. “I’m here now, though.”

“Yes, you are,” Ward interjected, his gaze narrowing slightly. “Rafe mentioned your career. It must be… demanding.”

You nodded carefully. “It can be, but I enjoy it. I’ve worked hard to get where I am.”

Ward tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “And maintaining that image must be just as hard. I imagine you have to watch every calorie to stay in shape for your work. Must be exhausting.”

The words hit you like a sharp slap, your chest tightening as old insecurities clawed their way to the surface. You forced a neutral smile, but your nails dug into the palm of your hand to keep steady. “It’s part of the job,” you replied carefully, your voice steady despite the storm brewing inside you.

Rose waved a dismissive hand, her eyes flitting over you in a way that felt equally invasive. “Don’t listen to him, honey. You look perfectly healthy to me. Honestly, I’d kill to have your body.”

Her words were meant as a compliment, but they were worse than his. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice quieter now.

Rafe stiffened beside you, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. “Alright, that’s enough,” he said, his tone firm, a warning laced beneath the words.

But Ward ignored him, his attention still on you. “We’re not saying anything wrong. She does look healthy… in a sickly way.” His smile was thin, and though the words were spoken lightly, there was an edge to them.

You forced another smile, but your composure was slipping. The weight of their attention, the veiled comments, the subtle dissection of your body—it was too much.

“I’m sorry,” you said abruptly, stepping back slightly. “Excuse me for a moment.”

The moment you stepped into the bathroom, the world outside seemed to dissolve. The faint hum of voices from the gathering became muffled as you locked the door and leaned against it, your chest heaving. You clutched your stomach, the ache inside more emotional than physical, as Ward’s and Rose’s comments echoed in your mind.

Your reflection in the mirror stared back, unkind and unforgiving. You pressed your trembling hands against the sink, breathing shallowly as the familiar sensation of panic crept up your throat.

No matter how far you thought you’d come, it was always there — lurking in the shadows, waiting for a moment of vulnerability. Your stomach churned violently, the pressure too much. You barely made it to the toilet before the wave overtook you.

Kneeling on the cold tile, you hated yourself for this relapse. Your body trembled as tears stung your eyes, the shame wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket. You knew better. Yet here you were, undone by a handful of careless words.

The door suddenly creaked open. Panic seized you as you tried to compose yourself, but it was too late.

“YN?” Rafe’s voice was low and tentative, laced with worry. He must’ve picked the lock.

You froze, your back to him, trying to will him away. “Go away, Rafe.”

He didn’t. Instead, he stepped inside, shutting the door softly behind him.

You heard the scuff of his shoes as he approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. “Please,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Just leave me alone.”

But then he was kneeling beside you, his presence warm and steady despite the storm raging inside you. His hand gently touched your back, and you flinched, but he didn’t pull away.

“I’m here,” he said simply, his tone quiet but firm. He reached out, gathering your hair and pulling it away from your face with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let me help.”

The knot in your throat tightened, and a sob escaped before you could stop it. You covered your face with your hands, shaking your head. “I’m so pathetic,” you choked out, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I promised myself I’d never do this again. I’ve tried so hard to move on, to be better. But it’s always there. It’s always waiting for me to fail.”

He paused, his hand stilling for a moment before he spoke. “You’re not failing,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’re human. You’ve been through a lot, and you’re still standing. That’s not failing, YN. That’s surviving.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and you finally turned to look at him. His blue eyes were fixed on you, full of a mix of anger and concern—not at you, but for you. He reached up, brushing a tear from your cheek with a gentleness that nearly broke you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked carefully.

You hesitated, your walls instinctively rising. But something about the way he looked at you—without judgment, without pity—made you feel safe enough to let them down.

“It’s… it’s complicated,” you began, your voice shaky. “I’ve struggled with this for a long time. Since I was a teenager. Modeling didn’t cause it, but it made it worse. Everyone always has something to say about my body—it’s too thin, it’s too big, it’s never enough.” you swallowed hard, your throat burning. “And tonight… your dad, Rose… they just hit a nerve.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and you could see the anger flickering in his eyes. But he didn’t interrupt, letting you speak at your own pace.

“I thought I was past it,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “But it never really goes away. It just… quiets down. Until something like this happens.”

Rafe nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. “I get it,” he said, surprising you. “Not in the same way, but I get it. The pressure, the expectations. Feeling like no matter what you do, it’s never enough.”

You stared at him, the rawness in his voice catching you off guard.

“I’m sorry for that,” you whispered, fresh tears spilling over. “And for what you saw.”

“Don’t apologize,” Rafe said firmly, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently. “You don’t have to apologize. Not to me. Not to anyone.”

His words cracked something open inside you, and the sobs came harder now, wracking your body. Rafe didn’t hesitate. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cried into his chest.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice steady and soothing. “I’ve got you. I promise.”

After what felt like an eternity, your tears began to subside. You pulled back slightly, embarrassed by the mess you’d made of his shirt. “Sorry,” you mumbled, wiping at your face.

Rafe chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t be. This shirt was ugly anyway.”

The small attempt at humor made you smile, even if it was faint. He stood, helping you to your feet, his hand steadying you as you wavered.

“You okay?” he asked, his gaze searching for yours.

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure. “I just… need a minute. Is that okay?”

Rafe hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave you alone. But after a moment, he nodded. “Alright… Take all the time you need. I’ll be right outside.”

As he stepped toward the door, you felt a pang of guilt. “Rafe?”

He turned back, his expression softening.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “For… this.”

His lips curved into a small smile. “Don’t mention it.”

“Are you serious right now?” Rafe’s voice was sharp, cutting through the murmur of conversation like a knife. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Rafe—” Ward started, but his son didn’t let him finish.

“No, you listen to me,” he snapped, his anger palpable. “If you ever talk to her like that, we’re done. I mean it.”

Your heart stopped, and you moved closer, careful to stay out of sight.

“Rafe, calm down,” Rose’s voice said, her tone exasperated.

“No,” Rafe snapped. “I’m not calming down. Do you have any idea what you just did? What your comments did to her?”

There was a beat of silence before Ward spoke, his tone dismissive. “It was just a harmless observation. She’s a grown woman. She can handle it.”

“Harmless?” Rafe’s voice rose, trembling with fury. “You don’t know the first thing about her, and you sure as hell don’t get to say shit like that to her ever again.”

“Rafe—”

“No,” he cut Ward off, his voice firm and unyielding. “You don’t get to do this. Not to her. If you can’t show her some respect for once in your life, then don’t bother talking to her at all.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

Your chest tightened, a swell of emotions rising as you listened to him defend you with such ferocity. For all his cocky bravado and sarcastic quips, Rafe had just shown you a side of himself you hadn’t expected.

A side that cared.

A side that would fight for you.

You stepped back, went back to the bathroom, giving him space to finish the conversation. But as you stood there, a small, genuine smile broke across your face.

When Rafe returned to the bathroom, his shoulders were tense, but his eyes softened when they landed on you. “Hey,” he said quietly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” you echoed, your voice trembling slightly.

“I’m sorry if I took too long,” he said, sitting beside you on the floor. “I had to take care of some—.”

“I heard you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You heard me?” his brows furrowed. “Heard what?”

“What you said. To them. Ward and Rose.”

“Oh…” his eyes widened. “I’m sorry if you think I stepped a line. It just really pissed me off what they said about you and thought that if you were going to see them again, they should know their li—”

“You don’t need to apologize, Cameron,” you interrupted, a quiet laugh slipping past your lips, the sound easing the tension in his shoulders. “Thank you, though…”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside the room fell away. “Of course.”

He stood and extended a hand to you, palm open and steady. You hesitated for the briefest moment, not because you didn’t want to take it but because the gesture felt like more than it was. When your hand slipped into his, his fingers closed around yours.

You stood, brushing invisible creases from your saree and adjusting the edges with nervous precision. Rafe’s eyes lingered on you, watching the delicate way your fingers moved, the subtle rise and fall of your shoulders as you steadied yourself.

When you glanced up at him, offering a soft, grateful smile, something in his chest tightened, and he knew he was done for.

“Okay, let’s do this,” you said, your voice stronger now.

He nodded, but as you turned toward the door, he couldn’t stop himself from saying it, even if you wouldn’t hear it. “You’re worth it,” he whispered, the words low and raw, like they’d been pulled straight from his heart.

He stood there, hand still tingling from where yours had been, a storm of emotions churning inside him. His mind raced, his heart pounded, and every inch of him felt consumed by something he wasn’t ready to name.

chapter eleven.

[checosbluespring]

secrets we keep (pt1) → mv1

max verstappen x perez!fem reader

genre: one night stand, teammates sister, pregnancy

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (male receiving), p in v, slight spit play, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything

word count: 3.1k

song: too sweet - hozier

sidenote: hi everyone! finally a new fic is here and it's a max one! this is going to be a two parter, so keep an eye out for the next one! please let me know if y'all have any ideas or requests for a fic (I write for all drivers), also not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3

♡♡♡♡

The roars of the crowd were loud as Max crossed the finish line, followed closely by Sergio. For a second there you had thought your brother would overtake the world champion, but nonetheless he fought hard and gave the team what they wanted, a 1-2 finish. 

It wasn’t often you got to go to your brother's races, maybe only a handful a year but you were lucky to be able to get the time off to join your niece and nephews for the Japanese Grand Prix. Sergio would topple over if he knew you had the hots for his teammate. Every time you have met with Max, it’s been very cordial. Polite hellos, asking how life in Mexico is, what you have been up to since he last saw you. 

A part of you wondered why he was so timid with you. Was it because of Sergio? Being the baby of the family left him feeling protective of you, but you don’t think that would affect how Max interacted with you. I mean you barely saw him. 

Watching the pair on the podium set tears in your eyes. You were extremely proud of your big brother and his teammate. 

Your dad absolutely adored max and had invited him to join us for a celebratory dinner after the race. Which to your surprise he happily accepted. 

You were staying at the same hotel that both the bulls were at, so reconnecting for dinner would not be difficult. After the race you decided to head back to freshen up and change your clothes into something a little more fancy. At the race you were wearing a white tennis skirt with a red bull polo tucked in. For dinner you decided to wear a  black  over the shoulder dress that fit you perfectly. Finally ready you walk down and see that only Max is waiting in the lobby. Your stomach turns at the thought of being alone with him.

Picking his head up from looking down at his phone he notices you walking toward him and waves shyly. “Hi y/n, looks like it’s only us ready” he said in a tiny voice. You are always so used to him being outspoken it kinda scares you a little. “hi maxie, you know how my family is with time management, they should be down here soon” you said with a laugh, not even acknowledging the nickname that slipped from your mouth. 

A sudden tinge of pink washes over Max’s cheeks and you feel heat radiating up your neck. Act cool, you keep telling yourself but you are so nervous. Max was all you ever wanted in a guy. Handsome, sweet, confident, the list could go on. You knew deep down though your worlds would never clash well. You lived in Mexico with your parents - working as a teacher. Max lived in Monaco and raced for one of the best teams in formula one history, surrounded by models throwing themselves at him. You couldn’t blame them, you would do the same, if you thought you ever had a chance. 

“No worries, I always have to wait for Checo to come to our team meetings” he laughed. “I bet, if there’s one thing my brother isn’t know for it’s being on time, thank you for coming to dinner with us though, we really appreciate it, I know my dad and brother do a lot”

With a smirk on his face something shifts “oh just your dad and brother, not you?”. You feel the breath knocked out of your lungs, just as you are about to open your mouth to respond, tiny roars make notice in the room and you almost fall at your nephew running to you, so you could pick him up. Silently you thank your nephew for the interruption. 

Dinner goes smoothly. You sat at the opposite end of the table with the kids, while your brother, dad, and max were deep in conversation. You swore that Max kept looking at you though, sneaking glances. 

As the check gets situated, all of you make your way out onto the busy streets of Japan. You hear your brother speak up “Y/N are you gonna come get ice cream with us” and while you were deeply contemplating it, you decided to pass up the offer and head back to the hotel. 

“No I think I'm gonna head back to the hotel and pack, I want to take the kids to get breakfast tomorrow morning before we leave” you say.

“no puedes caminar solo es tarde en la noche” (you can't walk alone, it's late at night) your brother worries. 

“Sergio, I'm fine, it's not that far from the hotel, I'll grab a taxi” before he could protest, Max jumped in.

“I can take a taxi back with y/n, I'm super tired after the race, and I'll make sure she makes it to her hotel room” 

“Are you sure Max?” Sergio asks.

“Yes I'm sure, it was a lovely evening, thank you for inviting me” 

Your family bids their farewells and walks away, leaving just the two of you waiting for a taxi. As you guys are picked up, you both don't say a word in the car, sitting in an uncomfortable silence. Max pays the driver and you thank him quietly. Making your way up to the floor where both of your rooms are, you stop at his first. “Thank you for bringing me back Max, I appreciate it” 

“Of course it's no problem, hey I'm actually not really that tired, do you wanna play Fifa or watch a movie?” he asks. Something deep down is telling you to decline. Spending time with him is just going to dig you deeper in a hole with how you feel about him, nonetheless, you can't let this opportunity go and accept this offer. 

Walking in you notice the room is ten times bigger than yours, with a balcony and jacuzzi tub in the middle of the bathroom. Max must notice your awe because he says “I don't know why they give us such big rooms, we are hardly ever even in here”

“Haha it's nice for Checo because the kids get to play around” 

“You are really close with them, aren't you?”

“They are practically my own, when their mom is out doing business I usually keep them, I also help homeschool them” 

“Well that's very sweet of you” he says while taking a seat on the bed, while motioning you to do the same.

“Do you want something to drink” he offers

“No I'm okay” you politely decline. You still can't believe this, you are in Max Verstappen's room all alone. 

“Okay let's put on a movie! What are you up for, should we do action” you sense a sudden shift in his mood, you can't quite place it, maybe excitement. You believe he can probably sense that you are nervous. The mention of action makes your ears perk up.“Can we please watch fast and the furious, I am on a mission to have all my friends watch it”

Max doesn't protest, just laughs quietly and nods, setting the movie in place. You make yourself comfortable and take off your big hoop earrings and heels- even though they werent big by any means they still hurt you. Once you are back in bed with him, you notice him looking at you.

“Is there something on my face?” You laugh

“No i just guess I never noticed how different but similar you look from checo”

“Really? How so?” You question

“Well for one, you are very pretty, but you have the same freckles that Checo does covering your cheeks and nose” Max’s comment has you feeling shy, you know you must be sporting a prominent blush across your face and neck. 

“well thank you Max, it's funny because growing up, i never had freckles, but i think being out in the sun for races and the kids karting tournaments have really brought them to surface” 

“That's interesting, I admire how close to your family you are, something I wish I had” he says so quietly you almost miss it. You don't know what possesses you to do this but you place your hand over his and say “you are always welcome in this family max, we all love you, and no matter where sergio goes next year- you will always be welcomed with open arms” 

He stares at you with a blank face- unable to tell what he's thinking you begin to think that was the wrong thing to say when suddenly he leans down a plants a gentle kiss over your lips. You gasp at the touch. Max pulls back with wide eyes and says “shit I shouldn't have done that, Checo will kill me if he found out”. Instead of agreeing with him, you keep your hand held tightly over his and whisper “he doesn't have to know”. That's all it seems to take for max to lean back in and start kissing you. 

You grab the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric in your hands. His palm cups your jaw, slowly deepening the kiss. Once his tongue makes his way in, you let out a quiet moan. 

Grabbing your hips, Max shifts your position so that you are laying on the bed while he towers over you. “You are so pretty y/n, been wanting to do this forever” he says while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. While you want to pour your heart out, your nerves stop you and all you can do is nod and say “want you so bad max”. 

He continues to kiss you, tracing his mouth up and down your neck and along the junction between your shoulder and neck placing feather-like kisses. There’s nothing more that you want then for him to leave a big bruise plastered for everyone to see but you knew that wasn’t possible. 

You grab his head and place your lips back on his. Moving his hand to your hair he grips it tightly, keeping you in his control. Slowly he rocks his hips down to meet yours, creating a union of moans to spill from the both of you. This must be the breaking point for max because he stops to take off his shirt and grabs your dress to do the same. Not before asking “is this okay”. 

“Of course it’s okay, I want all of you” you whisper out. His pants also come off in the process. Both of you left in your underwear. You could feel yourself soaked through your panties. Max moves his hand so that his thumb is slowly running along your slit through the fabric. A moan is pushed out of you with a quiet plea of more. 

Growing impatient you tug the straps of your bra down your shoulders exposing your breasts to him. This catches his attention because Max is on them immediately. Sucking and kissing them, basically worshiping them. “Fuck, these tits are perfect. They were practically popping out of your dress earlier, wanted to take you to the bathroom at the restaurant and just suck on them for hours” 

You would have never guessed Max to be into dirty talk but it’s a pleasant surprise. “I want you in me Max, please, I’ve been waiting for this” 

“How can I deny such a pretty girl? '' With that being said, Max gets up and walks to his bag to pull out what seems to be a condom. While he’s doing that, you shimmy your underwear down your legs and throw it somewhere in the room. Before he approaches the bed, Max takes his underwear off and you see his cock spring free. Your mouth instantly waters at the sight. He’s big, just like you thought he would be. Pale and veiny. Pink and wet at the tip.

You wanted him in you but not before you got a taste of him. You motion him up towards your mouth, so that his legs are on both sides of your shoulders. “I want to taste you, can I Max?” You said hoping your voice and eyes truly show the desire you have burning for him. 

“Go ahead sweetie, suck me off”

That’s all you needed to hear before taking the tip in your mouth, lightly sucking. Max groans at the sensation and places a hand behind your head for support. Popping yourself off the tip, you lick a long strip under his shaft, following the prominent vein that lies there. You place feather-like kisses on the head hoping to tease him. As you look up at him, you see his mouth slightly agape, eyes stuck on you. “Don't tease me baby, c'mon”.

You start to bob your head, up and down, making sure you move your tongue back and forth. You palm at his balls and hear a hiss, thinking he must be sensitive. 

“Fuck, you suck me off so good, this mouth was made for me, wasn't it y/n” 

You whimper at the words and try to push yourself further down his cock. Grabbing your head, he pulls you off and says “I need to get in you”. 

You nod your head fast and practically beg “please Max, please want you in me”.

As he positioned himself between your legs, he's looking directly at your core, you start to feel a bit insecure and try to close your legs, but he uses both his to keep them open. “You have such a pretty pussy, want to absolutely devour it” what he does next has you almost combust. He hovers his mouth over your core and lets a string of spit come done to coat you. Taking his index and middle finger he holds you open and lets another drop of spit fall on you. You are moaning so loud, you place your hand over your mouth to try and keep yourself quiet. 

Max places two fingers in you while simultaneously rubbing slow circles over your clit. You are desperate for him to get in you. “Max I'm good, you can get in me”.

That's all he needs to hear before he puts his condom on and sinks into you. The burn is unlike anything you have felt before. You were definitely not used to his size but the stretch was addicting. As he builds up pace, you place your hands over his back, your fingernails gripping onto his shoulders, it feels so so good. “Faster” you whisper. Max listens. You could already feel the coil in your stomach about to snap, what pushes you over the edge is Max’s dirty talk. “You wrap around me so good, best pussy I've ever had, what would people think if they saw my roommate's sister coming all over my cock” you can't respond, all you can do is moan.

Finally catching your breath you say “you feel so good Max, you are gonna make me cum” and you tuck your head into his neck licking a fat stripe near his Adams apple. “I'm gonna come too, come with me y/n”.

The next couple of minutes go by in a blur, you feel yourself clenching on his cock, cumming while he pumps in and out of you with his hand rubbing at your clit. He kisses you hard as he groans into your mouth. “Fuck that was good” he states and all you can do is nod. 

Max takes off his condom, and goes to the bathroom, returning in his underwear, with a warm washcloth. You feel embarrassed but you let him clean you up. You are left undressed so you ask if he could hand you your dress. The room is filled with an awkward tension. Max can tell because he lays down on the bed and pats it for you to lay with him. 

You feel like you should decline and be on your way, not wanting to overstay your welcome. But you genuinely don't think this will ever happen again and want to cherish what little time you have in the same proximity.  You lay with your head on his chest and his arm thrown over you with the tv playing in the background. Time passes quickly and within 30 minutes you hear soft snores coming out of max. You take this as your cue to leave. You slip yourself away and gather your belongings. Taking one last glance at him you smile and quietly make your way out of the room. 

You don't have a lot of time to reflect once you get back to your room because you have to shower, and pack for your flight in the morning. You don't know if you and Max will ever reconnect like that, but you are grateful for the time you shared. 

You don't see or hear from Max before you leave Japan, but maybe it's for the best. Your brother didn't expect anything and you are determined to keep it that way. 

The first couple of weeks back in Mexico were rough, slowly recovering from your trip. Around 6 weeks after being home and two more grand prix taking place, you feel sick, like a stomach bug has really knocked you down. It was so bad that you weren't able to go to the Miami gp like you wanted. 

Deciding it has been lingering for far too long you decide to go to the doctor. The first thing they ask you is if it's possible if you are pregnant. Your first thought is no, but you remember you and Max had hooked up around two months ago. You feel a pit in your stomach and your heart rate speeds up. You couldn't be right, he wore a condom, and you hadn't had sex for like a year prior to that. 

After you take your pee test, you have never been more scared or felt more alone. You want your mom here. After what felt like an eternity, the doctor came in with a smile and sat down. “Congratulations y/n you are pregnant”. The world came to a stand still and all you can do is cry. 

Because how in the hell are you going to tell your brother you are pregnant with his teammate's baby. How are you going to tell Max that you are pregnant? 

Simple. You won't. 

[stxrvel]

disclosure (6)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. platonic ot7 x f!reader for now content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, angst, reader becomes sus, fighting (in the wrong way), angry and mean jin? self-doubt. a/n. hi guysssssss!!! sorry it's taking me this long always, but i finally finished this part! i actually just finished it and it's almost 2am and i have to go to work in fivehours. i'm publishing this part as it is and maybe tomorrow if i have the time i'll look at it again, bc i'm really exhausted right now. and also please forgive me if there are any mistakes in the text;((((. but i hope you guys enjoy this 7k monster of a chapter and i'll see you next time!!

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The fourth book of your saga was a reflection of everything you had gone through when you moved with your family to the capital. You finished the third book when you had barely been in the city for a month and maybe that's why it didn't have a happy ending and why everyone who had read the trilogy had been devastated with that ending. It wasn't something you had planned from the beginning, but it wasn't something that ruined the plot either. It was actually much better than you had planned.

And when you finally finished with the trilogy, starting to write again wasn't hard, especially with so many mixed emotions and so much repressed pain coming back to the surface uninvited.

Maybe you hadn't been in connection with your strong feelings since then, when the city constantly reminded you that you had lost the only people you considered your true friends and the pain of their absence and the harsh reality was a knife burying itself in your chest over and over again. You hadn't felt this much since the moment you realized that they were able to live their lives without you, but you had to go through the mourning of losing them.

You hadn't felt this much since then, until that moment when, having been just a day since you had decided you would take the path of healing, you had to reopen the draft of your fourth book and find all those angry paragraphs, spit out words, piled up letters and whole pages filled with pure rage and pain; of disappointment and realization… of betrayal.

“Are you going to start again already? Don't you think you deserve a break?”

The words Yuna had spoken to you that morning were echoing in your head from the moment you read the first words of this draft and the memories began to well up, emotions making your hair stand on end and your throat close up.

It was almost funny to remember how incredibly angry you were when you first arrived in the city.

The city, with posters of Jungkook's face on every corner, with his performances on some screens or just teenagers talking about him and whispering about his music, it was practically impossible to escape it. The city, with radios blaring Yoongi's songs, in a cab or on public transportation, interviews blaring on TVs in shopping malls. The city, with the international news, which echoed so much, about the spectacular promises of modeling. The country couldn't be prouder to have representatives of that caliber, because the moment Taehyung and Jimin overtook the West and broke the international barrier, it was only a matter of time before the others followed suit and completely changed the idea of entertainment and media in the country.

The first months in the city were nauseating, when you had to get used to and overcome your emotions the hard way, fighting against the aggressive tide that all the time tried to drown you, and that was noticeable in every word and every scene of that book, and you were almost sure that if any of them read it, they would know immediately. If they wanted to know anything about you, if they were really interested, there would be no better way than through your books; in no other situation would you be so vulnerable.

You wondered, for a moment, if any of them would have read any of the books by now. If Namjoon would remember when you asked him for strange words to describe emotions and now they were captured in those impressions, or when you asked Jin and Hoseok for their opinion about the complex construction of your world and each of their peculiar and crazy details can be found in those pages. Just as your books had all the pieces of you, it also had crumbs of them, and you wondered if they would notice if they read it.

Don't you think you deserve a break?

Maybe you do. That's why you had decided to close that cycle once and for all, and there was no better way to do it than to finally start with the edition of this book. Of this fourth book, so strong in its toughness and determination, so vulnerable in its rage and palpable pain.

It was the cleanest and purest and truest version of you.

But as much as you deserved it, it felt more like punishment. Reliving those emotions and evoking those memories caused you more anguish and you didn't know if you could face a kind of shock therapy like that to finally let go.

“The editors said you'd be here.”

You saw Choi Dohyun standing, leaning against the door frame above the computer screen that still displayed the title of the first chapter of your fourth book. On a Wednesday at barely eight o'clock in the morning, the great CEO decided to set aside a few minutes of his busy time to gratify you with his presence.

His calm, serene and carefree expression was the contrast to the swirl of emotions that ran through that room, rising from the crown of your head. You could almost tell he wasn't venturing into the office because he could feel the tension radiating from your position at the desk. He must have even seen it on your face.

You sighed and barely waved at him, running your hands over your face, trying to ease your tense muscles a little.

“Is there a specific reason why you don't want the editors to read the book?”

Choi Dohyun was a mystery. You only knew about him from the three-hour conversation you had the day before, besides the strange looks he cast at Yoongi from his office entrance. He had shown himself to be a very open person and it was clear that he was an expert at making things work his way. You knew he had agreed to many of your conditions because what he would get in return was bigger than what it would cost him, which really wasn't too much, just enough to maintain a level of creative freedom that would allow you to access editorial support when you saw fit —because you knew that once you handed it over, it would no longer be entirely yours—and often businessmen reflected their own personalities in how they negotiated a deal.

Dohyun tried to come across as a fairly personable person; he tried to be understanding, communicative and open-minded, so much so that he reminded you of the comfortable security of an older brother. However, you could tell in that meeting that he held back too much; that he had hated the way Yuna used to interrupt him to ask him questions or how your brother would put too many buts in his mouth and try to get information out of him that he shouldn't give away. You could tell he was impatient, that he really expected the meeting to last less than twenty minutes because he was sure you would sign the contract blindly as soon as you saw the profits you'd gain from the distribution and sale of your books. You also noticed, in case it wasn't obvious already, that he preferred to be in control as long as the situation and the people around him allowed it, for his convenience. If he gave in on several occasions, you knew it had been because he was very, very aware of everything that benefited him.

There were two options: Choi Dohyun wore a mask constantly, or Choi Dohyun was a fraud.

“I just wanted to read it one more time… before handing it over. I won't take long.”

“It's okay. No problem.” Dohyun finally walked into the room, the office he had handed you for whenever you decided to go to his publishing house. You didn't even know writers had that option; you didn't know if it was common, but he allowed it. He had also offered you a writing kit that included a typewriter that looked quite expensive, and although you hadn't accepted it, there it was in one of the corners of the office. Dohyun sat across from you, glancing at the few things you had brought from home to make the place a little more pleasant. “I understand that sometimes it's hard to separate yourself from your work. It's a part of you, after all. A kind of vulnerability that not everyone sees.”

That was the kind of thing that kept Dohyun's true nature a mystery. His stoic expression as he blurted out words of comfort. It almost felt like running sandpaper over cement. Not that you needed to figure him out, because at the end of the day he was a boss of sorts and you two were bound by a contract with mutual economic benefits —technically, you were each there for a benefit of your own— but it was something you wanted to be aware of, watchful of, informed of, because you had no way of knowing this guy wouldn't try to take advantage of some situation later, in any possible scenario.

“Yes…”

“Take as much time as you need. The demand for the trilogy is still pretty high, after all.”

You nodded at him in response, wary of his attempt to lighten the mood. If he was the kind of person you thought he was, he surely knew you didn't feel an ounce of trust towards him.

“In just two days you must have quite a bit of work to do with that,” you tried to continue the conversation, interspersing your gaze over the letters on the screen and his dark eyes.

“But it's a very welcome work. Aren't you glad your books were so well received?”

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation, momentarily remembering the proud look on Yuna and your brother's face when they finally got you to see the reactions and opinions of your books on social media. “It's comforting. For your work to be appreciated, recognized… moreover, that it allows you to make a living from it. It's amazing and a very great privilege.”

Dohyun shook his head in assent, interlacing his fingers over his abdomen. From his nonchalant way of taking a seat across from you, slumped over the chair almost as if he was an old friend from college and not practically your boss, and from how his voice reflected that sense of calmness and confidence, you could almost tell he was perfectly selling the facade of the most trustworthy person in the world.

But ultimately it was your feeling and your need to automatically distrust anyone you met because you didn't know at what point they would try to take advantage of you or turn their back on you, and maybe Dohyun wasn't as bad a person as you wanted to paint him in your head. Maybe you would even accept that his presence was a bit comforting and that he actually reminded you of someone you used to know in the past and of whom currently, if you knew he was still alive, it was by sheer luck. That personality, that sense of security he conveyed and that way he had had of expressing himself to you in that meeting that showed a different and more mature kind of wisdom, indeed reminded you of someone else.

Dohyun was very, very much like Jin.

“Can I… ask you something?” you hesitated, alternating your gaze between the screen and his dark eyes, not quite sure if you wanted to go down that path, but aware that you would get something in return if you did, and perhaps the risk would be worth it. “But it's not related to… this.”

As you pointed to your computer and the rest of the office, you couldn't decipher what expression Dohyun sketched. Trying to read him like you did everyone else, it seemed he entertained a specific train of thought in his head and was sparked by your question, but you couldn't probe much further because he agreed, tilting his head to invite you to ask bluntly.

“How do you know Min Yoongi?”

Dohyun then lifted his chin and his lips curved into a sort of small smile that could more accurately be described as a grimace. With his eyes on the window, with the beautiful view of the city and its busy streets, Dohyun took his time to answer and his pleased and almost satisfied look gave you to understand that your question was not a surprise at all. Dohyun could take it simply as healthy curiosity, for after all Yoongi was a celebrity and there weren't many people around the country who couldn't recognize him and you literally saw him face to face.

However, of course, there was something about his attitude that felt different. He wasn't surprised by your question, it was true, but maybe not for the reason you thought.

“He's a friend of my best friend.” Dohyun finally answered, returning your gaze, a glint of amusement highlighting his dark eyes. “I met him a couple of years ago through him, who is also his best friend. Otherwise, I doubt we would've ever met.”

Ah, Dohyun had a best friend who was best friends with Yoongi. That could only mean one thing.

“Ah. Then your best friend is part of the seven kings.”

Dohyun raised his eyebrows, clearly amused by your choice of words and the permanence of that haunting smile and the glint in his eyes should've been warning enough. He had the posture, demeanor and speech of a person who knew he was in control of the situation. Whatever his purpose was in entertaining this conversation, you already knew you were involved in that reason, indirectly.

Dohyun knew something about you that you had no idea about.

“Yes, indeed. It's Kim Seokjin. We met in college.”

As you guessed, of course. That's where the similar traits you could find in his personality came from.

But then Yoongi wasn't directly friends with Dohyun, and they couldn't be that close because of the nonchalant way he referred to him, so the question of why he was here yesterday, precisely when you came, would remain unanswered. It could be a coincidence? Of course, and you could remain in doubt, or you could…

“Wow. You two really are a powerful duo.”

Dohyun let out a laugh, nodding, looking so comfortable with himself, as if you were asking all the questions you should be asking.

“I love my job and I know I'm good at what I do, but Jin is simply on another level.”

You nodded, getting into his game of pretending, with a half smile on your face.

You knew that if Yuna knew what you were doing she would shake her head and tell you that you were crazy; that you should try to be less hard on other people and that's why you had never been able to hit it off with the other co-workers in Sol's cafeteria.

“Yes. I hear he's a great surgeon. He was top of his class, wasn't he?”

“That's right.” Dohyun nodded, determined not to look away from you. “But you're close to them too, aren't you? I saw Taehyung's Instagram stories when he uploaded your books.”

You blinked. Once. And again. He had already figured you out, and now he wanted to reverse the table and get some kind of reaction or information from you that you didn't know what kind of mystery it would solve in his head. The best option was to feign a bit of surprise, which was what you did, as if you didn't expect him to suddenly bring that up.

“Well, we studied together in school, but we were never that close.”

You lifted a shoulder, trying to downplay the subject, as if on cue, and Dohyun nodded slightly processing the information, averting his gaze over the dark carpet on the floor. He seemed to be tying up loose ends in his head and had more questions, the way he squinted his eyes as you gave him his space to think.

You had no idea what he was getting at. You had already brought out to him that he was close friends with Kim Seokjin and that, basically by extension he knew Yoongi. You could almost say it was a bit of an ordinary, almost trivial topic, not overly suspicious. Unless, of course, he knew something else that raised his curiosity and made you look suspicious in his eyes for asking such questions.

It seemed the most certain theory.

“And through him you must have met the others sometime, right?”

And it seemed you were right, too.

You had to deny his assertion, you knew, but it seemed you had taken half a second too long because he beat you to the word, shaking his head in a nod, and then said:

“That explains a lot.”

“Huh?”

Play dumb, play dumb.

Dohyun cracked a big grin, looking almost like a predator in the midst of its hunt, and from that alone you knew he'd already put his puzzle together.

“Well… actually, now that we're being honest, Jin was the one who recommended me to read your books.”

Wow.

Okay.

Jin… told Dohyun about you? About your books?

That doesn't explain anything. In fact, more questions popped up in your head than you could control and you were sure Dohyun could see the question marks moving over your irises.

“He told me that there could be a great opportunity if I published you and he was really right. I don't regret sending you that offer.”

Dohyun leaned back against the backrest and stretched one of his arms over the chair next to him. His posture was a little more relaxed than before and you couldn't help the feeling of anger that ran through you because you had given him just what he wanted, but you couldn't concentrate too much on that because you were too surprised by what he had just blurted out, as if it was nothig.

Of all the things you could've imagined, you would never have considered that this huge and prestigious publishing house had offered you a contract just because one of the CEO's great friends had recommended it to him. I mean, if Jin had never talked about it, would you have had any chance of getting this offer? Of signing this contract? Would you have been recognized on your own merit and not because you were linked to the mouth of a close friend?

None of that made any sense. Why had Jin told Choi Dohyun about you? His best friend being the owner of the most prestigious publishing house in the country, clearly knowing the implications of his actions, why would he do that? Maybe he didn't count on his friend throwing him overboard someday for gossiping and because he has an ego bigger than his own head? Maybe he thought it would be an anonymous job forever? And for what reason? On what grounds? What kind of emotions moved him to make that decision? Maybe it was simply an altruistic desire. Maybe he was moved by the same thing that moved Taehyung, the one who started all this. But was it something premeditated or not? Was it something he had previously discussed with Namjoon? Would the others know about it? Would they have agreed? Would they not have cared?

In the midst of that mental stupor, the very idea of healing seemed stupid to you. The immense confusion and anger that was coursing through your blood had no place for this group of fools to continue to meddle in your life as if they were playing a fucking election game on their computer. Why? Why? Why?

You wanted to get out of a simple doubt with Dohyun, to know what kind of connection he had with Yoongi and that everything that had happened was a coincidence, and you had ended up with a thousand more questions, with a hundred confusions and even more mixed emotions.

And Yoongi… would he have been in his office yesterday for something related to that?

“At first I thought Taehyung had asked him, but Jin is quite careful about such things. He wouldn't hint something like that to me even because his brothers ask him to, unless it was someone he could vouch for. So you knew Jin too, right?”

You didn't try to deny it, but you didn't give him the reason either. Amidst a sea of questions and confusion, incredulous and angry, you just shook your head and crossed your arms.

“I'll bring the first draft tomorrow.”

Dohyun took his time, drumming his fingers on the wood of the chair, sending you a look as if he wanted to get more answers out of you because your attitude raised more doubts than he initially had. Maybe you let go of a wolf's leash or this would be a one-time occurrence, you had no idea. But he said nothing more. Finally he got up, said goodbye and left.

Don't you think you deserve a break?

You should've listened to Yuna.

-

The next day, when you finished editing the draft of your fourth book amid tears, several cups of coffee and an excruciating pain in your wrist, you finally handed it in to the editors with a heavy heart and an hour of sleep in your body. It had officially ceased to be yours. The revelation that Dohyun had actually offered you all of this because Jin had asked him to do so kept going round and round in your head and made you revise and edit that draft more harshly than you would've done before.

Maybe you added a few extra curse words.

“If you don't finish that pasta, I'm going to steal it from you.”

Yuna hadn't even finished her own plate and was already eyeing yours, her brow furrowed and her own fork stabbing the ceramic of the deep dish you'd served your friend in as she crossed the threshold of the front door. You had been stirring the food with your fork for a while, thinking, reflecting, theorizing, trying to figure out what you really wanted; trying to recognize and accept the emotions inside you that were upsetting you.

Your parents had left early and Seojun was back in his college dorms, so you invited Yuna to lunch because you knew she loved the pastries your mom made and because you thought it would do you good to have some company after turning in the draft of your book. But, really, you were more overwhelmed than before. Yuna's presence didn't stop the thoughts in your head from racing, nor did it erase from reality what had happened.

“Y/n?”

You raised your head.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, and tried to focus on eating lunch before rambling on.

“Is it because of the book?”

“No, no. Everything's fine. I was just thinking.”

“Do you think you should've waited a little longer to turn it in?”

You shook your head. “No.”

It wasn't an order from Dohyun or anything like that. You decided to get started on editing the next book because it was a bit desperate to have nothing to do. Before you could focus on the whole operational and logistical process of delivering the books, but now that was taken care of by a separate company and all you had to do was verify that the money was coming into your account and that was it. Not that it was bad, but you were not used to just sitting idly by. So you thought that continuing with the pre-publication editing of the next books might be a good way to pass the time.

You didn't expect, of course, the statement you heard the day before, let alone that it would knock down your motivation like the wind to dry leaves. After that conversation with Dohyun, you decided that the best thing you could do was to turn in that draft and give them as much work as possible as a distraction so that you wouldn't have to go back to that building for at least a couple of weeks. It wasn't a healthy activity, of course, because at the time you were only functioning to keep Yuna from questioning if there was something wrong with you. Well, she probably did, but she preferred not to comment on it, because you hadn't been giving her too many answers to her questions lately.

Having decided that Dohyun was an expert manipulator, you could only worry about the possibility that he might decide to comment something about that conversation to Jin or just stir up a conversation about the possible existence of a friendly bond with him during school time. You didn't know what could trigger that; with everything that had happened up to that point you could no longer be sure of anything or trust anything.

“No. I thought I'd turn it in now so I'd have more time to read the next books. I know that one isn't too bad. I revised it too many times while I was writing it and even after.”

“And it's pretty long, isn't it?”

You nodded, finally tasting another mouthful of pasta. “Seven hundred pages.”

“Holy Christ,” Yuna put a hand to her forehead and sketched a worried expression. Then her excited exclamation echoed throughout the house. “What a thrill! I can't wait to read it!!!!!!”

Yuna returned to work an hour later and you spent the rest of the afternoon between shifts of lying down staring at the ceiling and watching more videos about your books on social media, which you hadn't been able to leave since you saw them with your whole family in the living room. It still seemed surreal to you that you could search the name of your books on the internet and you would indeed get the results you expected. Clearly not all the opinions were praise, but you were willing to take all of that and learn, implement and consider it for the next stories you were willing to tell. For now, you were going to focus on keeping the editors busy enough that they wouldn't have to ask about it or demand your presence for any reason. This trilogy really was quite a lengthy saga, so when they finallt finish editing the fourth book, you'd have the fifth waiting, and so on. At least until you had another amazing idea for a new story.

Now, on the slightly more disturbing topics, you still had more loose ends to tie up than you had initially thought. As you still had those particles of anger running through your body and you were still convinced that there was still no room for healing and overcoming, you could only think about what Yoongi's presence in Dohyun's office was about and if it had to do with what Jin had done.

That was the first line of thought. The second one sounded more like Yuna with her serious voice trying to talk some sense into you and tell you that you were seeing into it too much, that surely it was all just a coincidence and that Yoongi's presence was just some kind of crossfire.

But… yet… how many more times did something like this have to happen before you stopped chalking it up to coincidence? How many more times would you say it was a coincidence until everything started to connect to a purpose? Did they even have a purpose? Did they have a reason for all this, for all this unnecessary drama? And was their reason worth it to compensate for the instability you were going through? Having pent up emotions, confusion, lots of doubts and zero answers was about to drive you crazy.

However, maybe seeing things from another approach would allow you to understand.

Because, honestly, you saw it as too complicated to be able to leave them behind in this way, when it seemed that, on purpose or not, you would keep finding them in your soup. Adopting a slightly more objective approach, even though your emotions were always running high when it came to them, could give you the resolution you were looking for and the answer to the questions you were asking yourself. And there would be nothing more than that, because it would be impossible to restore the friendship you once had. Perhaps the truth would be painful, but you would accept it as it was and move on. Now, as old as you were, it would not be as hard as it was ten years ago when in the midst of confusion and desolation you could only cry.

Now, you had already gone through the mourning and made peace with the distance, the absence and the betrayal.

Maybe, if you tried a little harder, you could bring real closure —and soon, hopefully— by finding the answers on your own.

-

Kim Namjoon used to believe that he was good at dealing with any kind of problem. In his head, which he was spinning around like a huge sphere and he was a hamster, Namjoon was sure that he could fix any situation and solve any misunderstanding, any fight or at least come to an agreement that would make everyone feel comfortable enough to move forward.

In his head, Namjoon was a three thousand dollars conflict-solver. Seeking solutions from reason and objectivity was basically how he kept his company afloat, that company he had inherited from his parents and had turned into the economic juggernaut it was today. All that success was summed up in the capacity for resolution that Namjoon had in his super head and, of course, his strategic capacity that allowed him to read his opponents and know exactly what they wanted, how they wanted it and when they wanted it.

However…

The whole table was still silent.

And Namjoon could only look at the faces of each of his friends, his best friends, practically his brothers, while they shied away from his gaze or directly ignored him, while he clasped his hands on the edge of the chair and tried to keep his composure because he no longer knew what to do.

Kim Namjoon, the three-thousandth troubleshooter, had a factory defect and could not fix the one thing he had always been able to fix with ease.

When Hoseok had walked into his office two nights ago with that stern and serious expression, Namjoon knew that there would be more problems to solve. But if he had to be honest, even before that moment he knew it wasn't working out well. Maybe it was because of the delicacy of the subject or the crudeness of his friends to address it, but Namjoon was losing the important ingredient of patience and that was something that hadn't happened to him before.

But then again, how could they all be so insensitive?

“Doesn't anyone have anything to say?”

Hoseok had been the only one to be spared from this discussion, though his presence was required at the table and tension radiated from his body in equal amounts. The others were directly attacked by the three thousandth (broken) problem-solver and despite Namjoon giving them a space to try to explain the situation, the table was still silent and with each passing second the pressure cooker containing Namjoon's anger was beeping louder and louder.

“I don't think there's much to say.”

It was Jin who finally broke the silence and Namjoon let out some air.

“Ah, thank you, Jin. Why do you think so?”

With his arms crossed, the older sent him an incredulous look.

“We've had this conversation three times already, Namjoon. Why do you think it's necessary for us to keep repeating ourselves?”

Hoseok had told Namjoon that he was concerned about the coexistence in the pent-house and that perhaps the elephant in the room was not being addressed in the right way; that more and more misunderstandings were being created between everyone and that it was making for an untrustworthy environment for the youngers. Namjoon agreed halfway through; if he had to be honest, none of it would've gotten to that point if none of them had been so irresponsible and daring to do all that they had done. And Jin had the least right to dismiss the issue as he had.

“Because you all don't seem to have listened to me at all, especially you.”

Jin snorted and turned his head away. Jungkook beside him barely winced at the hostile exchange.

“And what did I do?”

“What did you do? Jin, how can you be so inconsiderate?”

“I only rushed an exchange that was eventually going to happen, what the fuck is wrong with that?”

Namjoon tried not to look so surprised by the fact that the conversation he had had with him two nights ago and Yoongi had basically gone in one ear and out the other. Namjoon had no idea if it was an occupational hazard or a personality trait, but Jin was having a kind of stubbornness that bordered too much on his pride and desire to be right.

And right now it wasn't about who was right or wrong. It was about the fact that they had all made a promise and now they were breaking it as if it was worthless. Worse, as if the only ones affected by it were them and not a third party.

“Didn't you stop to think how she would feel if she found out that was how things went down?”

Jin rolled his eyes, but didn't answer him.

“Why do you all do all these things without believing that they will have consequences beyond your own feelings? That's all I'm asking you to consider!”

Taehyung and Jungkook at least had the decency to actually look embarrassed, avoiding Namjoon's gaze. Jimin was still convinced that he had done nothing extremely wrong and Yoongi simply demonstrated his sorrow through indifference. Namjoon knew that Yoongi was just as frustrated as he was with the way things were going, because they were the only ones trying to fix the messes the others had been thoughtlessly causing. And Jin… well, it was obvious that he didn't see any big implications beyond having to be scolded by Namjoon.

“Guys…” Hoseok started, sitting to Namjoon's right with a tired and defeated expression. If Namjoon and Yoongi were looking out for the integrity of the third party concerned, Hoseok was the one who was most concerned about the bonds that were breaking between them and that was why he had gone to Namjoon to have a group meeting again and set the boundaries once and for all. “You guys know that Namjoon is not just talking for the sake of talking. Jin, you don't need to get defensive. I understand that you tried to make the connection in good faith, but you have to understand that it was a very high risk. And while Dohyun is your friend, you know he's not very trustworthy.”

Jin grunted then, despite the kind tone Hoseok used to address him, and the others at the table only sent him a surprised look.

“Sure, now it's all my own damn fault. Not only do I have to deal with the stress of work, now I have to come to my supposed time off to deal with this too?”

“Hyung,” Yoongi called after him and frowned at the rude tone the older had used. “No one is saying it's your fault. We all have a part in this.”

“I don't care, Yoongi. Whatever's going on right now you know who's really to blame. And there's nothing you can do about it anymore.”

“Jin,” Namjoon called back and the aforementioned turned to look at him with daggers in his eyes. “You made the promise too.”

“Yes, one I never agreed to and you know it.”

Hoseok sighed and ran his hands over his face. “This is not the time to apportion blame, okay? I only wanted this space because I want us to fix this lack of communication and all this hostility that is affecting our living together.”

Namjoon turned to look at the table, finding the younger ones sealed in silence. None of them raised their heads and they showed signs of nervousness and anxiety, even if they tried to hide it under the tablecloth on the table.

There were too many things Namjoon wanted to control; there were too many things he wanted to solve; there were a number of other things that drove him mad and others that made him feel hopeless. Understanding all these emotions, his own or others', was wearing him down and perhaps that was why he was increasingly losing an ounce of patience. However, no matter how hard it was for him, Namjoon had to be sure that his priority was right in front of him. He had chosen to do so a couple of years ago and he could no longer turn back time.

“Hey, I'm sorry, okay?” Namjoon started once again and although Hoseok tried to shush him to calm down, he continued, “I know how I've acted during these days since everything started and I have not been very open to dialogue. For me it was… it was like crossing a forbidden boundary and I couldn't understand how you guys could jump over it without a second thought. It made my hair stand on end and I didn't… I didn't… I didn't know how to contain those emotions, I didn't know how to control them and clearly I didn't know how to express them. And the truth is that it worries me. I understand that you don't, because otherwise you wouldn't have done any of that, but I would like you to try to do that because this is not a unilateral action that will only affect you and will only be in your memories. You are affecting her too, and very much so. We were not good, not even friendly or cordial, so I need you to understand that all these things she will not see them as you think. Jungkook, you experienced it first hand. She hates us.”

Jungkook jerked on the chair and Taehyung was the one who reached over the table to take his intertwined hands. Jin sighed, finally letting the anger dissipate and Yoongi mimicked him, a little calmer as he watched his elder relax. Hoseok shook his head in assent, noticing the tension at the table dissipate a bit and how the young men held each other.

“And rightly so, because we made an inexcusable decision. And not only that, but she will now believe that it was a simple Tuesday for us and it's not. We made the promise for a reason and anything related we were supposed to consult first as a group. Sure, life happens and we get busy with a lot of things and have too much on our minds, but this was all inexcusable and we owe her more than forgiveness. We probably owe her our lives.”

“Hyung, I'm sorry…”

Jungkook was the most regretful. Since that harsh encounter, for which he dared to risk his presence in public and for which he believed it would be worth a try, Jungkook had never regretted something so much since the day of the promise. He still remembered the hatred your voice exuded and shivers ran down his spine. He had been unconscious, that was true, and he didn't know what he had let consume his body to have made that decision or to have simply acted without thinking. The possibility of seeing you again simply…blinded him. But that was never an excuse.

And Namjoon knew that. It was Jungkook who acted worse than everyone else, but he also couldn't deny to himself that had he found himself in the same predicament, with the same opportunity, he wouldn't have done the same. Maybe that's why he was so demanding of others, because that's how he reminded himself that he had no right to even think about it, much less act on their emotions, when they had taken away your choice as if they had any say in it.

“We can't erase what has already happened and what you have already done. All I ask is that you don't make it worse.” Namjoon implored, closing his eyes in silent prayer. “At this point there is no way to fix anything, and if every day we do things like this we are only inflicting pain on someone who doesn't deserve it. So please, for the love of God, leave her alone.”

The whole table was still silent, but this time Namjoon could clearly see everyone's face and notice their emotions right away, as he had always been able to do. He still didn't understand what had moved them to do all that; to Taehyung, to Jungkook, to Jin, to Jimin, despite everything they had discussed before, and he didn't understand how he hadn't been able to foresee their intentions from the beginning. But he could no longer focus on what had happened, but on what was happening and what he could still fix.

For that which had already been broken for years, Namjoon doubted too much that any of it could ever be fixed, no matter how hard he tried. And boy, would he have wanted to try.

“I'm sorry,” Jin mumbled, and it almost seemed like he had ripped the words from the back of his throat, but Namjoon took it with all his being and considered it the first victory on this new path.

When he finally dispatched everyone, Jimin remained seated to his left.

“Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

The blond looked disgruntled, and though it was clear that the tension was gone from his shoulders, in his gaze was that longing that Namjoon hadn't seen in years and certainly didn't allow in himself for all that he had previously exposed.

“Do you really think it's impossible to fix it?”

Namjoon hated knowing that the gleam in Jimin's eye had no future. At least not the one he wanted to believe. Namjoon, like everyone else, had spent sleepless nights thinking, remembering, reflecting and considering that they were never brave enough nor necessarily tough enough to earn that friendship once again. It had all gone to waste and it had been because of them.

“Yeah, I don't think that's possible.”

Jimin passed his saliva harshly, as if his mouth was dry, but he had to control and keep his emotions in check. Namjoon knew his every emotion and mainly knew how sensitive this whole issue was for Jimin, who from the beginning never agreed with him on anything and never hesitated to let him know. In fact, it took a couple of years before Namjoon could finally have this close relationship with Jimin again, until the blond decided to forgive him.

“It's silly to hope at this point, right?”

Namjoon also knew that Jimin struggled a lot to stop pointing blames, as Jin still did. He knew that, had Jimin had the opportunity in his hands several years in the past, he would have taken it and perhaps left them behind if he could. It was an extremely complex and long process to get the blond to trust Namjoon and those on his side again, which was one of the reasons why Hoseok was so insistent on talking and communicating and keeping everyone on good terms. It had cost them so much to re-form their trust that he couldn't allow it to crack once again.

Jimin nodded at his words when they were met with silence, for there was nothing Namjoon could say to comfort him. It was simply a heartbreaking situation.

“Tae and I will be with Jungkook.” Jimin assured Namjoon as he stood up. “Thank you… for trying.”

Namjoon only nodded, pressing his lips together in an attempt at a smile. Things would not automatically go back to the way they were before, as Namjoon's sternness in dealing with this issue on previous occasions was what initially caused this whole fiasco of miscommunication and hostility. He was heartily grateful that likewise Jimin took him into consideration, because he didn't know if he would be able to sleep knowing that everyone in that pent-house hated him. He didn't know if being the reason for the constant discord would allow him to have a respite of peace of mind at some point, when he was simply trying to do what he thought was best for everyone and what suited them on a sentimental level.

Kim Namjoon used to believe that he was good at dealing with any kind of problem. In his head, over which he circled as if it was a huge sphere and he was a hamster, Namjoon was sure that he could fix any situation and provide a solution to any misunderstanding, any fight or at least come to an agreement that would allow everyone to feel comfortable enough to move forward.

However, at that moment, the past tense wording was the most accurate.

Namjoon used to believe.

Jimin stopped halfway up the stairs, transfixed, and Namjoon watched him curiously. Then, the blond half-turned on his heels and Namjoon got front row view of Jimin's pale face and his exaggeratedly expanded eyes as he looked at his phone.

“Hyung…”

Namjoon came striding over, intrigued as well as concerned by the expression on the blond's face.

Jimin had his Instagram open, specifically his direct messages. There was the message there that had made Jimin stop dead in his tracks and all blood dropped to his feet, but Namjoon didn't understand what the reason for his surprise was until he saw the sender, and then his eyebrows disappeared into his hair.

y/n Let's meet

--

omg🙊🙊

tag: @rinkud@futuristicenemychaos@pastelpeachess@parapiop7@11thenightwemet11 @yoongznme @queenbloody @lynnettys-world @darlingz99 @dreamerwasfound @chaotickyrith @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthigs @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @kariningss @juju-227592 @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @jincapableoflove @notrustfratedjin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison @ismelllikechlorine247 @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife @thatgirliehan @yuuuumii @welcometomyworld13 @sugarbaby69x @whoa-jo @cerulean1riz @kawennote09 @angelfuzzy2 @themoonsblueside @damn-u-min-yoongi @drenix004 @dhanyasri @borahaetelevision

[universchae]

Model Behavior

― DANIELA X READER

no use of y/n, gender neutral reader, flirting, fashion designer au

You hadn’t even finished pinning the final seam before she turned around and said it:

“You’re lucky I like talented people. Otherwise I’d be flirting with you for free.”

You looked up from your knees, a pin still clenched between your lips.

Daniela—THE Daniela, runway veteran and fashion darling of every brand that ever mattered—was standing in the middle of your studio in your custom silk set like she’d been born in it. One hand on her hip. One eyebrow raised.

She was… dangerously pretty.

You blinked. “Aren’t you already flirting with me for free?”

She grinned. “Oh good, you’re funny and observant.”

---

The truth was, you were not ready for this gig.

Your small line had barely gotten attention until a last-minute cancellation put you on the roster for Fashion Dream Seoul. And now… your debut was being modeled by Daniela Avanzini, whose face had been on magazine covers since you were in high school.

She should’ve been intimidating.

But she wasn’t.

She was… warm. Teasing. Way too relaxed for someone whose presence had almost broken your website in 24 hours.

And she watched you—really watched you—as you worked.

---

“You always get this serious when you sew?” she asked one day, lounging on your fitting couch like it was a throne. “All focused and furrow-browed?”

You rolled your eyes. “Some of us need to concentrate.”

Daniela tilted her head. “And some of us need to know if you’re seeing anyone.”

You nearly dropped the entire garment bag.

“Excuse me?!”

“What?” she said, totally innocent. “I like to plan ahead.”

---

The day of the show arrived, and your nerves were pure static.

Backstage was chaos—steamers hissing, models rushing, music blaring.

But Daniela found you in the middle of it all, fully dressed in the collection’s final look: a structured ivory gown with a bold asymmetrical sleeve and a silver chain corset—your favorite piece.

“You made this with your hands,” she said, soft but impressed. “That’s kind of hot.”

You stared. “Daniela.”

“What? I’m appreciating the artistry.” Her eyes dropped to your lips. “And maybe the artist.”

---

You didn’t answer.

Instead, you stepped forward and gently adjusted a strap on her shoulder. Your fingers lingered longer than necessary.

She smirked. “You do like me.”

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “I really shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m your designer.”

Daniela leaned closer.

“You’re my favorite designer.”

And then she was gone—swept onto the runway, lights in her hair, the whole crowd silent as she walked like the universe belonged to her.

In that moment, wearing your dress, she looked directly at you.

And winked.

---

Later That Night

The show was over. Your name was trending. Everything smelled like champagne and panic and new beginnings.

Daniela found you on the rooftop of the afterparty, sipping soda alone.

“Hey,” she said, tugging her coat tighter around her shoulders. “Great show. You didn’t cry.”

“I cried inside.”

She smiled. “You know… this is usually where I ask if you want to come back to my place.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Usually?”

“Yeah. But you’re different.”

Your heart skipped. “How so?”

“You make things that last. So I want to take my time with you.”

A pause.

You stepped closer.

“So this is… more than a fling to you?”

Daniela nodded, suddenly sincere. “It could be something real. If you want.”

You looked at her—cheeks pink from the wind, smile honest for once.

And said, “Then I’m yours. Just not for free.”

She laughed. “Fair. I’ll earn it.”

[couch-potato28]

Imagine being a Blue Lock manager! ⚽️

VERSION IX.

(a/n: RAAAH 🔥 woke up to a congratulatory message for 1000 likes, you guys are amazing!! sending lots of love, I’m extremely grateful and thank you for the support ❤️)

Warning-none

wc: 1k

ALSO: @ttheggrimrreaper ❣️ (if you wanna join the taglist lemme know)

——————

FROM THE PROLOGUE:

“Congratulations L/N Y/N! Based on your results, you've earned your place in Blue Lock as the manager of player number…

…5, Yukimiya Kenyu.”

As soon as his name was announced, a group of girls squealed from excitement, immediately turning to you with curiosity perhaps jealousy in their eyes.

“Lucky!”

“Oh my gosh, if I knew he was here I would have trained harder!”

“Can you get me a signature, please?”

You were bombed with questions left and right, the room shrinking to the size of a football with barely enough space to breathe. Before you could suffocate, Ego’s voice harshly reminded everyone to back off, letting you make your way to Anri.

“I almost died for you Yukimiya”

Imagine being the 1v1 emperor, Yukimiya Kenyu’s manager.

——————

Yukimiya Kenyu whose tall frame, paired with glasses framing his face, made him easily recognizable among the others. You caught him in a rather intense 1 on 1 match—quickly recalling what you read from his profile sheet—convinced that he’s gonna win the duel. Patiently waiting for the match to finish, you then approached him with a smile, handing him his water bottle before introducing yourself to the boy. As expected, he returned the polite smile, shaking your hand while asking some questions. Talking with him made you realize, no wonder everyone was all over him, because damn was he handsome.

——————

•Yukimiya, who you form a strictly professional relationship with, sometimes curious about what he thinks of you. He’s just so polite to the point it’s almost scary, and not once has he offended you in any way. Super nice, but you can tell there’s this certain wall between the two of you.

•He’s easy to deal with, never complaining, always following instructions to the core and he’s really capable on his own as well. You notice how he likes to do things alone most of the time—dealing with exhaustion, injuries, and personal problems without discussing them with you.

•Very mature and loves to handle his own business, but after a certain incident where you prove yourself to be more than just an assigned manager, he lets you in his inner circle. No more distance between you and him—just his pure, unfiltered self.

•FINALLY, someone who shows up on time for events, matches etc. without needing a thousand reminders. Disciplined during practice and training, all while carefully listening to your guidance.

•Yukimiya, who will do some extra training, if he feels like it but you will have to practically force him to rest, otherwise he’s gonna overwork. Likes to help you with paperwork too, turning it into a fun bonding time.

•Always notices if you’re having a bad day and will gently ask how you are, or instruct you to go back to bed, saying he can manage himself for a day. Perfect at listening to you vent, and gives the best solutions for any problem.

•Yukimiya doesn’t tease you a lot since he’s such a gentleman, instead he will secretly trash talk and gossip to you. Also, he’s always silently judging someone with the nastiest side eyes known to mankind. (second to Chigiri) LOVES to roll his eyes as well.

•He doesn’t mention his job as a model, but due to his teammates’ teasing, he tells you some snippets of how they scouted him etc. At the same time you tell him about the little incident during the announcements, making him laugh and a glint of pride shines in his eyes.

——————

AFTER THE U20 MATCH…

•Yukimiya becomes more open to others, cooperating during matches and discussions. He also pays more attention to you during analysis sessions and pre-match talks, asking even more questions than before.

•You also have to change some things in his diet that could make a slight improvement in his vision, as well as ensuring he goes for monthly checkups, and searches for treatments on the Internet.

•He appreciates your support silently. Not really the emotional type, but when you’re sitting on a bench waiting for him to finish—it means a lot. Remembers your habits, and never fails to look out for you.

•Yukimiya is EXTREMELY photogenic since he’s a model. Super polite with interviewers and always gives clear answers. Really sweet to his fans as well, they swoon every time they see him. To your surprise, they also compliment how cute his manager is, some people even making ship edits about the two of you.

•Definition of unbothered in everyday life. Did he forget his own water bottle? Karasu’s will do. Oops, was this seat supposed to be Isagi’s? Guess he’ll have to sit somewhere else. You are scolding him? “Yes, yes manager-san.” He definitely DID NOT listen and was instead, counting how many eyelashes you have.

•You can’t read his emotions off of his face. He has this gentleman image that never seems to leave even if he is angry. Not towards you tho, it’s for his teammates—and the extremely pushy and rude paparazzi. It’s chilling how he smiles when he’s happy AND when he’s mad. You can hardly tell the difference.

•Yukimiya, who will drop random pick up lines out of nowhere without even realizing it—surprised every time when you’re flustered, thinking it’s the hot weather. (could be winter doesn’t matter)

•He will also unconsciously (or not) do the most boyfriend coded things ever like—looking over your shoulder with his face dangerously close to yours, or moving you by the waist with a “can you move a bit to the left” while his hands are on your sides.

•Big anime fan, but refuses to talk about it unless you bring it up first. After that he turns into a total fanboy, telling you some episodes by heart and he’s just so nerdy, it makes you smile.

•Nobody suspects him, but he has some UNHINGED photos of the boys on his phone. Otoya with a double chin? Check. Nagi drooling on his own pillow? Check. Bachira FULLY naked? Check, and don’t ask him how he got it.

•Yukimiya is the ideal player to get with his attentive nature, all while being perfectly media trained. Thanks to his skills, you don’t have to suffer that much, making your life stressful-free. That is until his very first scandal pops up and the topic is none other than—you and him being involved in a RELATIONSHIP?

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Sleep

a/n did this need to be this long? No. But is it impossible to not make everything slightly sexual with these eepy boys? Yes. Someone needs to take my phone away. I also have exhaustion fever so this is actually a fever dream. Edited version.

summary: Sleep token with a model reader (preferably fem, but you can totally make it gn) like she's not a famous model, but like she's good at what she does and so eepy boys are like, "ooh they make good sht what if we hire her for an album cover or something"

warning: slightly sexual….?

sleep token boys x reader

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“You’re looking at her like she’s the last supper," ii snorted after a while of watching Vessel practically drool over you. The post-show gatherings were rare. Well, the ones where the team could bring plus ones were. Boys usually stuck around for a quick photo, their way of showing how much they appreciated everyone’s work before they disappeared into the privacy of the back rooms. But not today. And for the very first time, it felt worth it.

“She might be," iii snickered, his eyes equally as pleased with the sight in front of him. “Let me clean your drool”, iv brings a napkin towards Vessel’s lips, one that the lead singer is quick to push away. “She would fit the next album," it’s barely a whispers, but they all fix their gaze on you now.

“I’ve seen her around," iii mutters, trying to think where it was, but the sea of people after a while just goes mushy. “Yeah, because you’ve been liking her pictures," iv says, crossing his arms over his chest. “As if that’s not weird. How the fuck would you know that?”, but the look iii shoots at his bandmate is met with a middle finger. "Vess, we already have the shoot planned for Friday”, ii is quick to interfere. He is always the most put-together one, making sure the plan stays where it should, once the ground rules are placed. "Yeah, but I don’t like what we got,"  Vess waves his hand around, “We need her," and here it is, no longer a maybe but the tone of a man who had set his mind. 

“She could be sleep”, it’s almost a plea as Vess looks among the guys. “Look at her."  Crocking his head to the side, Vess once again lets himself shamelessly admire you. “The hair, the skin, and the eyes, look at her eyes." As if feeling all four sets of eyes burning into your skin, you finally glance their way. And it’s as if, with your gaze alone, you had set off the panic. “Don’t look, don’t look,"  Vess hisses, head down, with iii grasping for his beer that nearly slipped through his fingers. “How old are we, three?”, iv hisses, placing his bottle down, before stepping forward. "Ivy,"  Vess catches his arm, but iv only gives him a serious look before adding, “This is creepy; we need to go talk to her, not gawk like a pack of creeps”. 

You watch him approach you. The confidence oozing off him feels infectious. As if the whole room is pulsing to the beat of him. "Hey," he says as he slides down the booth to get closer to you. "Hi," you greet him, smiling, as you shoot him a little wave. “Never seen you before," his voice is smooth, steady, and perky enough to make you guess that he’s smirking beneath the mask. “Is that why you were staring?”, you ask, watching his eyes. He chuckles lightly before lifting his hands up, “Caught red-handed." And you can’t help but chuckle alongside him. 

“I don’t know if you know...", iv starts after a moment. "Who you are?", you finish for him, and he visibly halts. Because that had been exactly what he was going to ask. “I do; I’m friends with Sam,"  you point to the man in question, who’s posing for a picture with a mask as well. 

“Lucky son of a bitch," iv mutters, watching him for a moment before pulling his gaze back to you. A slight silence falls. “Join us for a drink,"  he says, nodding towards the table he came from. You gaze there, earning a salute from ii. iii just lifts his bottle up. It’s Vess, whose eyes you can’t see, but you know that they are set on you. “Is this a kidnapping?”, you look up at iv. “Most definitely,"  he nods, and you’re quick to follow his actions. “Alright then.”

It feels as if an unexpectedly found puzzle piece that fit to Vess as he watches you in the glass little pool. The mesh material of your dress is soaked and floating all around you. And the rain installation slowly turning from clear to pitch black. Drowning you out in darkness. “That’s it,"  he hears the director shout, “Look up." But Vessel doesn’t even look at the actual footage the camera is getting; his gaze is glued on you. An actual vision in front of him. 

“She’s fucking good; you've got to give her that,"  ii mumbles as he too watches the shoot. All of them are here. They were never here for shit like this, but today they were almost first. “I need a picture with her; can we get her in some promo shit too?”, iii once again pushes the narrative he had been trying to shove down everyone’s throats the moment you agreed. “She might not want to,"  Vess trails off. “Have you asked?”, iii nudges him, like a kid who’s not getting the exact candy he was looking for. 

“Can you get horny from watching someone…", iii changes his tone, but iv is quick to clasp a hand over his mouth. “If you make her feel weird, I will de-ball you myself,"  he hisses, giving him a little shove. The crew helps you step out before someone is quick to drape a dry towel over your shoulders. “Here to investigate your investment?”, you shoot them a smile, surprised to see them here. Mostly because everyone reassured you that they would not be here. 

“I like to follow the process,"  Vessel blurts out. “Hope it’s up to your liking,"  you mutter right as he brushes the strand of hair away from your face. “More than exceeded my expectations." His words throw you off center for a heartbeat before a smile spreads across your face. “Mind taking more pictures?”, iv nods your way. Your shoulders sag lightly as you glance at the screen, “You don’t like these?” “Oh shit, not like that, I mean with us,"  he quickly adds. You look at them. Blinking slowly. “But you... you don’t take pictures like that,"  you frown slightly. You’ve read through the papers their management sent out this morning. There was the underlined part that said no content regarding bad members would be taken. “Just feel like changing shit up,"  Vess glances at the setup. “This won’t do, but I have an idea.”

What follows after that is a slight madman frenzy. You watch Vess explain exactly what he wants from the production team. Going as far as scribbling the placement of objects on paper. “Is he always like this?”, you ask after a moment. “Passionate?”, ii ask, and you’re quick to nod. “When inspiration strikes, yes," iii nods along. “He pretty much fell out of a second-floor bunk in the middle of the night once because a lyric came up in his head and he had nowhere to write it down."  A chuckle slips from ii’s lips, and you can’t help but glance at him. Having him be so talkative feels like a gift in a way. “That’s beautiful,"  you muse, “loving something so much." The boys simply hum in response before the makeup and clothes department ushers them in. 

“Vess will direct it from now; follow his lead; and don’t overthink it,"  the lady walking you back on stage, brushes your hand in reassurance. The place is a lot dimmer now. Yet the lights reflect off the water just as beautifully. There’s a drum set in the middle of the set, with extra support beams intact too. You frown slightly as you hand the tower off to your makeup artist. “Do you mind lying down?”, Vessel asks. “In the water?”, you ask, but Vess is quick to shake his head. “On the drums." You swallow, glancing at ii, who’s already standing by his seat. "Sure," you breathe out, stepping onto the rearranged platforms. His eyes follow your every move, and he’s quick to gesture to his chair, no doubt as a step stool for you to get on. 

“Let me help you," ii says, taking hold of your hands before steadying your steps. “Won’t I break it?", you ask, looking at the drums. “It’s a fake; even if it breaks, it doesn’t matter."  The smoothness of II's voice sends shivers down your spine as you step onto the drums before slowly lowering yourself down. ii’s hands stay nearby, you can feel their warmth but not their touch. Your eyes lock right as you sprawl out. Letting the top of your body bend over the set. 

"Fuck."  It’s so quiet and low that you’re sure you’ve imagined it. Someone warns you about the water before your body and the drums are drenched. “I’ll only hit the plates; don’t get spooked out," ii warns you, yet you don’t have a chance to answer. The drizzle picks up, you gaze up, meeting his eyes, and the sound around you erupts, alongside the flashes of the camera. It goes like that for a couple of minutes. It feels like forever and then a blink of your imagination. And then you’re being pulled back up. “Good?”, ii mutters. You nod, and he mimics your movement. “Good. It will be hard not to see you every time I look at my drums now,"  he admits before stepping aside, the prep team swarming all around you. Making your head dizzy. 

Someone’s saying something about how sets with guitars will be less challenging, and you catch the sight of iii stepping on with a mask you hadn’t yet seen. “Scary?”, he chuckles. "No,"  you say, shaking your head, feeling slightly breathless. “It’s... mesmerizing." He lets out a low laugh. “That’s a first." And within a heartbeat, you’re sitting in the water with iii towering over you. Your hands are snaking up his legs and lower stomach as you arch your head up to watch his face. There’s no way to read his emotions. However, the vein in his neck says enough. You’re aware of the flashes, but it’s as if that part of reality is not there. iii’s body disappears after a while, and then he’s right there, inches from your face, leaning forward to look right at you. 

iv strolls in almost immediately after. Sharing a look with iii as they pat each other on the shoulder. And then the man built on confidence is right in front of you. “Care for a cuddle?”, he muses, sitting down in the water and spreading his legs apart. You just stare at him. Feeling your head spin. “Do I need to sit you down?”, he shoots you a daring look, and you instantly sink to your knees. “You minx,"  he says, shaking his head, “Come on, lean against my chest." You follow his lead, sliding between his legs and letting your back rest against his chest. He pulls his guitar in front of you two. Your fingers slip onto his thighs, then slowly upon his arms and towards his guitar. Before you look up, to find his blue orbs watching you with unmatched insanity. “Get why you left II and III in shambles now,"  he says, ever so slightly brushing his masked lips against your ear. 

You feel in a trance by the time you see Vessel standing behind his keyboard stand. “Do you mind?”, you’re not sure what exactly he’s referring to, but you shook your head. And then you instantly regret not asking because his hands are around your waist as he lifts you onto the keyboard. You let out a slight shriek, and his face instantly turns to you. “It’s okay, it’s okay; just didn’t expect that,"  you’re quick to reassure him. “Just do what feels natural,"  Vess mutters before turning to step in front of the keyboard. You pull one of your legs up, bending it beneath you, and turn slightly so you can face him better. His fingers move over the keys, head down. You watch him for a moment before slowly reaching out. Fingers brushing the exposed part of his face before ever so slightly inching beneath the mask as you turn his face towards you. Trying to figure out why a man of such talent and power wasn’t all that quick to take control. 

“How much freaky is too freaky?”, you ask him. Vess crocks his head to the side before asking, “Have you seen us on stage?” You smirk, bring your other leg over the keyboard, spreading your legs enough to make room for Vessel to stand in between. “Own it then,"  you say, reaching for his hands, moving one to your hip and placing the other in the middle of your chest. “The question here is, what keys are you playing, Vess?” You stare right at him before leaning back. He’s quick to steady you. Leaving his hands where you had placed them before lifting the one resting on your chest up as if he’s pulling your soul out of your body, right as you arch your back. “Fucking vision, fucking sleep,"  Vess grunts under his breath, drinking in the sight of you. 

The photograph shouts cut, and you let yourself breathe for a moment before holding onto Vessel’s forearms as you pull yourself up. “You are something else,"  he grunts, helping you down, and you can tell that his hands linger. “They do say that I’m good at what I do."  You wink at him. “Wrapping four grown men around your finger, you mean?”, he smirks at you before nodding to the side. You glance up only to find three sets of eyes looking at you as if you had been a vision sent by god, or maybe the devil himself. 

[lovly-q]

FASHIONABLY FUCKED UP ; satoru gojo .

synopsis ⁀ . ❛ you’re a model, and it’s ten minutes before the runway show. most people wouldn’t think that’s enough time to fuck—satoru’s not most people ❜

content⁀ . +18. 1.4k word count. finger fucking. reader doesn’t release (i knowww). since this is a model!reader au, it also means this is in a modern!au.

authors note⁀ . thought of this while listening to that one the weekend song. god someone help me

the bass from the catwalk vibrates so hard through the walls of your dressing room, that you could practically feel in your chest. it wasn’t until the cue song—the one that plays less than 15 minutes before your entrance—that the nerves finally hit. by now, slowly but surely your assistants have slipped out, leaving you alone for these last moments. you’d spent the past hour perfecting your makeup, and now, it was flawless. your outfit hugged your body like a second skin, the fabric tracing every curve of your hips, the neckline cut down just low enough enough to tease the crowd.

ten minutes to curtain.

you take a deep breath, and study yourself in the mirror of your vanity. you turn left, then right—and only then, you notice the figure in the doorway.

startled, you swift around in your chair. “toru—?”

and there he was. leaning against the doorframe as if he owned the damn building. he had his signature sunglasses perched up top of his white hair, shirt half-unbuttoned, black slacks all sleek and ironed.

“what are you doing here?” you hiss. “you can’t be in here—”

“oh please,” he rolls his eyes. “no one saw me.” with his next words, his voice shifts into something low. “plus—who cares? i missed you.”

you stand up from your chair, and lean against the corner of your vanity. crossing your arms, you frown.

“satoru,” you warn, but it’s a useless attempt. he’s already moving across the room—unhurried, almost described as lazy. he does this as if he has all the time in the world. which he didn’t. hell, you didn’t.

“look at my sweet girl. you look gorgeous,” he murmurs, stopping in front of you. his fingers skim the curve of your waist, then they dip even lower. they trace along the plush of your thighs. “really good. y’know i can’t believe they don’t let you take these outfits home. i’d love for you to sit and give me a personal show.”

you narrow your eyes. “i have ten minutes.”

“eight, actually,” he grins, glancing at the clock on the wall above you. “but i’d say that’s plenty of time, yeah?”

“satoru—“

he’s quick to tuck his hand between your thighs. the fabric of your panties is so paper thin that he can easily feel the dampness of your heat.

“fuck,” you groan. your breath catches somewhere in your throat, every muscle tensing.

“huh, you’re already wet,” he hums, voice laced with nothing but amusement. “how rude of you to not to tell me.”

you try to step back, forgetting there was nowhere to go. your actions only make the vanity press closer against your spine. satoru presses between your legs, his free hand firm on your thigh to hold you still.

“don’t start something you can’t finish,” you warn—or atleast try to. it doesn’t help that your voice shakes.

“hm, me?” he comes close to your ear, as he whispers, “i won’t be the one begging to finish.”

abruptly, he tugs your panties aside.

you gasp. the cold air hits you first. then his fingers—warm and fucking agonizingly slow—slip through your folds. he circles your clit once, twice, and you nearly buckle.

“this is cruel,” you manage to get out, voice barely above a whisper.

he gives you a look over before leaning in once more, lips brushing against you ear. “cruel would be making you walk out there dripping and not letting you come.”

“are you not trying to do that already—” your breath hitches as he presses two fingers inside.

he moves slowly, too slowly, curling them just enough to make you whimper. your nails dig into his forearm, teeth clenched as he starts to finally get a rhythm. it’s disappointing, really. too gentle. just shy of what you really needed.

fuck, why does he have to be such a tease?

you whine, “more.”

he lets out a low laugh. “more? you sure?”

“can you just fuckin’ do it,” you groan.

despite your pleas, he doesn’t change his pace. if anything, he slows. his thumb circles your clit again while your fingers side even deeper. dragging against that sweet, aching spot that he knew made your legs tremble.

“still five minutes left,” he murmurs. “don’t act like you’re in a rush.”

“you’re so annoying. i am in a rush.”

“yeah? then say please.”

through hooded eyes, you glare at him, “you’re—”

your insult dissolves into a strangled moan as he curls his fingers more tightly—a quick, repetitive opening and closing gesture. your head falls back, and your thigh begin to shake. his open hand stays steady with its job of pinning you in place. it builds just enough pressure to make your need grow tighter, sharper—until you’re sure you’re finally about to fucking release—

and then he stops.

you voice is broken as you whine, “‘m no—toru, don’t you fuckin’ dare—”

“y’know, baby, at first you said you didn’t even want this,” he murmurs with a slow, teasing smirk. “got such an attitude about it—your mouth’s so filthy, always switchin’ between yes and no…”

his palm lands firm against your clit. it brings a heat that makes you jolt. then, as if to soothe it, his slick fingers slide back up, circling your clit in a slow, lazy swirl.

“but this,” he continues, voice low, “this says yes.”

you bite your lip, “who’s to say you always know what i want? you don’t really think you’ve got me all figured out… do you?”

his gaze darkens, “why wouldn’t i?”

he leans in, and your instantly lips move against one another. it’s slow at first, similar to the way his fingers kept working you over. but gradually the kiss gets deeper, slower.

you were soaked. writhing against his hand.

you really didn’t want to give in.

y’know what?

fuck it.

“toru, baby,” you breathe, forehead resting softly against his. “please.”

he grins so hard its sickening. “ask and you shall receive.”

his fingers speed up, just enough to make you cry out again. your nails rake down his shoulder, and your other hand tightly grips the vanity behind you.

you’re seconds away. so close.

and then—he stops. again.

“no—!” you choke. desperate, dizzy. “please, i’ll do anything—”

“you will,” he says, sucking the slick off his fingers. “but not now.”

you stare dead at him. legs shaking. panties ruined. body filled with so much frustration that it hurt.

“you’re a monster,” you whisper.

“i’m your biggest fan.” he says, and this time his voice is softer than before.

he crosses the room to grab a piece of tissue, then comes back to you with a soft smile. “you’re sweating…don’t worry, it’s jus’ a little,” he murmurs. “don’t worry, as much as i would like to, i wouldn’t let you go out there jus’ lookin’ like anything. i kept an eye on it.”

gently, he dabs the sweat from your forehead. then he leans in and presses a kiss right where he wiped.

“now,” he says, full of pride, “go show ‘em who you belong to.”

a knock came at the door.

“one minute!”

you barely manage to stand, pulling your panties back into place with trembling fingers. your legs were sore. your mind was everywhere other than where it needed to be: the runway show. even stepping toward the hallway was a hassle.

and through all of this stress he has the nerve to smack your ass on the way out.

it’s not hard for the circle of light to find you. immediately, cheers and compliments erupt around the stage.

you got this, you think to yourself.

you take one step forward.

and stumble.

not mortifyingly. not so visibly. not to the cameras or the crowd. but you could feel the imbalance in your walk. your thighs brushed together and heat began to pulse between them with every single step. you couldn’t help but be so aware of everything that was indifferent from your other runway walks. you especially couldn’t help but be aware of the slick that was still coating your folds, soaking the delicate fabric.

when you get to the tip of the runway point, you catch satoru in the front row. his shirt is buttoned now—a attempt at him trying to look less like the bad influence he is.

and…what the fuck? is he…smirking?

he folds his arms, tongue peeking out to lick his bottom lip as his eyes raked over you.

you try to clear your mind as you finalize your performance. you walk. you pose. you turn.

every flash of the camera reminded you that you were still wet, still aching, still one touch away from falling apart completely.

and satoru knew it.

[cherrieshalo]

Silken Robes

prince!scaramouche x princess!reader | fluff, comfort | arranged marriage, royal au | 1.3k words

Being the princess of Fontaine, you were engaged to be married to the prince of Inazuma, Scaramouche. It was a binding agreement made many years ago, finally being set into action as the two of you become of-age to fulfill the agreement. It was something you were aware of from a young age, your hand in marriage being promised to a foreign man long before either of you had even been born. 

It wasn’t strange when the two nations met to discuss the prospects of the marriage, the head of each royal family coming together to refine the agreement. The shiny polished ring placed upon on your finger served as a reminder of your betrothed, the one who would play with you in the gardens and help steal pastries from the kitchen upon his occasional visits 

During the premarital trip to Inazuma, you were pushed into the suspected wedding planning you were far too exhausted to participate in. Tea ceremony rehearsals, cake testings, vow scripting, and nearly everything else that seemed to run your already low want to be married even farther into the ground. 

You stood on a pedestal in the Prince's palace as preparations for your wedding gown were rushed about. You were adorned in the finest of silk robes, body being posed in various ways as you were measured, draped and who knows what else as you were being fitted for your wedding garb. You knew it would be intricate, but you didn't know you'd be modeling into the late evening with only the patterns being made. Your hair was pinned up by your head to avoid any distraction, slowly beginning to itch.

You were growing sleepy, but tried to focus your attention out the big window and over the setting sun on the horizon.. Your new home...it wasn't awful, you really enjoyed your time in Inazuma, but it was quite the distance away from Fontaine. Your vision became slightly fuzzy as you zoned out, your arm being lifted for additional measurements. 

The young prince entered the room to assure the progress of the garments, the tailors and designers all bowing as he approached you with a smile. Scaramouche gazed up at you from your spot on the pedestal, a fond look on his face.

“There's my beautiful bride..." Scaramouche spoke softly, reaching his hand out to help you step down to ground level. "I think I'm going to have to see you in Inazuman garb more often. You do look quite exquisite..."

“Thank you…although, I am not quite sure they have been finished,” you sniffed softly, turning to look at him. 

“Perhaps not. But, that does mean that you’ll look absolutely enchanting when all the designs have been finished,” he gently kissed your forehead, gloved fingers swiping in a back-and-forth motion over your knuckles. 

Scaramouche examined your face, eyes scanning your pale features. Pale- no, sickly pale. The rouge on your lips stood out far too much.  He knew you haven’t been doing all too well recently; horribly nauseous ever since you stepped foot off the ship and onto the island. Barely eating, barely drinking, barely sleeping…he couldn’t bear to see you in such a horrid state. 

“Alright, I do think it is time to end today’s session. My poor bride has been tortured enough,” he spoke with slight hilarity as to not offend any of those working so diligently to make sure you looked your best on the day of the wedding. There were very few protests, many of the designers and tailors knowing better than to argue with the prince. As they began to pack up for the evening, Scaramouche turned back to you. “Come, we shall take a walk in the gardens to help clear your mind as we discuss an important matter.” 

Scaramouche led you through the palace and into the garden, the gravel and sand softly pittering under your slippers. The quiet hum of the pond and the croaking of the frogs calmed your mind as the two of you walked across the bridge, hand wrapped around his arm, and found a place to rest on a bench under an old maple wood tree. The sunlight casted a faint glow over the pond as the rays leaked through the red leaves, the atmosphere soft but clearly not dull. 

“My dear, would you be so kind as to tell me what has been troubling as of late?” Scaramouche’s soft voice rang through your ears as he gently pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear. 

You shook your head. “I’m alright. No need for any worry.” 

It was a lie. 

Clearly. 

Anyone could tell it was a lie, especially your future husband. 

“Nonsense,” Scaramouche scoffed in a bitter tone. “You look deathly pale. I do not remember the maids asking me if they can powder your face.” 

“I’m alright, I can assure you-” 

“No. You have barely eaten since your arrival. I have felt you toss and turn in my bed. Your eyes are sunken in and I noticed you have been zoning out when someone has not been speaking to you directly.” 

“Scaramouche. I am to be wed,” tears pricked the corners of your eyes. The salty sting made you blink, a bitter tear making its way down your cheek. “I am to be wed in a different nation. I am to live in a different nation, hours upon hours away from my people. Those who I have grown to govern and love. Far from my family and those I am closest to. So please, forgive me if I have not been myself. I have been through far too much these last few weeks.” 

Scaramouche's heart clenched as he watched the tears stain your cheeks, his expression morphing from his earlier concern to tenderness. He pulled you closer to him, enveloping you in his arms as he gently ran his nails up and down your back in soothing motions. He understood your fears, he too would feel the same in such a position, but the thought of you being so upset and homesick made his chest tighten. 

"Hush, my dear... I know. I know this transition is difficult for you." His voice softened, arms encircling you to be protective. "But you must understand my worry... your symptoms have become worrisome."

“I’ll be alright…” you assured him, burying your face into his shoulder. Scaramouche held you in his arms, tilting your chin up to press his forehead gently against yours. His voice was low, filled with a mix of reassurance and gentle firmness.

"You will be alright. You’re strong and resilient. You always make your way through. But you must promise me that if your worries and declining health persist, you will let the physicians examine you. I can't bear to see you ill." He lifted his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours.. There was a flicker of worry still present in his eyes while his protective instinct refused to fade.

“I will, I promise…” 

“Good, I trust your word. We do not want to have you looking like a corpse on your wedding day now, do we?” 

“No, I suppose we do not. I am to look lively, not…deathly,” you sniffled, reaching with your sleeve to wipe at the tears. You stopped, pulling down the silk fabric before using the inner-side of your wrist. 

“Splendid. How about we return to our quarters, then? I’ll ask the maids to prepare you a bath and make you a warm meal. I want to allow you to rest for a bit. You deserve it, after all.” 

God, this was the man you were marrying? So sweet and kind…you couldn’t even imagine what he would be like once you would finally be his wife. You sniffled once more, unsure if the tears were from the built-up stress or the kind gesture. “Please, that sounds so lovely…” 

Scaramouche smiled softly, pulling you up by your hand. 

“I’ll notify them right away, then. I shall make sure your evening is spent well-rested,” he gently pulled you along, making what would be the first (and surely not the last) of many acts of service to the one he will love to the end of time. 

© property of cherrieshalo 2025 - please do not steal or copy my work to post elsewhere

[pankowcrumbs]

Start Your Engines X Lando Norris (Requested)

Requested:  Lando Norris x Reader The Reader is a famous model and Lando gets nervous around her.

MasterList

F1 Masterlist

It wasn’t the first time I’d been invited somewhere because of who I was but this time, it felt different. When McLaren reached out and asked if I’d like to attend the Silverstone Grand Prix as a guest in their garage, I’d hesitated. I loved the atmosphere of Formula 1, but I was always cautious about crossing into other worlds too publicly. Being a model came with enough scrutiny as it was.

But something in me said yes. Maybe it was the rush of the track. Maybe it was that my schedule finally gave me a rare weekend off. Or maybe it had something to do with a certain brown-haired, boyish-smiled driver.

I arrived in the garage just before the final practice session. The buzz was electric engineers scrambling, tyres rolling, fans screaming somewhere behind the barricades. I tucked my VIP pass into my jacket pocket and took it all in, letting the adrenaline of the paddock seep under my skin.

And then I saw him.

Lando Norris.

He looked better in real life than in any photo or interview I'd ever seen and that was saying something. His suit clung to his frame like a second skin, curls tucked under his helmet before he pulled it off and ran a hand through his hair. He glanced in my direction once. Then again. The second time, our eyes met, and his mouth twitched into the faintest of grins.

He approached slowly, almost nervously and it hit me.

Lando Norris was nervous.

"Hi," he said, voice slightly higher than I expected. “You’re… Y/N, right?”

“Guilty,” I replied, extending my hand. “And you’re Lando Norris, unless I’ve wandered into the wrong garage.”

He laughed, brushing a hand behind his neck. “Definitely the right garage. I, uh, didn’t expect McLaren to pull out the big guns today.”

“Big guns?” I smirked.

“You know,” he gestured to me. “Supermodel. High fashion. Cameras. And I’m over here trying to remember which pedal’s the brake.”

“Don’t get shy on me now, Norris.”

He blushed. Full-on, pink-cheeked, bashful smile. I’d barely said anything.

It was almost too easy.

I leaned in slightly as the engineers signalled it was time to get in the car. He turned toward the crew, already slipping into race mode. But just before he stepped away, I leaned close to his ear, and in the sultriest tone I could manage, whispered:

“If you win today…” I paused as he stilled beside me, “…I’ll give you anything you want.”

His head snapped toward me so fast I thought he’d pull a muscle. Wide eyes. Mouth slightly open. I winked and turned on my heel, walking back to the pit wall as if I hadn’t just lit the man on fire.

The race was electric.

Lando drove like a man possessed quick off the line, weaving through traffic like it was instinct, not strategy. Every lap had me on edge, every radio message making me grin. You could hear the adrenaline in his voice. He wasn’t just fast. He was fearless. Focused.

By lap 40, commentators were shouting over each other, praising one of the best drives of his career. By the final ten, he was in P1. And when he crossed the finish line?

Pandemonium.

Cheers erupted in the garage. Engineers were hugging, people jumping. I felt myself beaming like an idiot.

I was waiting at parc fermé when he climbed out of the car, removing his helmet and running a hand through his damp curls. His eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on me.

I gave him a wink.

He visibly swallowed.

“You alright, champ?” I called over the noise.

He jogged toward me, slowed down, then stood awkwardly in front of me like a teenager about to ask his crush to prom.

“I, uh… I won.”

“I noticed,” I grinned. “And driver of the day. I’m guessing you’re collecting all your prizes.”

He blushed again. God, it was endearing.

But what floored me wasn’t the flirting it was how genuinely smitten he looked. There was admiration behind his smile. And when he leaned in and whispered, “Do I get to cash in on that surprise?” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Later,” I whispered. “You’ve got interviews to do, superstar.”

Watching him stumble through post-race interviews was a personal highlight.

"So, Lando fantastic drive today. That confidence, the overtakes, the pace... you were in a league of your own!"

“Uh… thanks,” he said, voice cracking just slightly. “I was just, you know, really… motivated.”

“Motivated?” the interviewer echoed. “Anything specific?”

He glanced toward me standing just outside frame and his entire face went red.

“Let’s just say someone gave me a very… compelling reason to win today.”

The interviewer laughed. I did too, biting back a grin.

When it was all over, and we were back in the private hospitality area, he finally got a moment to breathe. I handed him a bottle of water, and he collapsed on the sofa beside me.

“You’re a menace,” he muttered, smiling at the ceiling.

“I only said what I said because I knew it’d work,” I teased, nudging his shoulder. “Didn’t expect you to get Driver of the Day, though. Overachiever.”

He turned his head toward me, smile softening. “You really think I’m cute?”

“Lando,” I said, placing a hand on his chest, “I’ve had runway seats next to the most gorgeous men in the world. And somehow you, sweaty, in your race suit, blushing like an idiot, are the one making my heart race.”

He blinked. “Okay… well, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

We sat in silence for a moment, the post-race buzz finally starting to die down.

“I don’t usually do this,” he said quietly.

“Do what?”

“Fall this fast.”

I looked at him. Really looked. He wasn’t just playing a part. He wasn’t being cocky or charming for show. He was being honest.

Neither was I.

“I don’t either,” I admitted.

He reached over, entwined our fingers, and kissed the back of my hand. “What do you say we cash in that prize?”

I leaned in, brushing my lips against his ear. “You sure you’ve got the stamina after that race, Norris?”

He laughed a proper belly laugh.

“I think you’ll find,” he said, standing up and pulling me to my feet, “I’m full of surprises.”

[marlynnofmany]

Similar Skill Sets

“Aw, man,” I muttered, staring at the board game. “Was it this one or that one? I was trying to get over here, but you moved that row. I think it’s this one?” My finger hovered over the switch on one nearly-identical tile among many.

Captain Sunlight gave away nothing, her scaly yellow face serene. “Make your move.”

“It already smells like a flower shop threw up in here.” I struggled with the switch, my human fingernail barely up to the task usually meant for Heatseeker claws. When it finally clicked, the tile spurted a weak jet of scent. This one smelled more leafy than flowery, but I still had no flaming idea if it was the one I was trying to find. I sniffed the scent compartment of the token I’d drawn, hoping they matched. Leafy? Vines, maybe?

“I’m sorry it’s such an old model,” said Captain Sunlight, taking pity on me and drawing her next token. “The scents are fainter than they should be. Maybe we can get replacement cartridges at the next station.”

I sighed as I watched her make three moves in a row, matching up scented tiles and rearranging the maze of the board until I’d lost all idea of where my target was. “Somehow I don’t think that would help.”

She sat back, idly spinning the last token she needed to find. “I wonder if there’s a model with scents from your planet. This is a pretty popular game; it only makes sense that they would branch out.”

“Maybe.” I stared at the maze, plotting pathways and trying to find a target that I could reach in a single turn. My odds weren’t great that it would be the right one, but that was better than nothing. “I’d probably be able to tell them apart better if they were things like cinnamon and citrus, but if the game makers just went for all flowers there too, I’d still be guessing. It’s not my area of expertise.” I shifted a row and moved my piece, then spent a moment trying once again to identify a scent.

“That’s the one you tried last time,” Captain Sunlight told me, dashing all hopes. Her next move was swift and decisive, countering the detour I’d just thrown in her path. She set her final token on the stack of others and waggled her fingers in silent triumph.

I slumped against the backrest. “This is definitely not my game.”

The captain began disassembling the board. “How about you pick the next one?”

“My pleasure,” I said in relief, immediately moving toward the entertainment cabinet. This lounge was well stocked after our last stop. “Want to do a puzzle?”

“What kind? Cube, sphere, string?”

“Uh, the regular flat kind,” I said, holding up the box. It showed a lovely nature scene (waterfall), a piece count (100), and a planet of origin (Earth).

“That sounds refreshingly different,” said Captain Sunlight. She carefully fitted the scent tiles into their insulated compartment. “Competitive or cooperative?”

“Cooperative,” I said, bringing it over to the table while she finished putting away the other game. “Though I suppose there’s room for trash talk about who’s working faster.”

“How very considerate. Have you played this with Trrili or Zhee yet?”

“Not yet,” I said with a smile, easily able to imagine the amount of agitated hissing and pincher clicks that would come from a competitive game between those two. “This one’s new. I was thinking Blip and Blop might like it.” The Frillian twins were also competitive, though they worked well together. I had no idea if they were any good at puzzles.

Time to see if the captain was. She set aside the other box and I opened this one, spilling the hundred puzzle pieces onto the table and getting to work flipping them over.

Captain Sunlight followed my lead. “So is the goal to assemble them in a certain pattern?”

“Yeah, they make up this picture.” I pointed at the box. “It’s easiest once they’re all color-side up.”

“I see,” she said, as focused as if she was studying a new trade language. “How long do you expect this round to take?”

“This one should be pretty quick,” I told her. “It’s just a hundred pieces, and a lot of different colors. If this was a picture of a green field with a blue sky and not much else, that would be a lot more annoying.”

“Seems like that would be less to keep track of.”

“Sure, but fewer clues about where things go.” I held up a fragment of vivid purple. “This one, for example, can only go in the corner. No mystery there.” I pointed out the matching flower on the box.

Captain Sunlight nodded, still looking serious. “Right. Deduction. So do we take turns?”

“Nah, that would take too long. It’s more fun just to go for it. Unless you want to make it harder?”

“No no, the regular way is fine.” She hurried to flip over the last few, then looked at me and waited.

“Righto. The best way to start is by finding the corners first, then the edges. It narrows things down. Do you see any corners? Here’s one.”

We began. It really was an easy puzzle, but I could see the captain was struggling. This was a surprise, to say the least. Sunlight was smart. Always thinking ahead, clever and levelheaded and full of insights, but she seemed to have trouble guessing which direction a piece should go, even when it was perfectly obvious to me.

“Oh hey,” I said. “I was looking for that one. It goes right here.”

“This way?”

“Turn it so the sticking-out bit goes … yeah, like that.”

“And is this one also part of this red patch?”

“No, that one has smaller red petals; it belongs in the other spot. I JUST saw the piece that fits it, too; that was overrrrr… Here it is!” I plucked it out of the mess and Captain Sunlight handed me the other piece, letting me put them where they belonged.

I suggested, “See if you can find all the speckled blue ones, and we can fill in this area.”

She gamely searched for blue among the chaos of colors, visibly scanning pieces one at a time with concentration on her lizardy face. I hesitated over whether to pretend I couldn’t see all five of the pieces we needed, or to speed things up. I settled on grabbing material for the grassy area nearby, only picking out the last blue one when she’d found the rest.

This turned into a pattern of me asking for pieces in a certain color, which she gathered slowly and I assembled. The puzzle took about three times as long to finish as I’d thought.

“Success!” the captain said as she clicked the last piece into place. (I’d left it for her to do the honors.) “That was surprisingly challenging. I must say, I’m glad it wasn’t competitive.”

“Ah, you wouldn’t have lost as badly as I did in that last game,” I said, lying through my human teeth.

“That’s kind of you to say,” she told me. “I do wonder how some of the rest of the crew would take to this, though. Mur is always looking for a difficult game he can excel at.”

“Because you usually beat him?” I guessed with a grin, quieting when I picked up the sound of tentacles approaching down the hallway.

A blue-black squid head appeared around the corner. “I hear it’s game time in here!” Mur declared. “And we have new puzzles after the last stop.”

“Do you mean this puzzle?” I asked, gesturing at the completed waterfall. “Lemme just take it back apart—”

Mur ignored me, tentacle-walking over to fling open the cabinet and reach in. “These puzzles!” he exclaimed, pulling out several Strongarm puzzle cubes. “We’ve got a range of difficulty levels here. These two are unsuited to fingers, but I imagine you poor souls with no tentacles could manage one of these!”

He lined them up along the edge of the table with all the flair of a children’s magician, or maybe an older sibling who was looking forward to seeing the younger kids suffer. Since I’d been subjected to the Strongarm version of a “simple kid’s challenge” before and nearly dislocated something, that seemed appropriate.

I sighed and exchanged looks with Captain Sunlight. She didn’t seem particularly excited either.

Then more tentacles slapped down the hall, and Wio joined us. “Hey! Kavlae says it’s puzzle time! I told Mimi to take a break from the tool-sorting he’s been doing, and we can see who’s puzzle master today.”

The look I exchanged with Captain Sunlight now was different. “Let me just clear the table for you,” I said, picking up the puzzle box.

“Yes, by all means,” said the captain. “You can have my chair.”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).