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youarewhatyoulove-blog · 6 months

Text

the violence of the dog days.

pairing: jeongguk x reader

summary: In the midst of summertime, after a week of neglect, your boyfriend has a way of making you feel even more heated.

you're hot and horny for jeongguk.

rating: mature🔞 (minors please dni)

genre: non-idol au, college au, established relationship, smut, fluff, pwp

word count: 9.2k words of unadulterated smut.

warnings: reader and jeongguk are absolute horny simps for each other, but they're also so inlove, soft boyfriend jeongguk (because yes that is a warning), jeongguk is a law student (oof), overuse of the petname 'baby', reader hasn't been getting it seven days a week😔, switch jeongguk (kinda), hair pulling, hickeys, making out, thigh riding, nipple play (jeongguk is proudly a boob guy), religious imagery because jeongguk worships reader like a god, usage of the words 'c*nt' and 'p*ssy' (because i know some people are iffy about that), cunnilingus (f-receiving), jeongguk is low-key a sadist y'all (in his fantasies), a bit of dom/sub dynamics, prayers for reader because jeongguk's got that big d🙏🏽, unprotected sex, doggy style, degradation, a teeny weeny bit of overstimulation, creampie - like this is just pure smut guys 😬, possessive sex, choking, aftercare, reader kinda hints at having attachment issues (but don't we all).

author's note: 1. please ignore any typos :). of course, i'd appreciate any feedback or constructive criticism. but if you find yourself uncomfortable by any of the themes in this fic, there's no need for hate, just kindly move on. 2. also, this is a lot longer and softer than i intended. this fic was supposed to be purely hard smut, but i fell in love with the characters and their relationship, and some aspects of the story just turned out sickeningly sweet - so proceed with caution.

You're an hour into tossing and turning when you can't take it anymore.

The heat.

With June coming to a close end, the surviving remnants of summer creep in through your bedroom window with barely a whisper of a breeze. It clings to every part of your skin, that ever-lingering humidity thickening the air, and wraps itself around your body like a cloak. For some reason, you thought that scrolling aimlessly through the various apps on your phone would help distract your mind from the muggy weather or maybe, by some miracle, even lull you to sleep.

But it hasn’t—of course it hasn't. Because summer is here to stay, burrowing deep within your bones and making a home there. Each passing minute is a testament to that, insomnia creeping up your spine with ill intent and wriggling into every cranny of your mind until you feel like you're losing it.

Perhaps you are, you think.

Because when the desk fan a few feet away suddenly stops whirring and the fumbling grasp you had on sleep slips from your reach like a fleeting dream in the morning light as a result of it—drifting further and further away—you hit your breaking point. The lack of white noise and cool air blowing your way mounts your frustration into place. It hangs there in the ether like a looming shadow but, unlike your slumber, has no plans of deserting you.

With an annoyed huff, you drop your phone back onto the nightstand for the umpteenth time and kick your leg out from under the duvet.

“Fuck.” You sigh, rolling onto your back.

A thin sheen of sweat lingers on the surface of your skin, causing the sheets to stick uncomfortably to every part of your body. You spread your limbs out like a starfish in some futile attempt to cool them down, hoping that you'll catch a draft, but the action only reminds you of how largely cavernous your bed feels right now.

The space beside you is missing a particular doe-eyed boy and, as your hand brushes over the empty spot, you realize that it's not so much the seasonal heat that's making you feel weirdly restless, but rather Jeongguk's absence. In an inconveniently clingy way, you need his body settled next to you at night, your legs and arms a tangled mess beneath the blankets.

You don't know why that is. Why sleep eludes you like a compass without direction, unable to find its way to you when Jeongguk isn't near. But you don't mull over it or give the thought a foothold to stand amongst the endless anxieties already in your head.

All you know is that cuddling up with him in the evening is perhaps one of your favourite pastimes. Akin to a baby with it's bottle, falling asleep in his embrace is something you've grown incredibly used to, maybe even a little dependent on—like a security blanket or night-light—and there's nothing you can do about it.

Sneaking a glance towards the dim light spilling in from beneath the bedroom door, you picture Jeongguk on the other side. Chances are, he’s still where you last left him. Sitting cross-legged on the couch with a laptop balancing carefully on his lap, eyebrows scrunched together in concentration, as he catches up on coursework.

You worry your lip, the thought of your boyfriend causing your mind to wander...

He looked so good tonight; adorned in a pair of grey sweats and a baggy t-shirt with his tattoos fully exposed. His dark hair was strewn across his forehead, falling into his eyes in a way that made your fingers itch.

You, on the other hand, are sporting an old, oversized shirt you opted to steal from Jeongguk's wardrobe to combat the high temperatures, but it hasn't helped much. The heat still loiters, creeping up the back of your neck and imbuing your cheeks with warmth.

It makes you long for winter, for the bitter nip of frosty ice and pelting rain, and the desire for that inadvertently reminds you of that fucking silver lip ring Jeongguk had gotten recently.

The memory of its cold, metal sting against your lips as he kissed you goodnight sends a distant, carnal hum coursing throughout your veins. It's probably tugged anxiously between his teeth right now whilst he types away, eyes deadset on the screen before him, and the image of that sends you reeling. Makes your skin flush further, yearning to feel its steel bite again.

For some reason, it propels you into motion, skin prickling as you throw your legs over the edge of the mattress without a second thought.

The last thing you want to do is bother his progress or interrupt his work, but selfishly, you persist. That gnawing feeling deep within your chest is too hard to ignore, heart beating voraciously with each step you take because it longs to be satiated by Jeongguk's presence. Your boyfriend is only one room over, just four thin walls separating the two of you, yet still—you miss him, want him.

Treading lightly, you hear the persistent click-clack of his keyboard and the muffled sound of typing only grows louder as you step out into the hallway. The wooden flooring is frigid beneath your feet, a sensation you immediately relish in as soon as the fiery crawl of discomfort across your skin begins to lessen. Your shirt—or more precisely, Jeongguk’s shirt—falls flat from your waist, landing a few inches above your knees, as you wander further into the apartment.

Just as you’d predicted, Jeongguk is all pretzelled up on the sofa, too focused on his work to hear you enter. A few empty bottles of soju and convenience store snacks litter the coffee table, serving as silent witnesses to the length of time he's been out here. He must have dimmed the lights as well because a faint, warm glow shrouds every facet of the room, making him look particularly soft at this hour.

You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around the length of his shoulders as you bend over the couch's headrest to envelop him in a hug. ”Hey,” You hum softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Jeongguk startles slightly at the contact, shaken from his deep concentration as he angles his head to look up at you. “Shit, baby. You scared me.” He breathes, voice rough from disuse. It rumbles through you like a distant thunderstorm, body vibrating with electricity.

“Sorry,” You murmur, glancing at the assignment he's been working on and tiny pangs of guilt gradually trickle into your stomach. “I didn't mean to disturb you, but-”

“You're not disturbing me.” Jeongguk instantly reassures, scanning your face with a knowing look. “Can’t sleep?” He asks and you nod, burying your face into the crook of his neck. The scent of his body wash immediately encompasses you like a warm embrace, wild pinewood and bergamot invading your senses.

“I thought you’d be in bed by now.” You mumble against his skin, unable to hide the pout in your voice.

Jeongguk frowns, eyes flickering to the time at the bottom of his laptop screen.

Shit, he hadn’t even noticed how late it’s gotten, the hours skulking along the cusp of a new day. He should probably be turning in for the night, head to bed and worry about this project tomorrow, but he’d rather not postpone his responsibilities. Not when you’re staying over the weekend and he could be spending that time with you instead.

“I know.” Jeongguk responds, hand coming up to intertwine with yours. “I’ll be there soon, okay?” He promises, bringing your knuckles to his lips. The featherlight kiss he presses there soothes you like a curative balm.

“Okay,” You relent, untangling yourself from his body. “But, can I stay here for a bit? It’s too hot in there.” You half lie, gesturing towards the bedroom while simultaneously walking over to the kitchen only a few feet away.

“Yeah, of course.” He murmurs, eyes following your movements.

“Thanks, Kook.” You smile, sparing him a glance over your shoulder as your eyes sparkle with mirth. “By the way, your fan broke down again.”

“Again?” He laments, eyebrows furrowed together whilst he runs a disgruntled hand through his hair. “I seriously need to get that old thing repaired or maybe even replaced.” He grumbles to himself, before a guilty afterthought occurs at the sight of you. “Fuck, I'm so sorry, baby. No wonder you couldn't sleep.”

You don't tell him that it's not so much the heat keeping you awake but, more so, him.

“No, don't worry about it.” You settle on instead, trying to dispel his concerns. “It's not your fault.”

This isn't the first time that Jeongguk’s fan has given him problems. He's had the thing since high school; so it’s no surprise that the motor tends to give in every now and then, running a little too hot. He’s been meaning to get the issue sorted, but hasn’t really found the time to do that these days.

“Plus, I'd much rather be out here with you.” You add.

Jeongguk smiles at you so sweetly then, dimples making an appearance, and your body flushes all over, burning once again.

God, what is wrong with you tonight?

You need to calm down, cool down. At this rate, you feel like an overheating engine, bound to crash in on yourself and combust.

Grabbing a glass of ice water from the fridge dispenser, you rein yourself in, distracting your mind with conversation. “I promise not to be a bother though, like you won't even notice I'm here.” You say, before chugging the cold liquid down on the spot, completely ignorant to the way that Jeongguk drinks you in.

A welcome sight is what you are, so cute tonight with your hair all mussed, practically drowning in his shirt. “You’re never a bother.” He responds, mouth going dry when you lean back to empty the glass. The action causes your shirt to hike up, the creamy expanse of your thighs further exposed to his hungry eyes.

He feels his dick stir at the sight.

“How much longer do you think you’ll be?” You ask, wiping your lips with the back of your palm, as you place your cup in the sink and shuffle over towards your boyfriend.

“Uhh…” Jeongguk clears his throat, broken out of his stupor. He turns back to face his laptop, skimming the Word document that's open before him when he feels you nestle into his side a second later. Automatically, he brings a hand down to rest against your leg.

“I’m not sure,” He grumbles, thumb rubbing soothing circles against your bare thigh. The absent-minded touch ignites something in you, skin blazing at the contact, and you try your best to suppress the goosebumps that rise in Jeongguk’s wake. “Maybe another hour or so?” He guesses.

“Oh.” You mumble and, although you fight the disappointed curl of your lips, Jeongguk doesn’t miss the deflated look on your face.

“I’m sorry,” He squeezes your thigh apologetically, frown overtaking his pretty features. “I know it’s been a while since we spent time together.”

A week exactly, you note, but ultimately keep that detail to yourself. After all, neither one of you is to blame for being so busy, constantly caught between work and university.

You think that's maybe the reason you're feeling so needy tonight, body set ablaze by every minor look and touch from your boyfriend. In a way, you're feeling a little neglected since your relationship’s taken the backseat, not by choice but by consequence, and you don’t know how to deal with it.

“It's fine.” You shrug. "It's not like we can help it.”

You try to be nonchalant about the matter, injecting the slightest hint of indifference into your tone, but Jeongguk sees right through you.

He always does.

“Come here.” He says suddenly, voice soft as he shifts his laptop onto the coffee table.

You look up at him, confusion clear on your face.

“What?” You blink, but your question falls on deaf ears because Jeongguk merely uncrosses his legs and pats his lap.

“Come here,” He then repeats and reaches for your waist.

You're uncertain for the briefest of moments, eyeing Jeongguk suspiciously, before you ultimately give in like malleable clay in his soft hands, allowing him to pull you onto his lap with ease. “I've been working for hours.” He grumps once you're comfortably straddling his waist, hands resting on either side of your hips. “Hardly seen you since you got here.”

You hum, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in thought. It's no secret that you've been spending a lot more time at Jeongguk's place in lieu of your ratty little dorm room. You felt bad about it at first, feeling as though you were invading his space and overstaying your welcome. But your boyfriend couldn't be happier about it. He rather likes the idea of your lives interlocking, melding together as if they were puzzle pieces falling into place. He likes that when he's working, like on nights like this, that you're just on the opposite side of the door, not one phone call or car ride away.

He likes that you're his and he is, equally as much, yours.

“I wanted to leave you to your work.” You explain, curling your arms around his neck. Your fingers absentmindedly play with the ends of his hair that have grown out and the light touch only brings about the memory of how much he has missed you these past few days.

“Well, it's about time I take a break, don't you think?” Jeongguk muses and you become hyper-aware of the way his fingers brush up your spine. “Give my girl some attention…” He trails on, eyes flickering to your lips.

You practically preen at the idea, smiling shyly as you lean into his touch. “I wouldn't object to that.” Your heart patters in your chest, beating wildly at the mere sight of Jeongguk. At the thought of him finally touching you, kissing you, quenching your thirst after this week-long drought. “I've missed you.”

Jeongguk chuckles faintly. “Me too, baby.” He murmurs, perching his head upwards to press his lips against yours.

The kiss is gentle, chaste, his plush lips feeling so featherlight against yours. You almost imagine they were never there to begin with because Jeongguk pulls away before you can truly savour the taste of them.

“You know, you look so pretty in my clothes.” He begins, large hand spreading lazily around your left hip and up your back. “Kinda makes me want to wreck you.”

“You already wreck me.” You breathe without missing a beat.

“Yeah?” Jeongguk rasps, his voice low and a little dark. It sends a thrill straight up your spine.

You nod in response, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “No one makes me feel the way you do.” You admit, eyes flitting across his face. It's an unwavering truth—one that simultaneously scares and excites you in this quiet dead of night.

“Can I kiss you again?” The words come out as a breathy whisper; as if you've been holding on to them for too long, as if they're the oxygen you so desperately need to breathe, and Jeongguk tilts his head, bewildered frown on his face.

“How is that even a question.” He gripes, slanting his head in a means to meet your mouth halfway, but you have another idea.

You press into him instead, leaning forward, and set out to peck lovingly along the curvature of Jeongguk’s jawline. He huffs in amusement, endeared by the way you take control. Because, although he’s usually the dominant one in the bedroom, he doesn't mind when you take charge like this. In fact, he's grown to love it. Loves the way you come into your own, toying and teasing with him, until your own actions cause you to grow desperate.

It's one of his greater weaknesses, his Achilles heel, and right now, you want nothing more than to expose it. Unveil a certain side of him. The one that'll see how far you can push before he starts to push back. The one that'll give in and take you right here on this couch after he's entertained your antics for long enough and you finally beg him to fuck you.

Your body practically hums at the thought.

You map out his skin, lips brushing against the surface like you're exploring a new land. Every movement careful, every touch claiming what's yours. And it almost goes to your head—how quickly Jeongguk submits to your mouth’s assault, his body relaxing into the couch like he's letting you have your way with him.

Jeongguk doesn't tell you that he is. That your lips are a holy grail he'd happily yield to.

When your teeth graze lightly at a particular soft spot below his ear, he lets out a small groan, eyes falling closed at the sensation. You feel the sound roll through you, the ache between your legs becoming hard to ignore when you think about the fact that you've roused that melody from his mouth.

It spurs you on, makes you want to hear it again and again. You want to paint the entire column of his neck red and then watch your confession of love fade to a bruised purple in the weeks to come. You want to rediscover all the ways that you can make Jeongguk sing, and the way your body dances to his tune in turn. Your lips lap him up, kisses becoming indelicate with desperation, teeth nipping with intent along his upper jaw, tongue tracing over the skin before you repeat all these gestures twicefold.

You can feel yourself growing wet, relish in the way that Jeongguk's hands tighten around your form. “Shit,” He mumbles and your body crows. Without pause, you shift against his lap and move to the neglected side of his neck, targeting the skin there. You can feel him getting hard beneath you, your core situated right above his growing erection, and it causes a shiver to run down your spine.

You plant a few messy kisses against his throat, nibbling vehemently, but then Jeongguk tuts and pries his eyes open before you have the opportunity to really sink your teeth into him.

“Baby,” He warns, curling a hand into your hair to form a makeshift ponytail. “No marks. I've got a presentation on Monday.” He says and pulls you back by an inch. His movements are somewhat hesitant, voice rough, like he's not entirely sure he truly wants you to stop.

But he has to. He can't afford to show up to class on Monday and present the most important project of his life with hickeys all over his neck.

“Next time.” He promises, but you consider outright ignoring him for a second, even though it's nonsensical, like some twisted form of punishment for a week of neglect.

But it’s Jeongguk—Jeongguk who’s been extra stressed lately about completing his degree. Jeongguk who’s carving time out of working on his big assignment right now—one which, not only counts forty percent of his grade, but could also earn him an internship at one of the top law firms in Seoul if he's lucky enough—all to pay special attention to you.

So, “Fine.” You give in, albeit a little petulantly, and brace your hands against his chest, face feeling flushed. “I’m sorry. I just wanna be close to you is all.”

“I know. Me too.” He rasps, grip on your hair loosening a touch, but not completely. “We don't have to stop though, just don't mark me up.” He explains, free hand rubbing up and down your thigh.

“Okay,” You slide your palms up his chest, feeling the toned muscles tense beneath your touch. “I really love you, you know?”

Jeongguk's eyes soften, a hint of a smile creeping up on his face. “I know,” He hums, tugging at your hair in a way that makes your scalp tingle. “But I don't think it comes close to how much I love you.” He rasps, using his grip as leverage to pull your head backwards until the delicate skin of your throat is exposed. “It's incomparable.” He murmurs, placing a single kiss on the side of your mouth before he travels south, lips peppering across your jawline.

You shiver, hands twisting into the thick material of Jeongguk's t-shirt. You want to tell him that it's not a competition, that you'd love him until the sun stops rising and, even if this one week of distance had been more, you know that he feels the same.

But the heavy palpitations in your chest causes the words to dissolve on your tongue because Jeongguk pulls the collar of your shirt to the side a second later, exposing more of your skin, before he traces a path along your décolletage. He's touching you like a starved man, mouth just as desperate and feverish as you’re starting to feel.

A stuttered gasp escapes your lips, your hands moving upwards, unsure of where to be, when he nips at a particularly sensitive spot. You settle them on his shoulders.

“Jeongguk,” You moan, the tingling between your legs maturing into an unbearable ache.

“I know, baby.” He abruptly pulls away from your clavicle—lips red, eyes blown. “Tell me what you want.”

His demand goes over your head because you don't know what you want; can barely think straight with the lingering feeling of Jeongguk's lips on your neck. With the growing wetness sticking uncomfortably to your panties. With the burning, hot embers laying at the base of your stomach, begging to be set ablaze. And Jeongguk knows that. Knows that you're neither here nor there, only somewhere in the middle, teetering on the line of endless choices. So he lets go of your hair then, manoeuvres your body until you're straddling only his left thigh.

“Don't think about it, baby.” He murmurs, both hands moving to your hips. He guides them back and forth, slow and gentle, with just enough pressure to relieve that desperate throbbing in your pussy. “Just feel.”

And you do, sinking into your own little bubble, a paradise as impenetrable as the gates of heaven. You take your time to grind up against him, moving in tandem with the flow of his hands and a soft whimper climbs up your throat at the sensation of your clit brushing against the firm muscles of Jeongguk’s thigh. You're already so soaked, underwear absolutely sodden from the relentless pendular motions of your pelvis, and when you look down to find a dark, damp spot beginning to stain Jeongguk's sweatpants, you can't help but intensify your movements.

It should be embarrassing, how quickly you've become turned on, how much you're dripping, when Jeongguk's barely touched you, but instead you just feel liberated. Pure power coursing through your veins because your boyfriend has given you the reins, is letting you use his body like a bitch in heat, and it's exhilarating; intoxicating every facet of your mind.

“That's it,” Jeongguk purrs, deserting your hips once you gain momentum to instead sneak both hands up the hem of your shirt.

Your breath escapes its chambers when he trails past the soft curve of your waist and straight to your breasts. “Fuck, you're so beautiful.” He grunts, gaze intent on your every reaction, like he's watching artwork unfold. His nimble fingers circle your nipples, tracing them with the most tantalizing pattern, until they begin to harden.

“Please,” You choke, clasping his shirt in between your fists like it's some sort of lifeline. You're not even sure what you're begging for, pace quickening as you ride Jeongguk’s thigh more aggressively. Every rut forward sends sparks shooting throughout your body, nerve endings alight, and when Jeongguk pinches your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, your back arches in pleasure. A throaty moan penetrates the room otherwise filled with nothing but your uneven pants and the sound of Jeongguk's voice.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” He groans, hands inching towards your shirt’s lower seam. He drags it over your torso, itching for better access to your breasts. Even in your muddled state, you meet him halfway, raising your arms above your head until the damned thing is off and you're left in nothing but your lacy underwear.

You hardly have time to adjust to the humid air hitting your torso, when Jeongguk tips his head forward, enveloping your right nipple into his mouth with reckless abandon. The response is instantaneous, a strangled sob slipping past your lips at the feeling of his warm mouth encased around your stiffened peak. His tongue swipes across your nipple, shockwaves manifesting at the blissful contact, and you don't know how much longer you're going to last—an embarrassing feat you don’t ponder on too much.

Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the attention Jeongguk pays you. Whimpering when the pads of his fingers move to fondle the nipple of your forsaken breast while the other submits to his mouth’s pleasurable torment, each purposeful pinch causing them to tighten all the more. Your skin feels like it's on fire, the warmth of Jeongguk's touch igniting the cinders glowing from deep within your belly. “I-I think,” You swallow, your pussy rubbing deliciously into Jeongguk's leg. “I think I'm going to come soon,” You manage to admit through a repressed whine, voice so strained it sounds foreign even to your own ears.

You don't think you've ever hit an orgasm this quickly. You've never had to. Because you and Jeongguk are like inseparable magnets; every atom in your bodies drawn to each other, always connecting like two poles seeking the other out—never going more than a few days without some form of intimacy. Never mind a week.

At least, not until now.

So when Jeongguk bounces his leg upwards to meet the force of your pussy coming down on his quadricep, adding to the way you slam into him, your clit positively throbbing at the impact, you feel the onset of that familiar coil in your stomach tightening.

“Just let go, baby.” Jeongguk rasps, granting you permission with one final flick of your nipples and then you're coming undone, white fiery heat flooding every fiber of your body, as you cry out his name. Only his name, forever on your lips. You feel the way your entire form convulses, the way Jeongguk helps you through it, flexing his thigh so that you can get the most out of your orgasm, and your hips buck forward—unrelenting and greedy—before they finally ease into a slow rut. Grinding into him until the receding, minuscule waves of pleasure begin to fade.

With the last few clenches of your pulsating core, you slowly catch your breath, muscles slackening as you become pliant in Jeongguk's arms, the weight of your body suddenly too much for you to bear. Your boyfriend holds you tight though, both hands moving to your waist to keep you secure.

Behind the darkness of your closed eyelids; you hear Jeongguk softly murmur your name and feel the way his hand comes up to your face, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your ear before he cups your cheeks. “You okay, angel?” He asks, voice emerging as a hushed tone.

When you manage to tear your eyes open and give him a soft, affirmative nod, Jeongguk seems satisfied, pressing a delicate kiss to your sternum before he shifts you from his lap and onto your back in one fell, but gentle swoop.

Your head hits the soft leather of the sofa with the aftermath of your climax still lingering against your skin like crackling electricity, fuzzing up your mind. “You think you can take more?” He asks, eyes flitting across your face to get a read on your current state of mind.

You nod your head assuredly, reaching out to make a grab for his body, to bring him closer. “Yeah I can,” You say confidently, arm's snaking up his back to explore the taut muscles that reside there.

Jeongguk is hovering over your body, thigh pressed hotly between your legs, and even though you can feel the rush of arousal, brought on only a second ago, pooling uncomfortably in your underwear—you want more. You want him. “I want to carry on.”

Jeongguk studies your demeanour, casting your body and expression a careful once-over, because he wants to feel you, be in you, wants to make you see stars. But it's only a matter of whether you're able to handle that right now. He has barely had his way with you, but you already look so fucked out, so perfect for him. It makes the blood rush straight to his dick. “You make me crazy.” He rasps, eyes locking with yours as he brings a hand up, tracing his thumb along your bottom lip.

You almost cower beneath his touch, beneath the sincerity of his gaze; appraising the very depths of your being as if you were a delicate treasure, as if he were staring at a god or something of a divine beauty.

Jeongguk thinks that maybe he is; thinks you’re the light, the one thing he’d worship morning, noon and night through blind faith. And there are barely enough words in the dictionary for him to express this notion to you, so instead he settles for “I love you.” Voice as rough as the high tides, but softer than moonlight.

He feels compelled to tell you this every chance he gets, a hopeless slave to his feelings for you. “Like I've never loved anything else in my life.” He continues. It's a quiet confession in the night, not a new one, but the words mean just as much as the first time he admitted them to you.

You feel yourself melt, can't remember ever feeling this cherished. Not since before Jeongguk and hopefully, never after. “I love you too.” You murmur, taking a moment to drink in every detail of the man who has left you restless all night.

Your eyes flicker over the defined cut of his jaw. The delicate curve of his lips and the pretty mole resting just beneath it. The small kissable scar on his cheek. The feathery flutter of his eyelashes. The strands of hair that have fallen over his face, and you retract your hand from his back to push them away.

How did you ever get this lucky?

“So much.” You emphasize and your voice thickens with the weight of your words, spoken from the very depths of your soul. “More than you could ever know.” Because there aren't enough words in the dictionary to get this notion across, so instead you lift your head, planting a firm kiss to Jeongguk’s lips as if sealing a vow, a promise of forever.

Jeongguk receives your kiss like he does with everything else related to you; openly, hungrily. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip—once—twice—and you instantly become pliant under his weight. Your fingers find his hair, tangling into the dark tresses as you deepen the kiss. It’s hot and it’s heavy, and in the distant part of your mind, you register that Jeongguk tastes like peaches, most likely from the alcohol he’s been drinking.

The sweetness of his lips immediately goes to your head; drunk and euphoric, and all grace flies out the window the next second. “Touch me,” You murmur breathlessly against his mouth, fingertips skimming over the nape of his neck. “Please, I need you.”

Jeongguk groans, a husky sound resonating from deep within his throat. “Fuck,” You can feel how rock hard he’s gotten, his erection pressing into your inner thigh and it's making you delirious with need. “I’ll give you anything you want.” Jeongguk rumbles, his mouth forming a wet, messy trek away from yours to embrace the flesh of your breasts.

You want to tell him that it's him, only him you want. Puppeteering your every move, body relinquishing itself to his touch. But you don't. You can't, not when Jeongguk's teeth leave scarlet marks across your chest that render you mute, words evaporating on your tongue like sacramental bread.

“My pretty baby,” He coos tenderly and you fight the urge to rut up against him. “Always so fucking ready for me.“ He praises, kisses traveling southward and it burns, searing, everywhere that Jeongguk touches you. You think you might erupt or shatter, and nothing less, if he doesn't meet you where you really need him to, your cunt begging to be satiated with his fingers, or his tongue, or his dick—anything.

A whimper escapes your lips, an embarrassing, desperate sound hanging in the thick air, as you glance down past your heaving breasts. You watch as Jeongguk abandons your boobs, planting a trail of kisses across the expanse of your stomach, your hip bones—takes the tiny little ribbon on your underwear between his teeth and tugs. The deliberate gesture causes your panty to rise up a bit, ever so slightly brushing against your clit in the process, and you bite down on your bottom lip, holding back an ungodly moan.

You can't take it anymore, all this teasing.

Jeongguk can read it on your face; sees it in the way you swiftly tilt your head back, eyes closed, brows scrunched together. He knows you like the back of his hand, which is how he gauges that you've fallen back into a place of submission—done with the tortuous foreplay, done with calling the shots, done with delaying the inevitable. You want him to fuck you, to use your body the same way you had used his mere minutes ago. And if his dick could get any harder at the thought, it would.

Jeongguk licks his lips, slips a finger into the curve of your waistband as he murmurs, “I’m gonna take this off now, okay?”

You nod your head, not daring to open your eyes to confront the image of Jeongguk's face a mere hair's breadth away from your cunt. It's too erotic. Too much. You feel him drag the thin garment down your legs, a string of arousal following suit, and suddenly feel self-conscious, attempting to close your legs to hide how shamefully wet you are.

But Jeongguk's not having any of that.

He carelessly chucks the lacy material to the side like it’s nothing but a rag, a nuisance, and then grips your inner thigh. “Don't you dare,” He grunts, using his grasp to keep your legs apart, lifting them upwards until your knees are bent to your chest and your ankles are resting over his shoulders, giving him the perfect view of your dripping cunt.

You barely have time to register the ticklish feeling of Jeongguk's breath fanning against your core before he dives straight in, licking a long stripe across your pussy, and your hips instinctively buck up. “Shit,” You mewl, rejoicing in the way his tongue traverses from your slit to your clit, lapping up every drop of arousal.

Jeongguk groans, a sound so low, stemming from the heart of his diaphragm, when he samples that first morsel of your leaking nectar. You taste like heaven, so sweet and unbearably wet, and all just for him.

“So fucking good,” He grumbles, mouth drinking you in. His tongue is unrelenting in its efforts to devour your pussy, and the overwhelming sensation of him slurping and sucking—of him eating you out like a connoisseur tasting the rarest of delicacies—causes frenzied pools of pleasure to ripple within the base of your belly.

He keeps at it, nose brushing against your clit as a byproduct, and after a few minutes the pure, unwavering rapture of Jeongguk's tongue becomes excruciating. A feeling so good, it’s almost too much. “Jeongguk,” You wail, heels digging into the couch as you try to back away from his mouth, but your boyfriend merely hooks his arms around your legs and pulls you closer. Holding you in place; unable to run or escape from the ruthless onslaught of his tongue, from the metal bite of his piercing brushing against your lower lips. “I can't,” You cry, writhing beneath his touch.

With his grip keeping you firmly anchored, Jeongguk brings one hand down to toy with your swollen clit, fingers moving in languid, clockwise motions. “You can,” He grunts thickly, tongue slipping between your folds and prodding deliciously at your hole. “I know you can, baby.” He mumbles in between fucking your drenched pussy with his fleshy muscle.

You shake your head frantically, eyes screwed shut, as you feel the waves of your second orgasm surfacing. “Not like this,” You beg, using your hands to reach down, fingers twisting into his fluffy hair as you desperately try to push him away. “Please, I want you in me.” A sob runs free, your walls pulsating around nothing because Jeongguk is taking his time with you, teasing your opening like he's got all night. But you don't. You're close, so fucking close, you can feel it in the tightening muscles of your pelvis, in the quivering of your legs.

But Jeongguk isn't giving you enough. He isn't giving you what you need. Your boyfriend, in all his hot glory, is taking you there with his tongue, swirling insufferably along your orifice—bringing you right up to the edge of the plank with an ocean of pleasure waiting just below your feet, but then he pulls you back. Drags you from the precipice before you can allow yourself to fall in, and it causes a frustrated whine to escape your lips. You need his cock deep inside, filling you up, pushing you off the ledge and into troubled waters. Your pussy throbs at the very thought. “Please Kook,” You find yourself beseeching for the second time. “I wanna cum with you in me.”

And any thread of composure Jeongguk has been holding on to up until that point, snaps at the pure neediness burrowed within your tone.

He looks up at you; lips glistening, eyes dilated—a mess of a man. But you don't look any better—or, if you were getting a glimpse of yourself through Jeongguk's point of view, never better—skin flushed, gleaming with a fine film of sweat, lips swollen from the way you've been biting them, and all at once, Jeongguk is overcome with the desire to give you everything you've ever wanted.

“Fuck, okay,” He curses, rising to his knees and you force your eyes open at the rough edge tainting his voice, at the overwhelming relief of getting what you wished for. “But it’s going to be a bit of a stretch, baby.” He says, not having prepped you fully. It's been a while since the two of you have had sex and, if he had it his way, he would have given you his fingers first, would have warmed and widened your lubricated walls, to ease the initial discomfort of him entering you.

But you look so pretty beneath him, so impatient, and—“I can handle it,” You mollify, voice a sweet concoction of sultry persuasion.

He nods in response, a curt motion, because if he thinks about how eager you're being, about how you're willing to take a little bit of the pain for the insurmountable pleasure, he might just come right there. Might just think of all the other ways you like to hurt; of the way you'd react if his palm made rough contact with your ass cheeks, or what would happen if he handcuffed you to his bedpost and stuffed you full with a vibrator and butt plug—if he fucked you tonight with no end in sight. He wonders if you'd cry, if you'd beg him for more or want him to stop, sopping and spent. More than that, he wants so badly to find out.

Jeongguk’s dark eyes find yours, their typical doe-eyed demeanour having turned hooded a long time ago. Yours are twinkling with anticipation, watching intently as he pulls his sweatpants down, letting them hang low beneath his buttocks. His cock immediately springs free, slapping against his stomach, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip at the sight.

“Come here,” Jeongguk's voice carries a jagged intonation, raw and untamed, and breaks through you like crashing waves. But when he makes a grab for your body, his hands are nothing but gentle, hoisting you up onto your knees and positioning you on all fours.

With your ass bared before him, face pressed into the cold faux leather of the couch, Jeongguk smooths a hand down your back, watches with satisfaction as your spine yields before his touch, and then he takes a hold of his dick. Doesn't even bother giving it a few preliminary pumps because he's already painfully hard, precum leaking from the tip as he lines himself with your hole.

He doesn't put it in though.

First, he teases your little cunt with only the head of his length, not fully embedding himself within your warmth just yet. You whimper pathetically at the testing prod, fingers balling into frustrated fists, while Jeongguk watches in awe as your entrance narrows, pleading to be stuffed.

“God, look at you.” Jeongguk groans, eyes traveling from your glistening pussy to the state of your overall servile form.

He places one hand on your hip, fingers digging into the skin there, as he inches just the slightest bit forward, his dick slowly pushing into you. Your mouth parts at the sensation and you shakily prop yourself up onto your elbows, head falling forward with a moan. “So fucking needy, huh.” He goads when you attempt to meet him in the middle, subtly backing up against his pelvis.

“No,” You shake your head as if it's some sort of lie, as if you haven't been thinking about this moment since you stepped over the doorsill of Jeongguk’s apartment earlier. And your boyfriend laughs—he actually laughs—a maniacal, derisive sound that rings in your ears.

“There's no need to deny it, baby.” He drawls like smooth liquor hitting the back of your throat, a silky succour that, for some reason, has you dumbly nodding along. Because Jeongguk’s entering you more now, his dick fighting against the tight restraint of your heat, and you're too distracted by the feeling of it to fully comprehend what he's saying.

“I mean,” He continues, reaching down between your legs to gather the wetness clinging to your folds before he bends over your back, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You’d think you've never been fucked a day in your life.” He murmurs, bringing his slick fingers to your level of sight.

You flush instantly, burning at the way your arousal dwells on Jeongguk's digits and forms a translucent web when he parts them into a V shape. “I can't help it,” You breathe shamefully, about to protest that it's his fault for letting you go so long without attention, for not taking care of your sexual needs and making you this susceptible to moments of depravity, when Jeongguk fully entrenches himself into your heat without so much as a warning.

“Aah,” Your jaw slackens at the sudden stretch of his length against your walls, the sensation so unfairly delicious you find yourself clenching around the intrusion with a gasp, and your boyfriend uses the opportunity to stuff his letch-laiden fingers into your mouth.

“Clean them.” He grunts, lazily rocking forward and you choke back a moan, mouth instantly closing around his fingers. Head full of clouds, pussy filled to the brim, you obey. Your tongue licks up the juices stuck to his slim digits, gliding sensually across each one with care, and you vaguely hear Jeongguk curse below his breath, hips grinding into your core. “Fuck, just like that, angel.” He praises, allowing you to suck them clean for a few more seconds before he pulls them from your lips altogether with a lewd pop.

“Such a good girl,” He murmurs lovingly, pressing a singular kiss to your shoulder blade before he straightens to his full height behind you. “Always so perfect for me.”

Jeongguk's hands find your ass again and he gives the supple flesh a few gentle squeezes, savouring the way you whine in response.

“Please,” Your words come out embarrassingly broken and wretched, heart hammering in your chest with want, as you peek at Jeongguk over your shoulder. “Please, no more teasing. Just fuck me.”

“What do you think I'm doing?” Jeongguk asks, eyebrow raised, voice harbouring a hue of cockiness. He withdraws his thick length from your warm embrace at an agonizingly slow rate before thrusting right back in, repeating the motion steadily. “I'm fucking you right now, aren't I?”

You want to cry, your need to come so severe, it's starting to physically hurt.

Your fingers leave deep indents in the couch as you tackle the burning coals of frustration setting every inch of your body on fire. “M-More,” You stammer, feeling a pearl of arousal trickle down your thigh. You're so turned on right now, your mind an empty haze as Jeongguk edges you into oblivion, cunt so wet, you can barely feel the brush of his shaft against your walls anymore. “I need more.”

Jeongguk grins, feels the crown of his cock brush against a particular soft spot, and then decides to give you what you want. Because he loves it when you beg, when you become a blubbering mess beneath him, so cock-hungry, you forget yourself.

Without a moment's pause, Jeongguk pounds into you with unbridled vigour. His hips slap against your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room, and your body jerks forward at the impact. Your core is so drenched he's able to enter you with little resistance now. Emitting a rough, throaty groan, he fixates on how your creamy arousal coats his cock, disappearing in and out of your cunt.

“F-Fuck,” You hiss, your hand reaching back to firmly grip Jeongguk’s wrist for support, but he takes advantage of your extended arm and yanks you up until your back is pressed to his chest.

The new position gives him better access to your front and Jeongguk ghosts a hand around your waist without a second thought, smooths it down your stomach until he reaches your clit. Your body jolts the instant his fingers make contact with the swollen bud, legs quivering with the strength it's taking you to stay upright.

Your boyfriend notices your struggle and hooks his other arm around your waist, his fingertips holding you so tightly you won't be surprised if some bruises appear there tomorrow.

“Fuck, I've missed this.” He rasps, more to himself than you, whilst drilling against your g-spot. But the words affect you just the same as your pussy tightens in response, squeezing him into a death grip, and Jeongguk's hips stutter. “Jesus,” He groans, making a mental effort to stave off his own orgasm, trying to focus solely on you.

You really are going to be the death of him.

He breathes heavily through his nostrils before starting up again, slowly driving into you and his cock burrows so deep, you swear you can feel it in your uterus.

His fingers skim over your clit, tracing the nub ever so slightly because you're starting to flinch from his touch, starting to grow sensitive. And when your head falls back against his shoulder, a choked whine forcing its way out your throat, Jeongguk knows that you're close.

“You gonna come for me?” Jeongguk's lips brush against your temple, his hand deserting your pussy in sympathy to knead your breasts instead. You feel his thumb run over your nipple, static lightning steamrolling across your skin with each sweep.

“I-ah!” You can barely form a coherent sentence, the inklings of even one lucid thought slipping from your empty, fucked out mind as Jeongguk slams into you. He's setting a brutal pace, the noise of skin-against-skin undeniably obscene, but you can hardly find the will to care when the muscles in your abdomen begin to tense. They twist up like a clockwork toy, winding and winding, until Jeongguk hits a particular spot that makes your toes curl, and then you're coming undone for the second time tonight, knees buckling with the sheer force of your orgasm.

It hits you like a freight train, your body spasming. White dots of euphoria blur your vision, the pleasure so blinding, and Jeongguk's hold around your midsection is the only reason you don't collapse right there onto the couch.

“That's it, baby.” He reveres, hips never ceasing their movements even as your walls contract sporadically, determined to fuck you through it. An uncannily pornstar moan spills from your lips, mind and body having finally plunged into the silvery, stormy torrents of your climax, and the strangled sound causes something impossibly primal to rupture within Jeongguk. It thrashes at his chest like a wild caged animal, demanding release, and he recognizes the feeling all too well.

“You're mine, right? ” He finds himself grunting, voice husky with strain. The hand that was attending to your boobs instinctively ascends to your throat, squeezing slightly as he chases his own high, gives in to that grueling streak of possessiveness that only every rears its head when he has you like this—naked and vulnerable—and you groan at the familiar pressure.

You hum, walls clenching around him. “Only yours.” Your own hand reaches up, cuffing around his wrist for support as a tremor runs down your spine.

Jeongguk feels his balls tighten, the knowledge that he’s the sole witness to this side of you, so subservient and docile, sets him off the deep end.

Then you angle your head to the side, joining your lips with his. It's a messy, sloppy kiss, but the intimacy of it all causes Jeongguk's last bit of composure to crack.

He spills into you with a groan, the sound muffled by your mouth, as he rocks forward until every last drop of his seed is snug within your warmth.

The feeling of his cum bursting inside of you, length twitching, causes your pussy to flutter by reflex, milking Jeongguk of every ounce of cum, only suspending their contractions once he's thoroughly depleted.

By the end, you're both a heaving mess; chests rising and falling in unison as you come down, the electric current pulsing through your bodies fading into a comfortable hum.

Your skin is still buzzing, head befuddled, when Jeongguk presses a few lazy kisses across your shoulder—as if to ground you, to bring you back from the constellations he's painted behind your eyes.

“You were so good, baby.” He commends, smoothing the hair at the side of your profile and you can't help the soft, but dopey smile that breaks out onto your face then.

“I've been dreaming about that for forever.” You murmur, submitting to the assault of his lips. Your boyfriend chuckles in return, nuzzling your neck as he commits the smell of your skin, an alluring scent of sex and lavender, to his memory.

“Me too,” He hums, thumb gliding gently across the contour of your waist. Your sensitive pussy throbs at the light touch, rousing from the stimulation; which only reminds you of the unpleasant remnants of arousal coating your inner thighs.

As if reading your mind, Jeongguk whispers against your skin. “Let's get you cleaned up, okay?”

He eyes your figure carefully, waiting for any hint of consent before he leaves you here alone.

You manage to muster a nod and then feel his dick slip from your entrance a second later, withdrawing in a way that makes you cringe and leaves you feeling oddly empty.

“I’ll be right back.” He assures, his lips quickly, but comfortingly, brushing against your hairline. Thereafter, from your peripheral, you see Jeongguk detach himself from your side, pulling his pants back up as he disappears into the bathroom to do what he does best—take care of you.

In the meantime, you resist the temptation to slump back onto the sofa, feeling a hefty load of cum leaking down your thighs. Every muscle in your body feels relaxed, those sparks from earlier sizzling down into sleepy, smoky remnants that weigh you down. Mind a dazed mess, not sure of how much time has passed, you almost give in—the slumber you so desperately sought out at the beginning of the night finally settling into your bones—when Jeongguk walks back into the living room. He's changed into a pair of briefs and is carrying a wet cloth, as well as, a small tube of ointment.

Your body instantly perks up, a little rejuvenated by his presence.

“Hey,” Jeongguk murmurs once he's back in your close vicinity, fingers brushing against your cheeks as he peers down at you with a soft smile.

“Hey,” You tiredly grin back, pointing a finger at the items in his hand. “Those for me?”

Jeongguk hums, draping an arm around your waist to steady you. If you had the energy to freshen yourself up, you honestly would but currently, you can barely keep your eyes open. So instead you lean on your boyfriend—figuratively and literally—clutching onto his biceps as he brings the warm cloth to your nether regions. You hiss a little at the contact, still feeling delicate down there, but Jeongguk handles you with a gentle mindfulness that makes your heart swell. Makes you think back to a little over an hour ago, when you were alone in bed unable to fall asleep because he wasn't there.

And sometimes it worries you. How much you need him. How much something as simple and basic as sleep, needs the warmth of his touch to make its mark on you. How much you’ve grown to love him in the span of a few months, your life endlessly orbiting around him like the earth to the sun. How much the deepest crevices of your soul, where the vile fear of abandonment and instinctual desire to run, relinquish themselves to the light of Jeongguk’s unconditional love.

You watch him toss the used washcloth to the side before unscrewing the top of the ointment. Sigh; as his fingers, tender with purpose, apply dabs of vitamin K salve to your hips where the marks from his fingertips are starting to surface. “Shit, I'm so sorry baby.” He apologizes, the raspy, hushed tone of his voice communicating how guilt-ridden he feels. “I didn't mean to be this rough.”

And, you've never known a love like this. One that rustles through your hair like the wind on the drive down to your parents. One that meets you in the dead of winter between classes, wrapped up in coats and scarves, and coffee as the snow falls. One that kisses you goodnight, hands cupping your cheeks while the street lamps flicker outside.

One that dresses all your bruises.

It makes you want to run in the opposite direction every now and then, fleeing until you forget that you ever knew it could be this good, this safe.

But, staring at Jeongguk and the careful, intricate way he's massaging ointment onto all your black-and-blues, you bury these trepidations away, laying them to rest in the one place they belong—the past.

Because yes, you’ve never had this sort of love before—the seriousness, the commitment.

The emptied-out drawers for your clothes.

The spare toothbrush at his place.

The conversations of a future together—the clear line being crossed from fling to forever.

Even though it's a concept so scary and unfamiliar, and foreign to you—you never want to let it go.

You never want to let him go.

3K notes · View notes

zooone · 1 month

Text

" OH, SATORU ?! "

in which ?! - gojo doesnt show up to an extremely important meeting, and you find him passed out on his desk. poor guy.

words ?! - 2.2k

warnings and content ?! - swearing, teacher!reader, gojo is pathetic, reader hates gojo in the beginning but she takes care of him after 🙂‍↕️

an ?! - someone said gojo wants to be a sugar baby cuz he just wants to be taken care of for once and i went insane. also requests r open so plz send some!!

masterlist ?!

satoru gojo,

satoru fucking gojo,

of course he wouldn't show up to the meeting that she was pestering him about for days. of course he wouldn't show up to the meeting that she stressed was probably the most important hour or two of his life. of course he would leave the seat next to her empty and completely embarrass her.

she made it extremely clear to him, even going so far as to make sure he didn't have any missions in that time slot. but even with the the reminders and the sticky notes she left on his desk, he still somehow managed to be a no-show.

"satoru, don't forget about the meeting in two days!"

"i'll be there, don't worry" a fucking lie now, "you gotta stop worrying so much."

her immediate thought was that he assumed the meeting was below him. that the almighty satoru gojo was just far too important for mandatory meetings. she was seething in her chair thinking of all the excuses satoru gojo could possibly make, and how she could argue about each and every one of them. throughout the meeting, she scribbled a few into her notebook, fingertips turning to a near white as she gripped her pen with such hatred.

and as she lurched herself through the door, bag nearly falling off her shoulders, she would stomp down the hallway. her fists clenched and her shoulders to her earlobes.

as she spotted his classroom, she noticed that his classroom's lights were still on. and a million other thoughts fueled her angered mind, making her eyebrows clench. he skipped on a crucial meeting just to hang out in his classroom?

clicks and clacks of her heels echoed throughout, and she hoped satoru could hear it as a warning.

satoru gojo, however, could not hear it,

as he was face down against his desk, drool dripping onto the wood. his blindfold was halfway off, making for a nice barrier between the hard desk and his forehead. a pen laid between his fingers, along with the papers under him.

"satoru! you're-" she yelled, before stumbling back a bit and covering her mouth. she gazed her eyes upon his sleeping figure (half surprised that he was a being who was able to sleep), and she sighed softly. "satoru?"

more clicks of her heels as she walked in front of his desk, examining the full scene. he was in the middle of lesson planning, his messy chicken scratch all over a spare piece of paper. he was practically the only one who could understand his notes. but he preferred it that way. it felt more personal.

although his snowy hair covered his face, she could see the tips of his ears as they were a slight reddish tone. and as if on instinct, she sighed out a soft, "oh satoru."

her eyebrows furrowed even more now, however not due to anger but due to pity. she frowned, looking around the room. crumpled up balls of paper scattered around the classroom, of course accompanied by unsharpened pencils and erasers with poked holes in them.

on satoru's desk was a small schedule or to-do list, and it looked like he had to report a million different missions. he's been on so many lately with the recent influx of curses, and it didn't register in her head how tiring it must've been. after all, satoru came to work everyday with a smile on his face and a joke on his lips. he was always so happy. this was a completely different side of him. it made her frown.

she decided she would help, starting with picking up miscellaneous items from the ground. her heels had been removed at this point in order to keep the noise to a minimum.

but the plan was ruined,

the moment she got up from practically crawling on the floor, her head clashed with a nearby desk. it caused a loud thud to echo around the classroom, followed by her faint "ouch."

"hey!" and satoru sprung his head up, blindfold covering one eye and spit running down his chin. his voice was raw and raspy. it had a sort of weak undertone. but weak and gojo couldn't possibly be in the same sentence. "hey - put - putit down - i got- it-"

he was delirious.

"satoru - oh - go back to sleep -" she spoke, voice adjacent to that of a mother. it had the tenderness yet urgency that reminded satoru of his youth.

"y- y'can't tell me what to do!" his mouth barely opened as he laid back in his chair with his head thrown back. a soft groan escaped his dry lips.

"satoru-" she got up, one hand holding the painful sting on her head, the other reaching out for the man in front of her. "gosh, you're burning up, satoru -"

"no - no 'm not - im fine -" he tried to swat her hand away with a weak gesture, but ultimately it failed. his eyelids felt like they were too heavy, even for the strongest sorcerer of the modern day. "'m not sick-"

"you are," the corners of her mouth bent downwards. "i think you're overworking yourself."

his ivory lashes fluttered open slightly, squinting at the sudden light that met his cerulean eyes. "no- 'm just fine -"

"how much sleep have you been getting?" now she really sounded like a mom.

"ten hours!" satoru whined, trying to put his blindfold back on. "heheh. just kiddin'."

"satoru-"

"free hours. maybe. sorta." even his chuckle was raspy. a good chug of water would feel like heaven to him. "six eyes 're tellin' me you're worried. i - i told'ya ta stop worrying-"

even through a delirious fever and a couple hours of sleep, he was the one trying to put the spotlight on her. it made a sinking feeling in her stomach, one that made her bottom lip stick out.

"three hours is not good, satoru. especially with your technique and all -"

"i've got rct-" he whined, his arm resting over his blindfolded eyes. his pen was still in his hand, and a mere twitch would cause it to hit the floor. "im not in highschool anymore, 's okay - im- the strongest-"

she didn't want to argue back at an incoherent satoru, so she just continued to pick up items from the ground. but satoru, even with his blindfold and arm over his eyes, noticed her doing so.

"h-hey - hey, stop-" he pouted, a small cough following. "don't do that-"

"im just trying to help you, satoru." she gently spoke, like she was hushing a child. there was dust and gunk all over her fingertips. he definitely hadn't cleaned up in a while.

satoru nervously chuckled, using weak and shaky hands to unbutton his uniform. "heh, is it hot in here or 're you just happy to - see me?"

"that's- not how it goes," she scrunched her eyebrows at him, watching as he struggled to fiddle with his buttons. "let me help you."

she expected him go start whining and arguing again, but he didn't. without words, he let her slowly take care of the buttons of his uniform. the silence could be pierced with one of the dull pencils on the ground. his body heat radiated onto her fingertips, making her palms slightly sweaty.

by now, his blindfold was loose and falling off his face, and she could catch a glimpse of his feverish grin through her peripherals. thankfully, he had a thin tank top on underneath his uniform.

her touch stayed gentle as she removed the sleeves, her nails grazing upon his biceps. his laugh was small and whimpery. "hey, that tickles."

"s-sorry," she stammered, gulping down a bit of her saliva. his arms were hard as a rock, even when he was relaxed, and it didn't help that his skin was burning hot. literally, and figuratively. she noticed some faint, almost translucent hairs on his arm.

"'s okay. its nice." he rasped, his head tilting slightly. "you're nice."

"thank you. i just want to help you." and his uniform top was finally off. he let out a groan as the colder air stung his searing skin, and she noticed his abs clenching underneath his thin tank top. "better now?"

"mhm," he responded, his delirious smirk turned into a toothy grin. "y'might get sick if - if you stay 'round me."

"that's okay." she let out a shallow breath. her top priority was him at the moment, so she wasn't thinking about the busy days ahead of her. "don't you have a spare room here?"

"the floor above." he wiped his lidded eyes, an idle pout still on his lips. she couldn't believe that the same man who always had color on his face and a honeyed voice was here now like this. she felt like she should've seen the signs coming. "i shouldn't sleep i have - i have to lesson plan -"

"you're going to sleep, satoru." she said sternly, yet with a soft edge to her tone. "c'mon, get up."

"ugh, don't t-tell me what ta do-" he groaned, but he still stood up. his tall figure wobbled as he felt his blood rush. his joints fell weak, like he wasn't supposed to be even standing up. he collapsed against her, body weight and heat pressing up against her.

she was strong, there was no denying how she fought during missions, but him falling onto her caught her off guard. he sandwiched her between himself and the chalkboard, exerting a yelp from her throat.

"woah, i got you -" she grunted, pushing him upright. "i got you, satoru."

"'m tired." was all he could muster from his lips. "so tired."

"i know, i know, its okay." she whispered. he was more straightened out now, but he still leaned slightly towards her. she put his arm around her shoulder to help him walk adequately. "we're gonna take you to your room, okay?"

he hummed a response, eyes drooping again. his feet were practically dragging behind them, but she was able to guide him properly through the hallway.

"careful, we're turning," she would warn everytime there was an abrupt shift in the hallway. and he would just groan softly to show that he was still alive.

by now, she was sweating. the exertion of his warm skin rubbing up against hers made such a friction, not to mention the fact that she was basically carrying the taller man. but it felt good. it felt right.

once they reached his room, she fumbled around his pockets to get his keys. he groaned low in his chest, almost sounding like a purrr, as he felt her touch through his pants.

she recognized the layout to be similar to the student dorms, and she was able to locate his bedroom easily. of course, not without examining his place. the walls were surprisingly bare for his colorful personality. the big fake plant in the corner was the only noticeable thing about the whole living room. however, it was too dim to see.

she set him down onto his bed (and of course, his sheets were blue) and laid his soft blanket on top of him. he looked like he went back to sleep within two seconds, but as she was halfway through his doorway, he heard him and his blanket stir.

“stay,” he whispered over the decently loud ac. but she could still hear the desperation in his voice.

“oh,” she turned around, seeing his blue eyes barely open from underneath snowy lashes. “i was gonna go back to your classroom to clean up more-”

“stay, please.”

she let out a shallow sigh through downturned lips. she stared at the strongest sorcerer as he scooted over in his bed, allowing her room to lay. her heart stung a little bit at the sight, the dryness in her throat just adding to the sensations she felt.

“i have spare clothes you can borrow,” he frowned, lazily gesturing to his large closet. “they’re comfy.”

it was clear he was trying to use anything to convince her to stay, despite him being worried about her health. even if it was selfishly, he just wanted her near.

a small smile laid on his chapped lips when she went into his closet, picking out a t-shirt of his and going into the bathroom. through the white door, he could hear her softly humming to herself, and it felt like a lullaby to his reddened ears.

his gaze softened when he saw her, despite the piercing bathroom light. she just looked so beautiful. he knew that, of course, he’s known ever since they first met. but when she had her hair up in a bun and his shirt draped over her shoulders, she looked like a goddess. he would’ve said so even without his feverish state. she was just so perfect to him.

she walked over to the other side of his bed, flopping herself down. she didn’t realize how much her muscles ached until her body met the soft mattress. all of their surroundings smelled like him, a minty sort of scent flooding her nose. he was about to doze off again, back flattened against his sheets, but she scooted over and hugged him. the blanket plus his body heat was enough to make her start sweating again, but she still wiggled up against him. her fingers were idly tracing shapes on his chest while she continued to hum.

“thank you,” he whispered, voice crackling so much she nearly missed his words. he snaked his large hand to her back, pulling her impossibly close. it felt so intimate that small tears began to prod behind his eyelids.

“you’re welcome, satoru.” she responded, her tone still gentle. “goodnight.”

8.9.24

masterlist ?!

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 3 months

Note

oooo drabe request okay

reader is at a family gathering and accidentally slips into a submissive headspace during dinner and calls wanda mommy. the rest is up to you

In Safe Hands

Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x sub!fem!reader

Summary: At a family gathering you have a slip of the tongue and that doesn't go over well with your mom.

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: Age gap relationship (W=34 R=23), Dom/sub dynamics(vague), subspace, R calls Wanda Mommy, R's mom has some emotionally abusive mannerisms/narcissistic, hurt/comfort, Wanda makes sure you're okay.

Authors notes: I don't think I ever would have thought of this prompt on my own, but I loved writing for this scenario.

You feel the warmth of your family's chatter enveloping you as you sit at the dinner table, the clinking of cutlery against plates creating a comforting rhythm. It's a typical family gathering, full of laughter and familiar faces. Your girlfriend Wanda, who your family knows well and has grown to love, sits beside you, her presence a grounding comfort.

As the conversation flows, you find yourself sinking into a cozy, relaxed state, lulled by the background noise and the comforting presence of Wanda. The world around you begins to blur slightly, your mind slipping into a subspace without you realizing it. Wanda's gentle touch on your hand anchors you further, a soft smile on her lips as she engages with your family.

In this serene haze, you lean closer to Wanda, her warmth and scent filling your senses. You feel safe, protected, and deeply loved. Without thinking, you murmur softly, "Mommy, can you pass the salt?"

Your face flushes as you realize what just slipped out of your mouth. The sound of silverware clinking against plates and the murmur of conversations come to a sudden halt. You look around the table, seeing wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Your mother’s gaze locks onto you, sharp and unforgiving.

"What was that?" she demands, her tone harsh and filled with a mix of confusion and anger.

You stammer, desperately searching for the right words. "I… it was a mistake. I didn't mean to…"

Wanda, sitting next to you, gently places her hand on yours under the table, a subtle gesture of support. You feel a mix of gratitude and mortification.

Your mother’s eyes narrow. "A mistake? That didn't sound like a mistake."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Mom, I’m sorry. It just slipped out. It’s... it's a private thing between Wanda and me."

The tension in the room is thick. Your family members look between you, Wanda, and your mother, uncertain of what to do or say. Your mother takes a deep breath, clearly trying to maintain her composure.

"We'll talk about this later," she says, her voice cold but more controlled. She turns back to her plate, signaling the end of the conversation for now, but you know this isn't over.

You squeeze Wanda's hand, silently thanking her for being there. The rest of the dinner feels like it drags on forever, each minute filled with the weight of what just happened.

As dinner finally concludes, you feel a mix of dread and inevitability wash over you. Your mother, still fuming, stands up and motions for you to follow her. The walk to your childhood bedroom is painfully familiar, yet today it feels more like a walk to the gallows. Each step echoes with the weight of what's to come.

Once inside the room, she closes the door firmly behind you. The familiar surroundings of your childhood—posters, trophies, and old books—do nothing to comfort you. If anything, they heighten your anxiety, reminding you of a time when things were simpler and less complicated.

Your mother turns to face you, her eyes blazing with anger. "What on earth were you thinking, calling Wanda that at the dinner table?" she snaps. "Do you have any idea how inappropriate that was? In front of the entire family?"

You swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts. "Mom, it was an accident. I didn't mean for it to happen. It just slipped out."

She shakes her head, disbelief etched across her features. "An accident? That was more than just a slip of the tongue. It was embarrassing for you, for me, and for everyone else there. How do you think your father felt hearing that? Or your grandparents?"

You feel a lump forming in your throat, the sting of her words hitting hard. "I’m sorry, Mom. I really am. It wasn’t intentional. It’s just... something private between Wanda and me."

"Private?" she scoffs. "There’s a time and a place for everything, and that was definitely not it. You need to understand the impact of your actions. What if people start talking? What if this gets out beyond the family?"

You wince at the thought. "I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful."

Your mother takes a deep breath, her anger slowly giving way to a look of disappointment. "I just expected better from you. I thought I raised you to know better than to do something like this. What happened to you?"

Her words cut deep, and you can feel tears welling up. "Mom, I’m still the same person. I just made a mistake. Please understand."

She sighs, rubbing her temples. "We’ll talk more about this another time. I need to cool down. Just... think about what you've done and how you’re going to fix it."

As she leaves the room, you collapse onto your old bed, the weight of the confrontation settling heavily on your shoulders. Wanda's presence downstairs is a small comfort, but right now, you feel utterly alone in this moment of reckoning.

Laying on your old bed, feeling the echoes of childhood and the sting of your mother's words, you hear a soft knock on the door. Wanda enters, a reassuring presence amid the storm. She carries both your coats, signaling her readiness to leave if you need to, but instead of urging you out the door, she sits beside you and begins to gently rub your back.

"You don't owe them anything, Detka," she whispers, her voice a soothing balm. "Look at me, sweet girl."

You turn to her, as you always do, feeling the comfort of her gaze. You’ve always been so good for Wanda, and her steady presence is a lifeline right now. She takes your hand in hers, her touch grounding you.

"It was an accident," she continues, her tone firm yet loving. "You got a bit overwhelmed and slipped, and it's okay. While you talked with your mom, I smoothed things over with everyone else. I told them about a time when I asked you not to do something and you replied with, 'okay, mom,' and since then, there have been moments where we joke and you say something like that to me."

Tears prick at your eyes, welling up at the corners as you look at Wanda, overwhelmed by her kindness and her instinct to protect you. Her unwavering support wraps around you like a comforting blanket, making the harshness of your mother’s words fade into the background.

"You did that for me?" you whisper, voice thick with emotion.

Wanda nods, her eyes soft and understanding. "Of course I did. I always will. We’ll get through this together, alright?"

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude. Leaning into her, you let the tears fall, knowing she’s there to catch you. She holds you close, her hand continuing its soothing motion on your back.

"Let’s get out of here for a bit," Wanda suggests gently. "We can take a walk, get some fresh air. You need a break from all this."

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight lift slightly. "Okay," you agree, your voice small but steadier now.

With Wanda by your side, you know you’ll face whatever comes next, together. As you stand and slip on your coat, you give her hand a grateful squeeze. She smiles, and for the first time since the dinner incident, you feel a glimmer of hope.

#ley answers anons #ley writes #ley writes requests #ley writes drabbles #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff #mommy!wanda #mommy!wanda maximoff #sub!fem!reader #sub!reader

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boothillssugarmomma · 4 months

Text

Steel Here

(Boothill x Fem!Reader)

cw-: Body dysmorphia, slight talks of hating themself, other than that fluff fluff

🎀 authorsnote: Rn I'm feeling like my body isn't great so I used this fic to sort of get it out! And it actually felt great!

please don't steal my work!

Taglist🎀HSR Master List🎀Other Lists🎀

Boothill’s quietly sitting in his room that you begged him to have on The Astral Express. As his girlfriend you've been trying to get him to stay around more and he adores it.

But it also gives him more time to really think...and he doesn't know if he likes that part.

Ok...he hates it. He hates that fact that he has to see himself when he passes a mirror, he hates it when he feels his cool steel against his face, he hates how he can't feel your hugs...

Boothill stands and looks in the mirror, flexing his mechanical arms softly and glancing over his fake abs. He shakes his left metal leg and sighs.

He hears the small mechanical noise of his bedroom door and looks over to it. He smiles softly as he sees you.

“Hey sweet thang...” He shoots you a warm smirk, trying to cover up what he was doing as he quickly sits on his bed. You glance over at the mirror and back to him. Piecing it in your mind what exactly he was doing. “What do ya need hon...?”

You're silent as he asks. No response as you just blink. Your eyes communicate to him that you want him to tell you what you saw.

Your boyfriend sighs a little. Placing his head in his hands and closing his eyes.

“Don't gimme that look...” He breathes, obviously frustrated as he looks back up at you, “Fine...I'm startin' to wish I was me again...I don't want this body anymor'.”

"Oh honey..." You whisper softly as you sit next to him on the bed. You place a hand on his back but remember he won't even be able to feel it...

“See...now would ya look at that...?” Boothills voice drawls, he places a hand on your thigh and sighs as you shiver at the cold metal. “I...guess this is ma' life now..." He scoffs softly. "Can't even curse...it's all 'muddle fudger' this and 'fork that' and 'son of a nice lady'..."

"Boothill sweetheart..." You whisper as you lean against him. "Don't say that..."

Boothill hesitates on resting his temple against your head, he doesn’t need his body reminding him that part of his ridiculous body is only metal.

But he doesn’t know what else to do to comfort himself. He’s frustrated to the moon and back, frustrated at being in this body he doesn’t want.

“I don’t think you understand, darlin’” Boothill whispers. “I miss the me I once was. I just… don’t feel quite like myself anymore…”

"You're still...my Boothill..." You pull away gently and grasp his cheek.

The corner of his lips quirk upwards at your words, but the warm touch and caress of your hand on his cheek still doesn’t feel the same. He wishes of his could feel the same kind of texture he once thrived from and took for granted in his human skin...not just his face.

It’s almost...cold to him.

“You’re the only one who can remind me of the old me that’s still lyin’ somewhere underneath this piece’o’junk body.” He murmurs.

"It's not a piece'o'junk..." You imitate him with a smile. "Boothill... you're amazing just the way you are..."

There you go smiling. If there’s anything that’s capable of changing his mood for the better, it’s you.

Boothill gives you a chuckle. “Look who’s sweet talkin’ who now,” his voice is a bit more lighthearted than previously. “You’ve gotta stop bein’ like this darlin’. You’re gonna make me blush.”

You smile softly and kiss his cheek. "Honey...look at me..." You take his face in your hands. "I love you..."

Boothill smiles, feeling your lips press against his cheek. His hands find their way to your wrists, gently caressing them and wishing he could feel your skin. He knows it's definitely a lot warmer than the cold of his steel.

“You’re a real charmer, y’know that?” He says, his voice low and amused. “I don’t reckon I can look anywhere else when ya say things like that.”

"Now...how can we make you feel better?" You hum softly in his ear.

“You have no idea how bad I want that...” Boothill replies with a grin. He pulls your face closer to his and whispers into your ear. “But you’ve got to keep those sweet words of yours comin’.” Boothill’s voice is low and seductive. “I’m starvin’ here, darlin’.”

"Pamper Queen tonight aren't we?" You laugh, placing your hand on his chest.

“Only for my darlin’.” He teases, placing a hand over yours and gently rubbing his thumb against your skin. Boothill’s other hand caresses your cheek. “Let’s be frank; you’ve gotten me spoiled rotten, and I ain’t mad about it.”

Your face contorts into a look of pure thought. "Here...since you give me massages sometimes..." You get up and walk over to his closet.

Boothill’s curious as his gaze follow your movements, hands resting on the arm rest. He wonders if you’re looking for something specific.

“Whatcha lookin’ for, darlin’?” He asks, tilting his head to rest his cheek on his metal palm, fingers pressed against his chin.

"How about we polish your metal?" You pull out some wax and a waxing machine.

Boothill’s expression changes into something resembling a mix of disbelief and shock, then into amusement as he bursts into laughter. He had an expectation for what you were going to do, but this wasn’t it.

“Is that a euphemism for something I’m not gettin’?" He jokes, his laughter trailing into a playful smirk as he watches you closely.

"Well...I don't know the equivalent of a massage for cyborgs!" You whine playfully.

Boothill chuckles as he playfully rolls his eyes at you. “Oh, I’m certain a few people out there would call this ‘metal maintenance’ or something.”

He then rises to his feet. “And I wouldn’t mind havin’ ya give me a good ol’ metal maintenance, darlin’. But I hope you know I’m ticklish in some spots.”

"How are you ticklish..." You murmur and plug it into the wall.

Boothill chuckles again, crossing his arms as he gazes down at the metal machine in your hands. “I’m ticklish ‘round my neck and behind my knee, believe it or not. I ain’t kiddin’.”

He walks over to you and stands before you, a grin spreading on his face. “I’ve got a feelin’ you’re gonna use this as a weapon against me, aren’t ya?”

"Phantom tickles on the knee I guess..." You hum and fire it up. "And it's NOT a weapon..."

“Aww, shoot… and here I was, thinkin’ you’d give me a break.” He quips, shrugging his shoulder and letting out a small chuckle.

In truth, Boothill is a little excited for you to polish him. “How are you at polishin’ machines, darlin’? Cause it ain’t gonna be clean if you don’t know what you’re doin’...” He teases as he glances at the polishing machine, then back at you.

You hesitate and cough. "I'm...great?" You quickly get to work before he can question anything.

Boothill raises a brow as he eyes you with a small, amused smirk. He has a feeling you're definitely not good with these machines.

“I’m sure ya are.” He teases, a small, playful chuckle falling from his lips.

While Boothill initially stands still, he can’t help but feel a little ticklish as he can feel the machine polish the outer surface of his thigh. “Careful with that…”

You giggle softly as you keep polishing his metal body. You slide up to his neck and carefully polish it.

A soft, amused chuckle leaves Boothill as he can’t help it. Your gentle polish on his neck is a little ticklish, which causes him to tense up from the sensation. He’d definitely describe it as ticklishness. He rests a hand on the back of your head as you polish his neck, caressing the underside of his fingers against your skin.

“Oh, what a sight to see. I’ve got my pretty lady polishin’ me to perfection.” He teases.

"D-Don't distract me or I'll move!" You whine.

“Distract you?” Boothill murmurs, his lips tilting into a small smirk. “I’m just complimentin' you.”

He gently moves your chin with a finger, guiding it to meet his gaze as he gazes down at you. “And don’t move. I like the way your beautiful eyes look when you’re focused on me.” A tease disguised as a compliment.

You freeze as your heart pounds in your chest...which was not the best move because the polisher slides right off him and shoots at the wall.

A small gasp leaves Boothill when he watches the polisher slide off him. But then he bursts into a hearty chuckle, his hands resting on his waist. His eyes are closed while he laughs, and when he’s done, he glances at the wall where the polisher’s been launched into.

“That wall didn’t do nothin’ to deserve that, darlin’...“ He teases through stifled giggles.

"Y-Yeah well...you distracted me!" You whine before sitting in his lap.

Boothill pulls you onto his lap and rests his chin on your shoulder, his arms naturally wrapping around your waist. As you lean against him, he can see the machine embedded into the wall from the corner of his eye. He shakes his head and laughs again.

“You’re a feisty one, aren’t ya?” He teases, nuzzling his face to the crook of your neck and trailing his lips against your skin.

"It's not like I did it on purpose..." You mutter into his hair.

Boothill lets out another chuckle, feeling the warmth of your breath against his head. “I know you didn’t.” He murmurs, letting out a low sigh that’s a mix of contentment and relief.

He gently presses his cheek to the top of your head, his fingers gently rubbing your waist. “I’m just teasin’ ya, darlin’. You wouldn’t hurt a fly. ‘Sides, look at the bright side.” He adds. “At least the machine didn’t land on my toes.”

"You don't even have toes!" You blink and roll your eyes.

Boothill’s expression turns into a grin as he laughs, pulling you closer to him. “See? Told ya you’re the feisty one.” He teases, tilting his head to kiss your temple. He places another kiss on the top of your head, savoring the feeling of your warmth against his.

“Maybe I don’t have toes.” He begins, placing another kiss on your cheek. “But this body’s got everything else ya need.”

"See that's my Boothill..." You smile warmly. "Don't think of yourself the way you were before...and if you do...let me know?" You whisper.

As he hears your words, a soft smile forms on Boothill's face. He places a hand on your cheek, gently stroking the side of your face as his other rests on your waist.

His eyes look deep into yours with affection, and a corner of his lips quirks upwards. “That's a mighty good offer ya’re givin’ me here, darlin’. But I’d rather you stop me from thinkin’ like that before I could.”

"Now that is a better plan..." You smile before leaning in to kiss him.

Boothill’s eyes flutter to a close as your lips press against his, a warm fluttering feeling erupting in his chest. The kiss is slow and tender, and he melts against your touch as he pulls you a little closer and into his embrace.

Once the kiss ends, Boothill opens his eyes and sighs, feeling calmer and a lot more pleasant than before.

“You’re way too good for this broken ol’ geezer.” He whispers affectionately.

"Boothill...honey... you're not even old!" You laugh softly and nuzzle against him.

Boothill lets out a low chuckle, his hand gently caressing your skin as he leans into your touch. "You sure about that, darlin'? I feel like a relic with all this metal on me."

He glances down at his metallic hand, flexing his fingers. Then, he looks back at you with a smile. “But as long as you’re tellin’ me otherwise, I guess I ain’t.”

"That's what I thought~" You press a kiss to his forehead.

A smirk spreads on Boothill’s face as he watches you kiss his forehead. He lifts a hand and gently caresses your face, his thumb rubbing your skin.

“Ain’t you a precious one?” He muses, his grin widening as he gazes at you. “I reckon I ain’t that old after all.” He adds, his teasing tone laced with an affectionate edge. “What gives you the right to be so adorable?”

"I'm your girlfriend, it's my job!" You smile warmly.

Once again, Boothill’s gaze falls into yours, and he feels a flutter in his chest at your words. He rests a hand on your waist, caressing your skin with the back of his cold metal fingers.

“You’re right,” he murmurs, a warm smile spreading on his face as he nods. His eyes lock with yours, and he lifts a hand to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“And I reckon you’re doin’ a real good job at it, darlin’...” He adds, his voice low, warm and affectionate.

"Y'know... I'm always going to be here..." You smile. "Hey, hey!" You start to giggle. "I'm 'steel' here..." You joke.

Boothill lets out a loud laugh, shaking his head as you throw in a joke. He takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours, lifting it to his lips and planting a kiss on your knuckles.

“You’re real clever,” he murmurs, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his smile grows wider. In all honesty, he appreciates the effort you’re putting into cheering him up.

“Ain’t a doubt in me that you’d always be here for me, darlin’.”

You kiss him one more time. This time more passionate and love infused. As you pull away you smile. "I'll always...be here..."

The unexpected passion in your kiss catches Boothill off guard and leaves him breathless. As you pull away, he lets out a low gasp, his grip on your hand tightening just a little.

When you declare your promise, he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he lets the moment sink in. He feels a wave of warmth wash over him, and he whispers back.

“I’ll be here for you, too, darlin’...”

🎀End🎀

#fanfic #honkai star rail #honkai sr #honkai star rail smut #hsr #boothill x reader #boothill hsr #boothill #boothill smut #new writer boost #new writers on tumblr #honkai fanfic

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lvndosnorris · 4 months

Note

Hi I love ur work I was thinking about how lando would be such a jealous little shit when readers talking with the drivers and take her home just to edge her the whole night and smirk at her the whole time

lando was usually pretty good at concealing his jealousy, often finding ways to preoccupy his mind whenever he saw you giggling away with someone who wasn't him. he'd marvel in the way that you were always so effortlessly contagious, happiness radiating from you — it'd be silly to think people wouldn't be attracted to that, he'd always remind himself. after all it was him that got to take you home.

yet the event had been going on for far too long and you were minutes away from getting you and oscar another drink. lando had been watching from afar, careful to not make it too obvious as you hung your head back and slapped your thigh almost comedically. if it were anyone else, anyone but oscar, he would have dragged you from the booth already and made some lame excuse to take you home — but instead he stood there, leaning against the bar as he pressed his lips to the rim of his glass and swallowed the last bit of whatever drink had been passed his way.

"you think you're so funny don't you sweetheart?" his words were quiet but held the authority that made your skin tingle, your feet quick to keep up with him as you weaved yourselves through the crowds of people. you knew what was happening as soon as lando appeared, pouting playfully before telling oscar you'd see him around. you were pushing all the right buttons, lando's jealousy worn proudly on his face as he ushered you into the back of the taxi.

and usually the both of you would keep yourselves away from prying eye's. but there was no going back as his fingers traced the hem of your dress, the pad of his finger rough against your skin as he cooed, "is this what you wanted, hm? wanted my attention?"

he could have slipped his fingers right under your dress and had them curl inside of you right there and then. the bubbling desire hot in your stomach as you tried so hard to keep yourself under control, lando's breath hot against your neck as he grazed the curve of your shoulder with his teeth.

you could have sworn you entered heaven the minute the front door was closed, lando's hands callous as they hiked your dress up and had you pressed against the hallway wall. he wasn't going to give it to you easy, and you knew that — whining as you pleaded with him, desperately begging for him to make you feel good. not that you deserved it, obviously.

"does he make you feel this good?" and he could of been anyone that lando had gotten jealous over, his thumb pressing harshly against your clit. the manner of how he rubbed it being one that was brutal, the pit of your stomach ignited as you held onto the doorframe for support. it was disgusting how quick your legs started shaking, lando's name falling from your tongue over and over in a filthy mantra — and then he just stopped.

dragged his hand from between your legs with a shit eating smirk on his face, his thumb suckled in his mouth as he groaned. your pouts and stammers would be pathetic as you followed him through to the bedroom, kicking your shoes off in the process as you splayed your palms across his back and fisted the ironed material of his shirt, "baby, please, i was just messing!"

and you were repeating those words when you were sprawled on the bed, lando's thigh keeping your legs parted as you bucked yourself against the muscle in hopes to find some sort of friction. a low laugh emitting from him as he tutted, pinning your waist down as he mocked your noises whilst peppering hot, messy kisses between the valley of your tits.

his tongue relenting as it swiped over your skin, leaving a sticky trail of saliva as he felt you writhe and push up against him. only giving into you when you swore you'd never do it again — his belt loosened as he stared at you from above, his trousers slack on his waist as he pushed them down just enough to free his already hardened cock. he'd be lying if he said this wasn't turning him on, the thought of you being his and nobody else's sending blood straight to where he craved you most.

the stretch to accommodate lando was always one that had you wincing. no matter how many times you promised you could take him your reaction would say otherwise; mouth drawn into a circle as he teased your with not much more than his tip. you bucked once more, mewling for him to fill you properly; only for lando to pull back, slipping the tip of his cock to your clit and back down again, hissing to himself at the sensitivity.

and he repeated that, over and over again, only pushing a mere inch or two inside of you before leaving you feeling empty. the heat that surged through your limbs making you moan out in frustration, fingernails gripping his bicep as you'd glare at him, neediness evident in your expression as you watched him have his fun with you.

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valerie-is-in-the-cupboard · 27 days

Text

How the tables have turned - Lucifer x fem!reader x Adam

Hello! I had a few ideas involving Lucifer and this one is one of them. But also, prepare for a bit of Lucifer spam this week because this man is angst fuel (and you know how much I love writing angst). I promise I will return with some Alastor posts too after these few ones with Lucifer (and I also have a request I am currently working on). Hope you will like it <3 Words: ~2700 TW: angst

"Do you still love her?" you asked, your voice nothing more than a whisper, as you lay on your knees. Things with Lucifer haven't been so smooth lately, and your realisation that he still had feelings for his Lilith is slowly killing you from inside, despite your best efforts to hide it.

He stood in front of you, pinching the bridge of his nose while a deep sigh escaped him. He paused for a moment, debating on the right words to say. His shoulders slumped as he spoke, his voice filled with a mixture of defensiveness and guilt. "Of course. She was my wife, wasn't she?" He looked away, his eyes flickering as he avoided eye contact with you. There was a part of him that still longed for Lilith, a lingering ember of their past still burning within his chest.

You stared at the ring on your finger, the gold now feeling like a shackle rather than a symbol of eternal love. Doubts gnawed at you—was this really a promise of forever, or just a placeholder until Lilith decided to return? The thought twisted your heart, making you question everything you thought you knew about your marriage.

"But... You're married to me..."

He turned back to you, a pang of guilt stabbing at his heart as he saw the tears welling up in your eyes. He cursed himself silently for causing you pain, even If his feelings for Lilith were complicated.

"I know," he said softly, his voice filled with a mix of defensiveness and resignation. "But it's not that easy. We have a long history..."

"She left you... You and Charlie were out here struggling and she didn't give a fuck..." you spat at him.

His eyes narrowed slightly as you called him out. The mention of Charlie hit a sore spot, and he bristled at the mention of his daughter's struggles.

"You don't understand!" he snapped back, his voice rising in frustration. "She may have left, but the memories and emotions don't just disappear! You think I don't know about Charlie? I care about her more than anything else in this world."

"Then why the fuck are you doing this to me? Why couldn't you just deal with it and leave me out of this?" He let out a frustrated sigh, his grip on himself slipping a bit. He ran a hand through his hair, his expression shifting from defensiveness to resignation.

"It's not that simple," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "I never intended for this to happen... I thought I could move on, that my feelings for Lilith wouldn't still linger. But I was wrong. I never meant to hurt you, believe me." You got up, slowly making your way to the door. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

"No, wait," he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. "Please, don't go. We need to talk about this."

"I just want to go for a walk..." He watched as you pulled your arm away, frustration building up inside of him. He knew he couldn't force you to stay, but the thought of you walking out on him was almost too much to bear.

"Fine," he retorted, his voice coming out harsher than he intended. "Go ahead, take your walk. But this isn't over. We still need to figure this out."

You walked past him, slowly disappearing into the crowd of Pentagram City. Your mind was racing, as you erratically passed from one street to the other.

Eventually, you found yourself on a worn bench, its cold metal biting through your clothes as you tried to steady your breathing. The chaotic noise of Pentagram City buzzed around you, a harsh reminder that you were just one more lost soul in this damned place. You felt like a cruel joke, a stand-in until the real queen returned to claim her throne. Closing your eyes, you exhaled shakily, fighting the tears that threatened to spill.

"Rough day?" you jumped when you heard the sudden voice next to you. You looked up, being met with the mask of an exorcist, your eyes widening in fear.

Adam burst out in laughter seeing you so terrified. "Whoa there, honey. Take a few deep breaths. It's just little old me."

You knew everything that happened between Lucifer and Adam in the past, but somehow, despite you being married to his biggest enemy, Adam never seemed to have a personal problem with you. Yes, he treated you like shit just like he did with everyone else, but that was all.

"What... How did you find me?" you asked confused and he pointed at Heaven Embassy which was just a few meters away. You haven't even realised you were so close to it. You scoffed, your gaze returning to the ground as you tried to even your breath.

"Well, sweetheart, you're not exactly being stealthy, walking around in a huff like that. I just happened to spot you from up there and got curious. So, what got you all worked up? Bad day at work? Or is it something more, like maybe a little lover's quarrel?"

"It's none of your business, Adam..." you harshly said, a tear rolling down your cheek.

"Hey, now, I may be a lot of things: awesome, great, a sex master..." he replied, his tone a mix of banter and genuine compassion, "but I'm not heartless. You're clearly upset about something, and whether you want to admit it or not, I can tell it's not just some little disagreement. C'mon, spill the beans."

"Lucifer... he still loves Lilith... and I don't know how to deal with it..." you admitted, your eyes never leaving the shiny ring on your finger.

Adam's expression darkened at your words, his cocky attitude faltering for a moment. He clenched his jaw, a mix of anger and bitterness flooding his mind as old memories came back to him. He leaned back, a coldness in his eyes as he spoke.

"Ah, of course. It's always about those two, isn't it? Some things never change..." He paused briefly, his mind clearly elsewhere before shifting his gaze back to you. "I happen to know how it feels when your spouse clearly has feelings for... someone else..."

"Yeah… I'm sorry for what happened to you…" you said softly as you heard the pain in his voice.

Adam's expression softened slightly at your empathetic words. He let out a heavy sigh, staring into the distance for a moment before responding. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart. I've had my own fair share of heartbreaks, trust me. But it's not your fault." He shifted his position on the bench, focusing his gaze on you once more. "You love Lucifer, don't you?"

You were taken aback by his question, but, to your surprise, the answer didn't come as fast as it used to. "I... I do..." you hesitated.

He leaned closer, his expression curious and intrigued. "But... you sound unsure. Love's not supposed to have doubts, darling. Especially when you're literally wearing his ring on your finger." he pointed at it, his finger briefly touching yours.

"What's the point?" You sighed. "It doesn't matter what I do... I took care of him... I was there for Charlie when she actually needed her mother that was nowhere to be seen... And still, I am not enough for him."

Adam raised an eyebrow, hearing the frustration and disappointment in your voice. He leaned back, contemplating your words for a moment, before speaking again. "Let me tell you, darling, that's a sentiment I'm all too familiar with. But let me ask you this..." He paused, his eyes locking on yours. "Do you really want to be with someone who doesn't see your worth? Who doesn't appreciate everything you've done for them?"

You looked at him confused, taken aback by his words. "I..." you started, trying to find your words. "And what should I do? I have nowhere to go apart from Charlie's hotel and I really don't want to involve her in this..."

Adam studied your face intently, sensing the conflict and uncertainty in your emotions. He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "You see, the problem seems to lie in the fact that you're feeling trapped. You feel like you have nowhere else to go like you're forced to stay with someone who takes you for granted." He paused, mulling over his own thoughts before continuing. "But let me ask you this... How would you feel if you weren't tied down to Lucifer? If you were... free?"

You thought for a moment, letting his words sink in. "I guess I would... leave." you finally admitted, sure of your words.

Adam nodded, a smug grin forming on his face. "There ya go. Good girl. Now, you understand what needs to be done, don't you?" He leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head, crossing one leg over the other. "Now, here's the fun part. Say you leave Lucifer, where are you gonna go? Heaven? Pfft, like they'd let you in."

You scoffed. "You don't make any sense..."

Adam chuckled, clearly amused by your confusion. "Oh, but I do. You don't really have a lot of options, now do you? Sure, your lovely Charlie's hotel is there, but you don't want to burden her with all this, right? And Heaven? They won't even open the gates for you. So, you see, you're in a bit of a bind." He leaned in closer, a sly smirk on his face. "But hey, guess who's got the solution for ya?"

"What... What are you suggesting?" you asked, your eyebrows narrowing in confusion.

Adam leaned back again, enjoying your reaction to his words. "Oh, it's simple, sweetheart. If you leave Lucifer, you're gonna need a new place to call home, right? A place where you're wanted and appreciated." He paused, studying your reactions before dropping the bomb. "What if you come with me?"

"What?!" You snapped. "I've heard how you treated Eve and Lilith! Like they were nothing to you! You think I want this?"

Adam's smirk faltered a bit at your outburst, his ego slightly bruised. He raised an eyebrow, a mix of defensiveness and irritation on his face. "And who told you all this stuff, hmm?" he retorted, leaning forward, his tone a bit defensive. "Sure, I might've had my moments, but I don't know where you're getting this 'treating them like nothing' nonsense. They were my wives, after all."

"Well, Lucifer said-" you began, only to be cut off by him.

"Oh, big surprise, Lucifer said that, huh? I suppose he's a reliable source of information, isn't he? The Fallen Angel himself, just feeding you all the truth out of the kindness of his heart." The sarcasm in his voice was thick as he rolled his eyes. "Tell me, darling, do you really think he's got your best interests at heart? Do you really think he won't throw you out the door as soon as Lilith steps back into the picture?"

"I..." Adam saw the uncertainty in your face, a flicker of doubt in your eyes. He leaned closer, sensing that he struck a nerve. "That's right, sweetheart. You're not sure, are ya? You've been second-guessing yourself, questioning where you stand with Lucifer. But deep down, you know the truth. You know that you're not his number one priority, that he's still hung up on Lilith." He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "And that's why you're sitting here, feeling lost and alone, right?"

You turned your back on him. You knew he was right... But running away with him? It felt a bit too much. "I could never leave Charlie… She needs me…" you whispered, the weight of your responsibilities pulling you back from the edge. Adam huffed, the flicker of annoyance crossing his face briefly before he masked it. He reached out, his grip firm but not forceful, turning you to face him again, the intensity in his eyes impossible to ignore.

"You're telling me you're willing to put up with Lucifer's bullshit just because of Charlie? You really think she'd want you to suffer like that?" He paused, his grip on your arm tightened slightly. "Come with me, sweetheart. I'll treat you better than Lucifer ever did."

You fidgeted with your ring, considering his words carefully. "Are you really going to bring me, a sinner, to Heaven, just for this?" you whispered, a bit unsure of his words.

A sly grin formed on Adam's face as you asked your question. "Oh, darling, I've got a little trick up my sleeve for that. You see, I have a direct line to the big boss himself, so to speak." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I can pull a few strings, arrange things so that... well, let's just say that you could have a special little place in Heaven, all to yourself." He smirked. "Besides... you do miss your family, don't you?"

Your eyes opened wide, as your heart skipped a bit. "My family...? Are they there? You know them?" you desperately asked.

Adam chuckled, clearly enjoying the effect his words were having on you. "Oh, I know them alright. And they're all up there in Heaven, enjoying the celestial life." He leaned back, a satisfied smile on his face. "See, baby, I told you I could make that happen for you. A place in Heaven, all your loved ones around you... and a husband who'll actually treat you right. Sounds pretty good, doesn't it?"

You sighed, thinking about it. But he was right. There was no point in staying just so you could be a replacement. You looked up at him, determination hinted in your eyes. "I need proof... Show me that they're actually there and I'll come with you."

Adam's smirk widened a spark of excitement in his eyes. He knew he had you now. "Smart girl," he said with a nod. "You want proof, I can give you proof." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper once more. "But before we do this, I need one thing from you..."

"What is it?" you asked, suddenly feeling so vulnerable in front of him. He looked down at your finger, tracing the line of the golden ring.

"I need you to give me something... something that shows you're serious about leaving Lucifer behind." He paused, his eyes meeting yours, a hint of playful challenge in his expression. "Take the ring off."

You hesitated, the cool metal of the ring digging into your skin as a tear slipped down your cheek. This small circle of gold had once been a symbol of hope, but now it felt like a lie. With trembling fingers, you slid it off, feeling a pang of loss as you handed it to Adam, knowing this was the first real step towards a future you couldn't yet see.

"That's a good girl," he praised, eyeing the ring in his palm, "now we're getting somewhere." He stood up, offering his hand to you. "Let's go, sweetheart. Time to show you what you really deserve."

Lucifer paced back and forth in the living room, Charlie watching him silently, worry filling her more and more with every moment.

"Dad, I need you to tell me why she left... Did you have a fight again?" she asked. He stopped pacing for a moment, sighing deeply as he looked at his daughter. There was no point in hiding the truth from her anymore.

"Yes," he admitted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "We had another fight. And it was mostly about... your mother."

When Charlie was about to speak, a knock on the door interrupted them. Lucifer ran towards it, hoping it might be you, but just as he opened the door he froze. He slowly picked something off the floor, silence filling the room.

"Dad, are you ok?" Charlie asked. "Who is it?" Lucifer slowly closed the door, a golden paper in his hands, your ring tied to it. The sight made his heart ache, the weight of your absence suddenly hitting him like a ton of bricks.

"Dad?" Charlie asked again, as he placed the paper on a table, walking away in silence. She quickly grabbed the paper, in order to read what was written, but her heart skipped a beat at the sight.

"How the tables have turned, fucker. "

Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail

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earthtooz · 2 years

Text

x : BETWEEN LOVE AND LIES :*+ﾟ

in which: you thought nagi was dating you for media reputation... so why does this relationship feel suspiciously real?

warnings: 11.9k words, pro-soccer player!nagi x physiotherapist!gn!reader, reader has hair, lots of food, not at all a realistic story but that's okay pls don't come for me, SLOOWWWWBURN, fake-dating au, reader is oblivious :<

a/n: goodness. if this flops i will cry bc i spent way too long this for it to be healthy for me. enjoy !

↳ 5K EVENT MASTERLIST ༉‧₊

nagi approaches you the day after his name goes viral.

you weren’t doing anything spectacular, merely putting away all the kits and equipment you’d used for the day when the white-haired soccer player approaches you, his hands in his pockets, strolling over to you as he would on any occasion.

your heart races- as it does whenever he’s around, regardless of said occasion, but what tumbles out of his mouth next was worthy of ceasing your heart rate all together.

“wanna date?”

you’re speechless. malfunctioning as you register what he’s saying. the sheer casualness of it all is alarming and you have to snap yourself back into your physical environment before your mind loses to a universe of questions and doubts.

out of all people who have asked you to date, nagi was definitely the most unique. was he okay in the head? did he come for a check up? did he get one of rin’s kicks to the head? or was he just straight up delusional?

“uhh, why?” you ask, cursing yourself a little for how disgusted you sounded.

fortunately for you, your ungracious tone didn’t phase him, not one bit. “isn’t that what two people do when they like each other?”

yeah, romantically. you don’t even think nagi likes you beyond simply platonic, whereas you have to try and shove your feelings for him down your throat every morning before walking in to the training grounds for blue lock’s official team.

you find yourself agreeing regardless, still a little overwhelmed by everything that was going on.

the soccer player then has the audacity to give you two thumbs up in approval, a dumb smile plastering on that expression of his. this confuses you even more.

“okay cool, so what should we do now that we’re a couple?” he asks.

you glance away, unable to look him in the eye for too long without getting flustered. the various weights and foam rollers still scattered on the floor catches your attention, reminding you of your previous task before nagi came to stir up a storm. “well, i have to put these away amongst various things. you can sit on the couch if you want to pass time?”

“do you need any help?” he questions, already bobbing down to be eye-level with you, ignoring the second half of your statement.

“no it’s fine, thank you though.”

“are you sure?”

“yeah! i don’t want to bother you.”

“well if you do this all by yourself, it’ll take longer, and you take longer, it means i have to wait longer to spend time with you.”

when you turn around to say something, the words die on your throat when you realise just how close he’d come to you during the time you had your back towards him. a flash of hurt crosses his typically emotionless eyes when you instinctively recoil from him, his innocent stare dimishing just a little.

“you know how much i hate waiting. it’s such a pain, so let me help out and you’ll get done faster, right?” his hands are already reaching for some of the foam rollers before you can stop him. with an affectionate sigh, you take it from him, placing it back in its original spot.

“fine,” you say with a smile. “if you insist then would you mind putting the ice packs in the fridge? isagi’s ankle was messing up earlier and chigiri came in for his knee again.”

the white-haired hums before obeying, his footsteps that shuffled along the floor telling you know that he is carrying out his duties that you’ve assigned for him. the way his tracksuit makes a noise every time he walks is distracting, but you can’t help but think how much nagi reminds you of a penguin. the adorableness of it all might just kill you.

if only the internet and ‘#nagi seishiro’ tags knew just how much of a teddy bear that 6’3, legendary prodigy, nagi seishiro was, and how you had to massage him almost everyday after training sessions otherwise he’d come to practise the next day with the resolve of a five year old.

being a junior physiotherapist for the blue lock team, you only took care of a few blue lock athletes as your clients since the team was divided between you and a senior physio. nagi wasn’t one of your assigned athletes, however when you first came to the job, he would come during almost closing times (when you had no one booked) and ask for a massage, even if he had his own physiotherapist to request that of. however, nagi seemed to always have some sore muscle because his demands for a massage became a daily recurrence.

you just hope whatever is wrong with him gets sorted out soon.

sure athletes are meant to work hard and use their bodies in the field but physio massages were to assist with injuries by minimising the risk of them, fixing the alignment, or help extend any limited range of movement.

whatever. now’s not the time to think too hard about it because you’re about to go on a date with nagi seishiro.

after cleaning up your space so you could prepare to take care of more athletes tomorrow, nagi is sauntering over to you once more. this time, he drapes himself all over you, causing you to stumble a little from how heavy he is. you pray to whoever’s listening that he can’t feel or hear the way your heart races in your chest, threatening to climb up your throat and jump into his hands.

“tired, nagi?” you question, words muffled against his shoulder as you bring your hands to soothingly pat his back.

“yeah,” whines the white-haired. the smile that creeps onto your face is one full of adoration for the man slung over you. “let me take you out.”

“where to?”

“a night market? it’ll be fun.”

“sure.”

at your confirmation, he separates from you with an excited glimmer in his eyes,

after grabbing your bags and setting out, you’re violently flooded by dozens of paparazzi and interviewers who are click their cameras in hopes of catching blue lock’s soccer player who has taken the world by storm. it’s a little overwhelming, but when nagi covers you from the reporters with his arm which had his tracksuit jacket draped over it, you’re thankful for his thoughtfulness, especially when you’re relying on his grip around your waist to pull you in the right direction.

the crowd is shouting a flurry of things, nothing that you can make out amongst the mess of your mind, your heart, and your ears.

it’s not until you decipher someone shouting something about dating rumours with a japanese pop singer, that you piece together his intentions; a loud wakeup call to the reality of your ‘situation’ with nagi.

the possibility that nagi was using this ‘relationship’ for media coverage and acknowledgement was very likely, especially with his recent growth in popularity and social media following- it would be understandable if he wanted to prolong his moment in the spotlight by entering beneficial relationships.

except typically, celebrities would do it with other celebrities.

so what’s the appeal behind using you?

a funny feeling brews in your gut, one that clawed at your chest with a series of disappointment, anxiety, and dismay. it was unbelievable that someone as hot, both literally and figuratively, as nagi would be interested in you; a junior physiotherapist fresh out of university, but you had hoped. his abruptness today and the whole ‘we should date’ ordeal was to dispel the media from his back, not bred from any genuine feelings.

if this was the only chance you got to stand beside nagi and have him hold you like this, so protectively against him, then you were going to take it until fate deemed it over and pulled you away from him itself.

you were young and simply put, nagi could provide the companionship you were looking for.

fortunately, the press left him alone at the parking lot where security guards were standing, two in the booth and one purchased near the gate. you give them a shy greeting and they return it with a bow.

“sorry about that,” nagi mutters, not looking at you even when you turn your head to stare up at him. “i wasn’t expecting paparazzi to be right outside, they’re such a pain.”

“it’s okay, if anything i owe you a thank you for covering me from them,” you huff, stuffing your hands into your pockets, mind still a little frazzled over the memory of how protective nagi was over you. “stuff like this happens when you’re famous, mr soccer hotshot.”

he rubs his neck, looking to the side as his next words tumble out of his mouth: “does that impress you?”

“why wouldn’t it?”

you try not to think too hard about the blush that manifests on his face, pinning it on the colder weather and frostbite rather than your words.

“so… where’s this night market? i didn’t know tokyo had many night markets.”

“just in shibuya.”

“won’t it be busy?”

“yeah,” he shrugs before adding as an afterthought: “does that bother you?”

“no not at all, i just thought you hated big crowds and busy places.”

“‘s won’t be so bad with you there.”

for someone who prefers to keep quiet majority of the time, nagi sure does have a silver tongue. this is probably the third time in the past half an hour that he’s made your stomach flip, and you can’t help but question his intentions. if he was trying to make you actually fall for him to make your relationship look more legitimate then he’d be disappointed to know that you already had, way before he approached you today.

he agrees to drive the way since one: it was easier and two: you could avoid the paparazzi that way.

upon arrival, you’re glad to see that there aren’t too many people in the crowd. since it was a weekday, students would be participating in extra curriculars and businessmen would be only just finishing work. the majority of the people here were older with a few couples here and there.

“oh, they have lemon tea,” nagi mutters, grabbing your hand before unceremoniously dragging you to the stand. his excitement was endearing, especially when all 6’3 of him approaches the lemon tea stand, needing to bend down in order to be seen by the elderly stand owner. a flash of surprise crosses the maker’s face as he makes eye contact with the white-haired.

“two lemon teas please,” requests the soccer player, using his hands to gesture ‘two’ as he fishes out the appropriate amount of money.

“hey, you’re that soccer player, nagi! you scored an awesome goal the other day. mind if i get a picture?” the owner’s gruff voice requests, a cheery smile making its way onto his face.

“oh. sure.”

you take the picture for them, counting down ‘3, 2, 1’ as nagi gives the camera a peace sign and the owner has a wide, bright smile on his face; so bright that you couldn’t help grinning as well. “i’m putting this on my store front. now you want two lemon teas?”

“coming right up!”

“did you just buy me a lemon tea without asking?” you question, a smile appearing on your features as you glance up at your companion.

he meets your eyes, “yeah, ‘s there something wrong with that?”

“no, not at all. i wouldn’t mind some lemon tea right now. i’ll pay you back.”

“don’t worry about that,” nagi cuts you off before you can even reach for your wallet. “everything’s on me.”

“but-”

“-it’s on me.”

the stand owner is handing over two iced cups of lemon before you can continue bickering and nagi hands one over to you with a wordless expression and you’re compelled to take it, though reluctantly.

“are you two a couple?” the owner asks.

nagi nods, “yeah, we are.”

“ah! no wonder. you two look amazing together, you bagged a real gem,” he says to nagi, pointing at you. you laugh it off, flattered.

“i know i did. thanks for the tea, sir.”

“thank you!” you call out to the owner before being dragged away by nagi again, careful not to spill your drink from how much vigour was in his steps. for his one stride, you had to take two.

after going from store to store and blindly following nagi who led the way with his stomach, you’re eventually brought to a less busy, picnic-like area where there were various benches for you to sit on. it was away from the busyness of the main street, but still had lanterns hung around the premise, combating the darkness of the early sunset during colder months.

you take a seat beside him whilst he sets down the variety of food he bought from the merchants, not trying to think too much about the way nagi presses himself closely against you.

“oh, one of my games had a character drop an hour ago,” he absentmindedly comments, opening his phone for the first time since being with you. you catch a glimpse of his dim phone screen, seeing the notification banner from the game he was referring to.

“that’s cool,” you mutter, unsure of what else to say as you take a bite into the red bean taiyaki.

“yeah, he’s a cracked character. been wanting him forever.”

“are you gonna pull? i wanna see him.”

“really?”

when you give him the nod of affirmation, nagi opens the game whilst you continue eating, gentle anticipation hanging in the air as well as a comfortable silence. it doesn’t take long before he’s purchasing special event tokens, going to the special character screen and pressing the ‘draw x10’ option. you peer over his shoulder, trying to resist the urge to rest your chin on it.

you’re snapped out of your reverie when nagi emits a small gasp. “no way.”

“what?” you ask, watching the way his screen lights up in gold which signalled a successful draw. he looks up at you, eyes wide and mouth partially parted. “did you get him?”

“yeah, on the first go,” he says in wonder, a dazed look in his eyes. “that’s never happened before.”

“no way! you’re so lucky!”

nagi’s face erupts into a small smile, and you’re caught off guard all of a sudden when his hands snake around your waist, pulling you up to sit on his lap. the new proximity and abruptness of it all causes your mind to stop for a second, shutting off as nagi peers up at you with stars in his eyes. you want to hide, but his grip around you is too tight, pulling you in to him.

this feels criminal.

“nah, i just think you’re my lucky charm.”

a quiet squeak of ‘is that so?’ is all you can reply with before looking away, trying to distract your rampant thoughts, hoping that the cool breeze will calm the heat creeping up to your face. “so,” you begin, trying to recover yourself from embarrassment. “can i see your characters? all of them?”

“all of them?” nagi repeats and you miss the small look of bliss on his expression.

“yeah.”

“i showed them to you the other week.”

“okay, well show me this new character then.”

“as you wish.”

he talks you through the characters and their tutorials, showing you their special combos and ultimate moves, all whilst you have to feed him the variety of foods he bought whilst dragging you around like a dog and its owner. as he munches on the takoyaki, kebabs, and sweet potato, you realise just how bottomless nagi’s stomach was and the way he hums in satisfaction after each bite was very adorable.

the night fades into a nice memory of laughter, emptied food boxes, and easy conversation. somehow nagi has manoeuvred himself so that his head was now in your lap, snowy hair spread so invitingly as you resist the urge to run your hands through it, wanting to respect any boundaries of his.

every so often you have to remind yourself that this wasn’t real.

reality hits you once more the following morning when you check social media just to see ‘#nagi seishiro’ trending all over again, all talking about the paparazzi photos that were taken yesterday. taking a glimpse for yourself, you hate the way your gut sinks, especially as articles with the title ‘nagi seishiro with a new lover?’ shine in your face.

it only solidifies your speculations about this (fake?) relationship, and despite coming to accept it, growing resentment poisons your system, rendering you incapable and bitter as you let your breakfast grow cold.

at least nagi correctly covered you with his jacket, your face is completely obstructed, only your body is revealed. you thank your lucky stars that you decided to not wear your ‘blue lock’ staff clothes that morning and just opted for your own athletic wear, that way your identity could be hidden at least just a little.

a message from reo captures your attention and you click on it immediately.

reo: is that you with nagi?

you: yeah!

reo: about fucking time. got sick of you two never doing anything.

you: haha 😐thanks reo 😐

reo: did he take you to the night market last night?

you: yeah! it was fun :)

reo: that’s good, nagi’s been waiting forever.

reo: don’t break his heart

you scoff at the irony of reo’s last text, typing something noncommittal before throwing your phone else where.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the whole team practically knows about you and nagi when you return to work the following monday and the second you enter the building, you’re swarmed by the friendly faces of bachira, isagi, and chigiri, who are seemingly holding a tired nagi hostage. quite an amusing sight. three people, who are roughly a head shorter than the white-haired, restraining a lethargic 6’3 athlete with their bodies.

“are you really dating nagi?” isagi begins before you could even fit in a ‘hello’.

“uh… yeah?” you sound unsure; because you are. a fake relationship is still a relationship, it’s just that one party is more infatuated with the other.

“damn. i didn’t think it was real,” mutters chigiri. “are you sure? he’s not like… paying you to do this, right? you like like him?”

“yes?” you exclaim, a little overwhelmed. “i’m not getting any monetary returns even though i wish i did.” nagi narrows his eyes at you, you poke out your tongue. “please, no more questions, it’s way too early for this.”

“you don’t know how long we’ve been waiting for nagi to ask you out, y/n. even we placed money on him,” reveals isagi but before you could say anything in response, bachira cuts in, practically skipping up to the white-haired.

“finally grew some balls and asked, good job bro!” bachira sings, patting nagi on the back with a violet slap before disappearing.

“see you at practice, nagi!”

the three athletes disappear and you finally exhale after holding in a breath for what felt like ages. what an animated way to start the day.

you hold your breath again when nagi approaches to stop in front of you, a singular coffee cup in his hand; one that he holds out to you.

“good morning, nagi,” you greet.

“hey, i got you coffee.” instinctively, you take the cup from him, immediately warmed up by the heat emanating from it. “i hope it’s still warm. i’ve been waiting for you for a while.”

“you were waiting for me?”

“yeah. wanted to see you before going to training. makes my day less of a bother.”

you smile into your cup, trying to hide the effect that nagi has on you. you were so stupid for him it was insane.

“i’m sorry for making you wait, the trains were a little delayed this morning,” you confess, “but thank you. you’re very thoughtful, nagi.”

his face contorts into an ugly expression, a display of his feelings that are quickly quelled by the feeling of your cold hand grabbing his warm ones. “you take public transport to work?”

“i don’t want to pay for parking and everything. it’s not all bad, i get lovely views and a wake up call every morning.”

the white-haired athlete makes a face of contemplation briefly. “let me pick you up from now on.”

“no, it’s fine. i don’t want to be more of a hassle. i know how much you hate waking up to even just come to work so-”

“-i want to.”

your heart flutters at his insistence and all you can mutter out is a feeble ‘ok’ before slipping your hand out of his. you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to get used to the way nagi seishiro so effortlessly warms your insides; to the point that it becomes an unrecognisable pool of putty.

after a moment, you regain your senses. “you should be going off to practise. don’t make ego mad before the day even starts.”

he groans, “won’t you come and watch? i’ll feel a little better if you’re there.”

“i have my own work to get to but i don’t have many checkups today so if i can, i will.”

“i suppose that’s good enough,” mutters nagi before pulling you in for a loose hug, arms wounding around your waist, breathing you in before stepping back, as if rejuvenated by your touch and presence alone.

“work hard, nagi.”

you go your separate ways, him to the field and you to your office where various coworkers resided.

after a morning of answering emails, going to meetings and consulting the results from various body screenings, you finally have a chunk of time around 11:45 am to go and watch practice. as soon as you entered the training grounds, you’re a little stunned and impressed to see that they were all doing shooting drills, landing them perfectly with no effort, the harsh sound of shoe slapping against leather ringing throughout the area.

nagi notices you almost immediately, his eyes lighting up a little when you shoot him a small wave before wandering into the bleachers, taking a seat in a second row.

you continue watching, straightening up in your seat whenever it’s nagi’s turn, waiting to watch the genius at work. the results are no less than impressive every time but you have to pretend like you weren’t at all marvelling at him whenever he turns around and looks at you expectantly.

15 minutes later, ego calls for an hour lunch break, allowing the players to break off to do whatever their heart desires. the first thing nagi does is walk over to where you sit in the stands, leaning over the first row of chairs to reach you.

“why hello there, soccer sensation,” you greet and he gives you a lazy smile.

“hi.”

“you going to go for lunch?”

“yeah. have you had something to eat yet or do you wanna grab a bite together?”

“i brought cup noodles but i don’t mind. don’t you want to go with your friends?”

“you’re better.”

“please shut up, that’s so cringe,” you murmur with an undeniable grin, one that causes his gaze to soften as well. “let’s get lunch together then.”

“let me get dressed,” the athlete says, about to run off when you abruptly stop him, causing him to turn around suddenly, his hair whipping around with his actions. “what’s up?”

beckoning him over, he returns to where he stood before and you take out a hair tie, one that you store in your pockets all the time just in case. “does your hair not bother you when you practise?” you silently ask for permission, hand merely hovering near his head until you realise that he was okay with the contact. “it’s getting all in your face, even i was annoyed when watching you.”

gently, you run your hands through his hair and despite the sweat on his forehead, it’s still soft and fluffy. goodness you could play with it forever.

then, you gather nagi’s front bangs, bringing them together to resemble a unicorn horn, tying it with your hairband. when you part from your work, you’re pleasantly surprised that it holds but you suppress a giggle because of how ridiculous he looks, paired with that dazed look in his eyes, you never thought you’d see nagi like this.

when you reach to tug your hairband out of his hair, he waves you off, taking the updo out himself.

“can i keep the hairband?” he pleads and you quirk an eyebrow.

“it’s just a hairband,” you say.

“so you won’t miss it right?”

“no, i won’t-”

“-okay, epic,” he mumbles before putting the hair tie around his wrist and a part of you swells with pride at the sight; a feeling that you try to shove down with little success. “can i get changed now?”

“yes, go.”

whilst you watch the white-haired disappear from your vision, you can’t help but wonder how you got yourself into this situation with such a weirdo. still, you adore said weirdo and this was no one’s fault but your own.

nagi wears the hair tie for the remainder of the day.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

roughly two months or so pass by and the days become a blur, especially since training is becoming more rigorous for the team due to the preparations for their spring soccer season. your schedule is piled day by day with athletes coming for their regular checkups and consultations, leaving you drained as soon as the work day is over.

nagi, your loving ‘partner’ notices this because he always likes to stick around after hours and bother you for a massage. he always insists that you do it because it’s like an immediate ‘full heal’ but you just think that he’s too lazy to book a professional masseuse and that you’re the next best thing.

whatever. at least he’s cute.

“i hardly see you nowadays,” he mutters, voice muffled by the leather bed of your workspace.

you gather a little more lotion on your hands, spreading it along his calves before pressing your thumbs into his muscles, trying to identify where any tight spots might be. “i’m sorry, i don’t have much time nowadays. appointments with you guys go all the way til six, and i don’t get home until 6:30. then i’m practically out like a light.”

he hums in torment and in consideration, tensing his shoulders a little as a natural response to the pain in his legs. “well, tomorrow’s a saturday. can i take you out?”

“i don’t know, some athletes may sporadically come and bother me to get a massage so i’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

“be serious.”

“i am free tomorrow.”

“sick. keep it that way.”

“even if athletes bother me for a much-needed massage in order to perform at their best?”

he huffs something in response before flopping his face back down on the leather bed, the (seemingly invincible) knots in his calves taking too much of your attention for you to think too hard about tomorrow’s date with nagi.

he’s still wearing your hair tie around his wrist.

true to his word, nagi picks you up the next day at 3pm for your date since he insisted that was the earliest he would be ready by (meaning, it’s the earliest he can wake up). when you meet him, you’re a little stunned by the amount of disguises he’s wearing. sunglasses, beanie, and a face mask, you’re not sure whether he’s going to attract more attention or blend in.

also, when you’re 6’3 it’s hard to avoid eyes.

“hey, i’m supposed to meet someone called nagi, he’s got white hair, grey eyes, 190 cm, have you seen him?” you ask as soon as you approach the soccer player. he sighs through his mask when you erupt into a fit of laughter. “i’m just kidding.”

nagi brings down his mask to sit below his chin. “your boyfriend is right here,” he corrects, voice demanding and authoritative, sending shivers down your spine.

“so he is,” you mumble, stepping closer to engulf him in a hug. he wraps his arms around you in return and you contentedly sigh when he pulls you into the comfortable, expensive material of his hoodie. “what’s with the disguise?”

“i don’t want anyone to ruin our day out so i’m wearing this.”

“ever so thoughtful aren’t you?”

when you take a step back, nagi’s careful to not let you stray too far which is indicated through the protective arm he keeps around your shoulders.

“should we get going?”

“yeah.”

the white-haired laces your hands with his, his grip gentle yet committed to keeping you near him as you stroll down the warming streets of tokyo.

“it’s finally spring,” nagi comments offhandedly, causing you shift your gaze towards him. you’re surprised that he was initiating conversation, majority of the time it was you doing the rambling and him partaking in the listening. “the cold weather was getting bothersome. hated going to practise all freezing, makes warmup so hard.”

“i like the cold weather,” you say. “it’s easier to dress for winter than it is for summer.”

“that is true.”

“do you like spring?”

“yeah, ‘s my favourite season.”

you didn’t think someone like nagi would bother too much with having a favourite season. “why’s that?”

“it’s a good season for napping and staying inside. i like that i don’t have to do much nor think about much.”

such a nagi response. you admire how stubborn he sticks to his ideals and general philosophy, it’s a comforting quality and aspect to have.

“plus it’s your birthday season,” you add.

he looks at you with a gentle smile before repeating: “it’s my birthday season.”

nagi takes you to a park where the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, its petals decorating the scenery and ground, creating a dainty, lovely carpet of pink and beauty. however, the main attraction of the date isn’t the scenery of the park but rather, the lake where several pedal boats float on the water; some occupied, some vacant.

the soccer player shows the attendant his purchased tickets, getting them scanned before you’re led to get on one of the boats.

“so… are you liking the date?” nagi asks when you’re out far enough from the dock so that no one can hear you. here, he takes off his mask, tucking it into his pocket.

“i am, i’ve been wanting to ride one of these boats for a long time but i’ve just never found the time,” you confess. “i’m glad that it’s with you. thanks, nagi.”

he looks away, an obvious pink tint appearing on his cheeks as he rubs his neck in embarrassment. “it’s okay, i s’pose.”

“you’re so cute,” you say whilst raising one hand to drag through his hair.

“stop,” he whines but not brushing you off or pulling away, instead, he leans into your touch.

a few minutes of silence pass by before nagi speaks up again, retreating back into his personal space as he fishes for something in his hoodie pocket. he pulls out a long velvet box, handing it over for you to take which you do with a little hesitation.

“i wanted to give you something to mark two months,” he tells you and you feel your heart drop.

“wait what? two months? i didn’t know we were celebrating that!” (because you spend too much time fretting over the day he’d tell you that he wants to break up, not needing this fake relationship anymore.) “i didn’t get you anything, i feel terrible now-”

“-it’s not a big deal, i just wanted to give you something.”

“nagi i can’t accept this, this is too good-”

“-i insist.”

“but i don’t have anything for you-”

in the blink of an eye his hands are clasped tightly around yours, his face incredibly close to yours that you’re stupefied into silence. “i. insist.”

you stare at him for another three seconds before relenting, opening the velvet box with the utmost care in fear that you might drop it in the water; a horrifying thought.

a gasp of delight slips out of your mouth when you see an emerald necklace beaming brightly in your face. it’s in the shape of a pendant, encrusted around a halo plate with gold surrounding it, and from the looks of it, it couldn’t have been cheap.

looking back up at him to express the disbelief you feel, you’re silenced by the gentle look in his eyes, one that shines with adoration and devotion.

“it’s beautiful,” you whisper, unable to talk much louder in fear that it’ll cause the emerald to shatter in your hand. “you shouldn’t have.”

“i wanted to because i really like you. stop worrying.”

you exhale deeply, a little flustered and caught off guard by how candid he was. this feels suspiciously real.

“where did you learn to be so romantic?” you quiz, using humour to narrow how awkward you felt.

“shoujos,” he answers shamelessly.

“ah.” makes sense as to why he makes you feel like you’re in one. “can you help me put the necklace on?”

the white-haired shines with glee, features brightening for a second. “y-yeah, of course.”

“thank you.”

when he grasps the jewellery in his hold you turn around to expose the back of your neck to him, practically holding your breath when you feel his warm fingers brush against your skin, his touch barely there yet still prominent enough to blaze trials of fire where he caresses.

“how do i look?” you ask, turning back around.

“beautiful,” he says, no louder than a whisper.

eventually the boat ride comes to an end and you return back to the dock. a lingering feeling of bliss and giddiness resonates in your chest, evident in the undeniable grin plastered on your face whilst you walk through the park; this time with a pretty gemstone adorning your neck.

“nagi, look!” you exclaim, gesturing over to a company-branded photo booth that had set itself up in the middle of the park. there were various people lining up for one and judging by the pleased squeals from groups of students, it would be a nice memory to keep for today. “should we take one?”

“sure,” he shrugs, letting you drag him to hop in the queue which was going much faster than you anticipated.

when it’s your turn, there’s hardly any time to discuss poses when the cameraman clicks the countdown button so unexpectedly. you reflexively hug nagi whilst smiling and he just gives a simple peace sign. he then stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you to place his head atop yours. finally, he bends down to kiss your cheek, rendering you completely mentally inable as you default a pose, not entirely too sure which one whilst you wait for the countdown and the camera flash.

“you guys are so cute!” the photographer exclaims, handing your photobooth strips already. even then you hadn’t regained your senses, relying on nagi to guide you with his hand on the small of your back.

glancing down at the photo strip, you’re stunned into speechlessness at the last photo. you can still remember the feeling of his lips on your cheek, specks of his warmth lingering on your skin whilst you continue trying to register what just happened.

you might explode or something.

“cute,” nagi mumbles whilst putting the photo strip into his wallet, pulling you in by the waist to stand closer to him, whispering in your ear. “i still have one place i want to take you.”

“do you?” you squeak, earning you a nod as he leads you through the park, coming to a stop when you enter a somewhat secluded section that had a sign labelled ‘private picnic rooms’ with various price ranges according to the number of people.

once again, he claims to have a reservation and you’re led by an attendant towards a specific area that had a table scattered with plates of snacks and various decorations. the vibe of the room was incredible with tatami mats, a floor to ceiling glass window that outlook the cherry blossoms, and if you tried hard enough, you could hear a stream running.

“you… really outdid yourself,” you murmur, wandering over to one side of the table, expecting him to sit on the other. instead, he takes the spot right beside you.

you’re not too sure if this layout is how the establishment intended it to be but it is now.

“so you like it?”

“i do. i love everything you’ve done today, you’re too good for me.”

“not true,” he grumbles, too quiet for you to address it further but loud enough for you to hear.

your relationship doesn’t make any sense to you. why is nagi trying so hard to impress you when this relationship was just for beneficial gain? what does he get from booking a pedal boat ride, buying you a (clearly expensive) emerald necklace, then taking you to have a private picnic?

picking up a piece of halved mochi with the provided fork, you give the first bite to nagi who is more than happy to oblige, chewing on it with a satisfied expression.

he’s so cute, you could pinch him.

your eyes then flit over to the decorations on the table, reaching over to the branch of cherry blossoms in a vase before you could think, ripping off one of the sticks with the bloomed flower and putting it in nagi’s hair and behind his ears. his adorableness just tripled.

“aww you look really cute with pink!”

“ya think so?”

“yeah! you’re so pretty nagi,” you reach over to fiddle with the flower, not registering how close you’d gotten to him until you feel his breath fan across your face.

then you comprehend it, frozen in place for a second as you study nagi’s beauty from an angle you hadn’t before. how his snowy hair fanned perfectly over his forehead, the way the light bounced in the reflection of his eyes, and the imperfections that littered across his skin all contributed towards making the pretty being that was nagi seishiro.

he leans in. you freak out, instinctively turning your head.

your breath gets caught in your throat when you feel nagi’s lips brush against the corners of your mouth, lingering there for a moment before parting and the look of hurt that flashes across his face hurts your soul.

did you do the right thing? you thought you did- you know nagi isn’t into you the way you are into him. this relationship was made for media attraction, for him to gain more seconds of fame, so why does he keep acting like you two are real? why does he keep protecting your identity from the internet, why did he wear a disguise when meeting you when he would have wanted to boast that he was taken, why does he want to kiss you?

why does he look so hurt when he didn’t?

this was all so confusing.

tension lingers in the air for the rest of the date. you try to compensate for it by being a little more affectionate, giving in to your desires of openly loving him for the day. nagi’s satisfied.

you don’t notice how the cherry blossom fell from his ear.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you won’t find answers to your questions for a long time. in fact, the amount of questions you had quadrupled one night when you had spent the day at nagi’s apartment after work one day to watch a tv show that was on his ‘to-watch’ list.

“stay the night?” asks nagi, resting his head on your shoulder to give you his best puppy-dog eyes. you will yourself to not look at him by keeping your gaze firm on the television screen.

“oh this episode sounds good. maybe we can watch this then i’ll get going,” you mutter whilst fiddling with the remote, dutifully ignoring his pleads and the way he tugs at you; something that does not resonate well with him.

“oi. don’t ignore me.”

with a rough exhale, you finally turn towards him. “i can’t.”

“why not? we don’t have work tomorrow.”

“i know but i just feel bad to bother you and take up your space.”

“you’re not botherin’ me. there’s so much space here, it feels empty without you.”

“nagi-”

“-won’t you call me seishiro? or something more romantic?”

the relationship shifts with his very words and you feel the genuine desperation that bleeds from nagi through his tone. when you look him in the eye, part of you shines with hope that maybe your relationship was real and not bred for media benefit.

in this moment of weakness, you let the top of your walls crumble.

“okay, seishiro.”

he beams. a smile so pure that you shatter like glass in his hands. “yay.”

you then find yourself underneath him as he lays his entire body weight over you, pressing you into the comfortable cushions of his couch as his hands delicately run up and down your waist. paralysed with confusion at the amount of love he pours into his touch, you keep forgetting that the higher you climb, the harder the inevitable fall will be.

“stay the night, please?”

how could you say no when he was asking so nicely? “okay, seishiro.”

“yay.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“hey seishiro, are you ready?” you ask, fiddling with your rings as you round the corner of your living room where your oversized boyfriend is lounging across the couch whilst you got ready (boyfriend still feels weird to say even if he has zero problems with addressing himself by that title).

“yeah. let’s go-” he grumbles, cutting himself off when he glances over at you, eyes widening. “-whoa.”

heat rushes to your cheeks whilst nagi continues to shamelessly marvel at you, slowly standing up to cross the distance between you, his hands naturally hovering to hold your hips when he’s close enough. his gaze lingers even longer on the emerald necklace that sits between your collarbones. “like what you see?”

he stays silent for a second, leaving you to anticipate his answer. “we don’t have to go to isagi’s,” he mumbles. “how do we feel about staying in?”

“don’t. your best friend is hosting this party, can’t you at least show up for him?”

the white-haired sulks. “but you look so good. why should i celebrate that shortie instead of you?”

you push his face away, jokingly fed up with your boyfriend’s lazy attitude. “isagi is also my friend and i want to celebrate with him, just for an hour or two and then we can leave. deal?”

“fine.”

twenty minutes later, you arrive at isagi’s place where a good amount of his closest friends had gathered, showing up far earlier than you and nagi did.

truthfully, you were looking forward to isagi’s party since he was not throwing a massive rave where everyone was invited- those always ended up to be more unfortunate than fun in your opinion, and that wouldn’t exactly cater to his shy and sensible character. tonight was a gathering for his friends to hangout and celebrate. some you recognise from the team, some of them must be from high school or elsewhere.

bachira’s cheery face is the first one you see upon arrival, his smile wide as he practically bounces off the walls in excitement and you already begin to wonder just how many desserts and sweets he’s had upon arrival.

“hey it’s the couple of the century!” he exclaims with a wink. nagi keens at bachira’s compliment, all proud and boastful as his hand creeps up to hold your hip protectively. “lookin’ good as always!”

“yo, where’s isagi?” the white haired questions.

“around, i’ll take you to him c’mon!”

the two soccer players are off before you can even count to three, nagi and bachira disappearing into the crowd as the hyperactive boy drags your 190 cm of a boyfriend through the crowd. well, at least he took the gift you both bought with him, but now you feel a little alone and very awkward.

walking around the hallways of isagi’s, you feel a little out of place since most of them seemed to be high school friends. it’s not until you reached the kitchen that you sigh in relief, met with the familiar, friendly faces of chigiri and reo who see you first.

“hey!” the red-haired calls out, waving at you as you walk over to them. “it’s good to see you, y/n, how are you?”

“hey chigiri, hey reo, i’m good! i just arrived but this seems like a cool gathering. isagi’s really outdone himself,” you greet.

“yeah he did. good way to unwind before the soccer season gets too crazy,” reo chips in. “nice outfit by the way, you served!”

“oh shut up, you look amazing yourself. you too chigiri.”

“so… where’s nagi?” the purple-haired asks, checking his phone to see if he had received any texts from his best friend. “didn’t he come with you?”

“yeah but bachira dragged him to go talk to isagi as soon as i arrived. you know how he is.”

after a few more minutes of talking with the two, you finally pause the conversation out of concern about nagi’s whereabouts might be. you thought he’d come and find you after a while but guess you’ll search for him first.

informing the pair first before breaking away, you wander into the rooms where bachira pulled nagi into, blindly hoping that they’ll be in there. to your chagrin, there were only a few unfamiliar faces spread along the couches, discussing something with a drink in their hand. you ignore the sight of otoya and one of isagi’s friends sitting too close for comfort.

when you walk into the next room, you stop in your tracks at the sight in front of you: nagi leaning against the wall with a stranger who clearly has no distinction of personal space, their hand resting on his chest. your heart plunges the bottom of your stomach as distraught settles within you because of the scene unfolding in front of you, chest churning with a distant ache that you can’t put your finger on.

then he looks over at you.

the instinct to turn around and run overpowers any rational judgement, especially when a flurry of emotions begin to well up inside you, causing you to sink further and further in an ocean of doubt and fear.

you had no right to be jealous, not over nagi because you’re just his ‘pseudo-partner’, he’s not really yours and it’s moment like these that truly humble you into remembering. you’re just his ‘pseudo-partner’, you’re just his ‘pseudo-partner’, you’re just his-

“-where are you going?” comes an indifferent voice from behind you. all anxiety floods out of you like a broken dam. a warm, large hand tugs on your wrist and even if he had not spoke, you’d know from touch alone that it was nagi behind you. the multitude of times that he’s spent holding you, intertwining his hand with yours, and cherishing you has forced you to brand him into your memory.

you are his. even if it is not mutual, you would be his until he stomps the fire out.

“i-i thought i was interrupting something,” you stammer, looking into at nagi’s doe eyes.

“you didn’t. actually, you made it better by coming,” he says before wrapping his arms around your torso. “that person wouldn’t leave me alone, such a pain. tried to say i was taken too, so glad you came.”

you return the hug, trusting his words. “glad i came too.”

nagi pulls you out of the water.

“can we leave yet? i don’t wanna be here anymore.”

“just a little longer. i haven’t even seen isagi yet. plus, we should dance.”

he gives you a quick look up and down before nodding in agreement. you smack his shoulder.

you manage to locate isagi rather quickly. he was near the food bar where refreshments and various desserts and snacks laid so after greeting him, wishing him ‘happy birthday’, and chatting with him for approximately five minutes before nagi started getting bitchy, you’re pulled into the dance floor by the white-haired. he said that they were playing a good song when you asked why he was being so impatient.

with a laugh, you give in.

nagi doesn’t really know how to dance but you can’t help but be a little entertained, deciding to end his awkwardness when you grab his hands and lead him through some moves, singing along to the song with each other. it ends with your arms around his neck and his around your waist (again) when a slower song plays.

hiding your face in his chest, you breathe in the subtle aroma of his cologne that you urged him to put on earlier. when he gently prompts you to look up at him with a hand gently pulling on your hair, your breath gets caught in your throat at the close proximity as nagi stares at your lips, glancing up to meet your eyes again before leaning in.

this time you don’t feel as cruel, bracing yourself for the first sip of water after crossing the desert, for the final puzzle piece clicking into place, for the feeling of his lips slotting against yours; for the feeling of completion.

instantly you relax at the sensation, melting into his embrace as you hold onto him a little tighter, wanting more. you want to take as much of him as he’ll allow and even then, you’ll cherish every last part.

you want him the same way the ocean longs for the moon.

parting from him makes you feel empty. the lidded look he gives you is full of temptation and… love?

snapping out of your reverie, you step away from him, using his dazed state to create some distance between the two of you as you come to your senses. senses that scream at you for possibly ruining… this.

you hate that you keep running away from him, leaving him in the dust of the mess that are your feelings. it’s immature, irrational, and downright childish, really it is, but how else can you stop the way you’re about to burst at the seams? how can you stop yourself from devoting yourself fully to nagi seishiro if you don’t forcefully screw the lid over your emotions?

for the second time tonight, the white-haired chases after you because there was never another option. he despises being away from you and despises it even more when it’s him you’re running away from, wanting nothing more than to be by your side at all times.

for the second time tonight, he grabs your wrist but now, he leads you through isagi’s house, weaving through a series of well-kept and simply decorated rooms to finally arrive at a balcony. one that was untouched by the party goers.

“why do you keep doing this?” he asks, pleading for an answer as desperation laces his voice and eyes. “why do you keep running away?”

you’re stunned. he’s hurt by your carelessness and the way you constantly recoil from him as if he was electric, his powerful figure slouching, all his quiet confidence and stubbornness seeping out of him, running to pool at your feet.

“am i doing something wrong? i thought you liked me.”

“i-i’m confused,” you stammer stupidly.

he grows even more perplexed. “you’re confused? i’m even more confused! one second i think you like me then the next, you’re trying to avoid me. why do you keep doing this? i really really like you, y/n. but it doesn’t feel like you like me at all sometimes.”

“no!” you blurt out. “it’s not like that! i do like you, a lot, in fact i might even… love you? it’s just…”

as you try to recap the timeline of your relationship in the past few months, you find yourself at a loss for words as you truly realise the multitude of your stupidity. you might slap yourself in the face.

this entire time, nagi has liked you- genuinely liked you for who you are yet you’ve been denying the love he has been trying to share with you since you internalised it all to be a sham. that someone like nagi seishiro couldn’t want you in the same way you wanted him. you’ve been hurting him this entire time and you don’t know how to begin explaining why.

well… no other option than with one word at a time.

you go to grab both his hands, inhaling. “i didn’t think we got together based on genuine feelings.”

he recoils, eyebrows and nose scrunching.

“i thought you were using me to- i don’t know, trend on the internet by teasing everyone with some sort of secret relationship which sounds so stupid, i know, but i just couldn’t believe that you would want me for me,” you ramble, only stopping to breathe. “these few months have been amazing but i lowkey thought you were going to break up with me and say something like ‘surprise! i’ve never liked you’ before leaving me. i don’t deserve someone like you and-”

“what?”

you shut up.

“you thought you don’t deserve me? that’s the biggest lie i’ve ever heard. you’re perfect. i was the one that got lucky.”

“lucky? you? really?”

“yeah,” he breathes. “you’re like a gift sent by fate.”

that renders you speechless for a little. there’s more to say, you know there is because of the pregnant silence that lingers around the two of you for a little but maybe that’s for another time.

are you dreaming? this feels surreal. maybe you’ll start floating too.

“also, why would i want to trend for any other reason but soccer?”

“i don’t know! you asked me out really abruptly- i’ve never been asked out like that before! talk about confusing. and the paparazzi was waiting for us after too like, what was i supposed to think!”

“i see.”

“yeah.”

more silence.

“so… you love me?” nagi asks and you groan, removing your hands from his to cover your face from embarrassment.

“i guess i do,” you grumble.

“hey, don’t hide from me,” the white-haired says before grabbing your wrists to lower them from your face. “i love you too.”

“really?”

“yeah.”

“that’s cool.”

“it is.”

you do both of you a favour by kissing him fervently.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“sei, shouldn’t you be getting ready for the match or whatever it is you athletes do?” you ask when nagi’s mop of white hair peaks up from behind the door to your physio office.

he steps out from behind the doorframe, crossing the distance to get to you. he’s sporting his blue lock tracksuit with his hands dug into his pocket and you’re a little envious of how comfortable he looks. “i was until i realised you weren’t there. i was waiting for you to show up.”

“well i don’t really have to be there early. i just get there around 20 or so minutes earlier.”

“i see.”

“why, did you want me there or something?” you ask with a cheeky eyebrow raise, poking him in his sides causing him to recoil a little from your touch.

“why else would i walk all this way?”

“a stunning 50 metres- i’m so sorry for your perilous journey,” you comment, placing a kiss on his cheek before walking away from him to set up your box of medical supplies including kinesio tapes, bandages, and cold spray. he slumps down on the waiting couch near the entrance.

your role as blue lock’s official therapist meant that you had to be on standby for the team at all time during official matches. even though you aren’t their nurse, you still bring first aid things like ice packs to minimise the amount of time spent travelling between offices, especially if that distance is not needed.

after scanning the box for the last time and mentally ticking your checklist of materials required to bring, you pat your leg in satisfaction before standing up. “i can go to the field now. there’s probably tape changes that i need to do.”

nagi lazily grins, searching for your hand to help pull himself up. “yay.”

“you need to be warming up while we’re at it.”

“aw. okay.”

the walk back to the field is painless enough with nagi holding onto your hand for dear life whilst carrying your box of supplies for you. for someone who is about to compete in less than an hour, he is surprisingly calm, hardly different from his passive, pacifistic self. should you be nervous on his behalf?

stepping in to the field, you’re overwhelmed by the enormousness of blue lock’s home stadium, the lights shining down on you so brightly that you need a moment to recollect yourself. to think that all these empty seats will be filled with various people scares you mindless; even vacant it was still overwhelming.

“y/n!” isagi’s voice breaks you out of your reverie and he jogs over to you with that friendly smile of his. “what’s up?”

“hey isagi, sei dragged me out of my office,” you grumble before turning around to the white-haired who places your supplies on the ground, instructing him to: “go continue warming up.”

he grumbles something incoherent, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead before running off, leaving you a little flustered as the dark-haired player waits patiently to talk to you.

“so what’s up?”

“i just needed my ankle to be retaped, is that okay?”

“that is my job so come over,” you say, beckoning isagi to one of the benches nearby where you decide to station yourself for the time being.

whilst you’re unrolling the adhesive, he awkwardly sits there with his shoe and sock off, exposing his joint where he already you tape it for him.

“do you want pink or blue tape?” you ask, holding up the two options.

“pink.”

the background noises of athletes shouting and kicking soccer balls fill the silence whilst you cut up the length needed to tape isagi’s ankle.

“how are you and nagi?” he asks.

“we’re good,” you respond, mentally reminding yourself to give isagi a present in exchange for his birthday being the sole reason why your relationship strengthened. “both been busy cause of the season but it’s fine.”

“that’s okay, you’re making it work!” he reassures, “well, nagi is really happy.”

“is he now?” you ask, looking intently at your hands as they worked around isagi’s ankle, hiding your giddy expression from the soccer player. the effect nagi has on you will never disappear.

“yeah! always talks about you to us.”

“does he?”

“of course, why wouldn’t he? swears you’re the best thing to have happened to him in a long time or whatever.”

your heart warms uncontrollably. nagi seishiro was going to be your downfall.

finishing up on isagi’s ankle, he tests it out quickly before thanking you and running off again to blend in with his teammates again. ‘don’t work too hard!’ you yell out after him.

after retaping chigiri’s knee, commanding karasu to do his recommended exercises, and other various checkups, the boys are ushered back into the stadium so the audience could begin filing in. before nagi went in, he runs over to you, bundling you in his arms despite the various exclaims of ‘hurry up!’ yelled at your white-haired partner.

“gotta go,” he says breathily.

“wait, shouldn’t you take this off?” you ask, gesturing to your hair tie which sat snugly at his wrist.

“do i have to?”

“you can always rewear it after the match sei, it’s not a big deal.”

“fine. i’ll see you soon then.”

you give him a smile of reassurance, hugging him back. “go. i’ll be watching, my superstar.”

his eyes shine. “cheer for me, won’t you?”

“of course i will. i’m your lucky charm,” you tease but he takes your statement quite literally, grinning at what you say which only illuminates the cheery look on his face.

“can my lucky charm give me a kiss?”

cupping his face, you quickly place a peck on his nose before lightly pushing him away. you know the kiss is not good enough to satiate his hunger but perhaps that’s just what you want from him, to try hard for a better reward. and in this case, by trying harder, he would bring home the trophy.

“go line up!” you command.

nagi grumbles something before stepping away, “i’ll score for you.”

he dashes towards the stadium entrance, leaving you in a lovesick daze as you watch him retreat. someone clears their throat behind you and you remember where you are, sitting down to preserve some professionalism.

sitting in the medics corner was scary, especially as you watch every seat getting gradually filled with an onslaught of different people, but all you need to do for the 90 minutes is watch and be attentive to the game and the health of the players. an easy job for the amount of pay you get.

when the teams walks out into the field, everyone in the stands erupt into a roar, waving their various flags and colours. despite the chaos, nagi looks over at you and you blow him a kiss, unsure of whether or not he could actually see you.

as everything settles down, the match finally begins, starting off with a bang. from time to time you talk with the two other blue lock medics and spend the other moments admiring your boyfriend in his athletic glory.

it’s not until almost halftime that something disastrous happens. when itoshi rin collides face-first into another player, toppling over on the field on top of each other, the crowd erupts into a series of gasps and concerned noises. as the referee’s whistle is called, you three official blue lock staff scramble to the middle of the field where a crowd was gathering around the two, trying to help their soccer players but stepping out of the way when you approach.

“where are you?” one medic begins asking.

“the stadium. we’re in the middle of a match,” comes rin’s gruff tone.

“you are?”

“itoshi rin.”

“how many fingers am i holding up?”

“four.”

“what hurts?”

“my fucking face,” rin snarkily replies, trying to stand up but not making it past his knees as he stumbles a little, holding on to his nose. “shit.”

taking his hand away, there are droplets of red coating his skin and you snake yourself under his arm in order to assist with helping him to the medic’s area, another nurse doing the same. hopefully it’s not serious and he won’t need be to sent to hospital, only benched by ego. which, he was.

in your panic, you don’t register any of the commotion happening within the players themselves whereas nagi, on the other hand, hears it all clearly. how a player on the team he was playing against says something like ‘look at that cutie. reckon i could cuff ‘em?’ where his friend replies with a ‘yeah dude. seems like a babe to be honest, workin’ as a nurse and shit’, geturing to you.

nagi has never felt such an overwhelming urge to punch someone, to jump the two players and tear them apart with the fury he feels accumulating in his insides.

the whistle to notify that the game was continuing disrupts nagi’s train of thought. he goes back into position but not without snaring at the opposition.

blue lock seems to be doing fine without their number one player for the remainder of the game; in fact, nagi is practically dominating the whole field as he shoots, earning goals left and right for blue lock. he’s moving with unmatched determination; a blazing kind that you’ve never seen from him despite having seen countless of his games. you wonder what happened to him since rin got injured, where did the calm, unbothered nagi go? why are you kind of scared of your boyfriend right now?

maybe your good luck kiss worked in giving him the boost you predicted.

however, you never could have predicted the huge turnaround that your life would take when nagi’s jealousy gets too ahead of itself. when his urge to show the world whose you are outspeaks his rationality, too caught up in the torments of untamed jealousy. he’s never felt this way before; a carnal desire so inherent that it makes him feel bare.

only you could do this to him.

and only you could fix the ugly monster inside him

when blue lock scores the goal needed to take the trophy home, the stadium is deafening, so loud that you need to cover your ears from the unrestrained passion of fans and watchers alike, the buzz of excitement unmatched.

nagi is awarded man of the match, taking home a shiny trophy in recognition of his athleticism and remarkable talents. yet the first thing he does when taking his prize is not rush over to his teammates and… do whatever it is that men do, but to run over to where you reside, a possessive and dark look in his eyes. it sends shivers down your spine.

he sweeps you into his arms, winding you so close that you can feel the body heat radiating from him, even through the fabric of his jersey. the trophy presses against your back.

“can i kiss you?” nagi questions although it sounds more like a demand, especially with that breathy voice due to how much he’s been running around.

short circuiting for a moment, you reply: “but everyone’s watching.”

“let them.”

you’re well aware of the multitude of cameras that may be pointed at you and nagi. if you act stupidly, it will appear on the internet and who knows what repercussions it might bring, are you ready to be thrown into a life of chaos, joining alongside your boyfriend?

the answer is obvious when you take the initiative of kissing him, allowing him to devour you whole: his first act of establishing just exactly who you were to the entire world.

you adore how scandalous this feels.

his second act comes mere minutes later at the exit where paparazzi and media were waiting patiently behind barriers for their star players. this time, instead of leaving alone or with his teammates, there’s an unidentified figure accompanying him, hugged close to his side and proudly wearing his jersey. the very one that boasts ‘NAGI’ along the back. everything descends into chaos.

an immense feeling of deja vu encompasses you when you recall the day nagi asked you out and the overwhelming lineup of paparazzi and photographers that waited for him outside. it’s different now. you feel confident in your place beside nagi, looking perfect to him in his clothes- as if you were meant to be his.

nagi walks in front of you to use his stature to protect from the greedy eyes of the internet whilst you use your hands to cover your face as best as possible, all to ensure your privacy from those who are going to eat these photos up when they see them.

and- well, if everyone is going to see them then why not send a little message whilst nagi’s here?

the kiss nagi sneaks on your neck is entirely proprietorial, a clear sign of affection for the whole world to see as he eyes the cameras with a deadly look in his eyes.

“mine,” he mutters in your ear, sending one last glare over his shoulder before disappearing from their nosiness and intruding flashes.

the cameras can see your hair tie that slips up when his sleeves are tugged too short.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

your notifications are rampant the next morning, mostly because of friends, and ‘#nagi seishiro’ has taken the internet by storm once again.

this feeling of anxiety settling in your stomach will never go away whenever you check social media to see if any of your information has been leaked and by whatever miracle, you’re absolutely relieved to see that nothing drastic has been revealed.

speaking of boyfriend, nagi stirs from where he lays beside you, stretching for a moment before patting the bed in search for your warmth.

shutting off your phone and putting it down, you watch him try to locate you, unable to stop the smile from stretching at the corner of your lips. he’s adorable. even more so when he has to open one eye because his instincts were failing him.

“oh. why are you awake?” he asks groggily, still adjusting to consciousness. nagi tries to sit up to rest on his elbows only to fail miserably and fall face-first into his lush pillow.

“body clock,” you say. you’ll talk about yesterday later. right now, it was just you and him and the soft glow of the sun saying good morning.

“turn it off and go back to sleep.”

“fine.”

“c’mere,” nagi beckons you over weakly, hands reaching for your figure but falling short due to the enormous size of his bed.

it’s not like nagi to splurge on things but it is like him to splurge on getting the most comfortable bed ever, so when he demands you to fall back asleep, how could you say no when it feels like napping on a cloud? and with your adorable boyfriend? some things in life come too easy.

shuffling back towards him, he’s quick to throw an arm and a leg around you, trapping you in.

“my body hurts,” whines nagi. “so much.”

“what do you want me to do about that?”

“massage later, please?”

“is that all i am to you?” you question teasingly whilst rubbing hearts into his skin.

“maybe,” he sings.

astounded, you give him your best look of betrayal. “we’re breaking up.”

“no, don’t do that,” nagi pleads, hugging you closer as if you were going to get up from his vice grip in the first place. “don’t be mean.”

“oh sure because i’m the mean one,” you joke as he burrows his head into your neck. instinctively, your hands card through his hair, extra soft from washing it last night. after a moment of silence, you speak up. “you’re trending again because of me so just remember that what i said about our fame-grabbing relationship was true.”

“i didn’t mean for that to happen. i’m just too good,” he takes his head out of your neck, doe eyes looking up at you with heart wrenching awe. “and i love you too much to hide it.”

you pat his cheek, unable to stop a wide, dreamy smile from appearing on your face. “go back to sleep.”

“‘k. goodnight.” the second nagi’s head hits his pillow, he’s out like a light.

it’s a little surreal to be wrapped in his embrace like this, to be able to gaze at his features so closely and unabashedly whilst his arms extend to mould you into him. even being as close as humanly possible isn’t enough for nagi who has an unlimited desire for more, at all times.

if it’s you he wants, then you’ll happily grant it.

the last thing you see before falling into a deep slumber is a hair tie that lies on his bedside table.

#pls be nice to me i'm really fragile rn i'm sorry this wasn't amazing #nagi x reader #nagi fluff #nagi seishiro x reader #seishiro x reader #nagi x you #nagi drabble #blue lock x reader #blue lock nagi x reader #blue lock drabble #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff

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etfrin · 7 months

Text

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter eighteen | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | non-con/dub con hints, hints of knife and mild blood consumption, Coriolanus Snow, mentions of suicide, mentions of Dr. Gaul, choking | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 coriolanus snow has his hands on you and he's not playing

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 @tristanswildcat thank you for feedback! and y'all also make sure to let me know your thoughts for the chapter!

Beta read by the lovely 🌹 @nowitsmissing

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Coriolanus walks behind you. The silence is deafening, the tension could be cut with a knife. The upper floors had bedrooms assigned to every Capitol ‘guest’ that had come. Snow was walking you to yours. You don't say a word to him; you keep walking forward searching for your room number.

You make a soft noise as you find your assigned room. You take out the key that was given to you and you push the key into the keyhole. Your eyes flicker at Coriolanus. But it was impossible to see his emotions, his face was cold and passive. As if you're nothing.

You open the door, unaware of the danger.

You walk in, and Coriolanus follows.

Not even a second has passed and you find yourself pinned to the door. Coriolanus grins as he sees the flash of fear in your eyes. ‘Be afraid of me, dove,’ he thinks. Be afraid. Coriolanus Snow was going to punish you.

And you're going to take it.

He knew he was capable of killing you. He was mad enough for that. He also knew he would kill himself right after because there would be nothing to live for.

“Hi, dove,” he smirked.

“Remember me?” He hissed in anger.

“Cory-” Before you could finish calling him by his nickname, he cuts off your airway with his hand on your throat. He pressed hard, making you gasp. He was taking your breath away.

“Don't call me that, bitch,” he growled. You squirm under his hold but don't fight back. He likes how you're giving in. You're letting yourself surrender like a broken toy. Good girl.

You gasp, trying to say his name again. He pressed harder, making your eyes nearly roll back. He then loosens the hold, letting you take small amounts of air so that you would remain conscious.

Coriolanus takes out a pocket knife that he keeps in his pants at all times. He chuckled as your eyes began to panic and your trash in his hold. “I'll stab your heart if you keep acting up, sweety,” he whispered to your ear. The threat has you relaxing in his hold, though you whimper in fear. Coriolanus would feel ashamed later that he could feel his cock harden from the sound.

Such a fucking drug you are, making him high after all these months. He needs to overdose or else he doesn't think he'll survive. “You…” he said, “you're a horrible, horrible being.” With every word, he squeezed your neck. “I hate you.” It was a lie obviously, but Coriolanus figured that you'd never find out.

Tears begin to fill your eyes. Coryo ignored the pang of pain in his heart. He takes the pocket knife and lets the blade slowly drag against your cheek. He doesn't let it break the skin, not yet. He takes the blade down until he reaches the button of your shirt. One by one he cuts them off, exposing your body to him. He hums in appreciation of your beauty.

“But you still belong to me.”

He lets the knife break skin. He was cutting you near your hip. He could hear you hiss. He doesn't care. He carves out two letters on your skin. CS. Coriolanus Snow. That way you can never forget about him again like you did for all these months. He made sure of it. Every time you look at your body, it will remind you of him.

Snow would never leave your mind now.

Coriolanus felt proud of himself for achieving that. He lets the pocket knife fall on the floor and traces the bloody cut with his finger. He takes his bloody finger and smears the red on his lips. His tongue peeks out to lick the metallic liquid and he groans as he has your taste on his tongue. Is it disgusting of him to think that was delicious? God, district twelve has fucked him up.

“You're so fucking addicting. I should kill you,” he said to you as he sucks his lower lip for any lingering taste. He then pressed a kiss to your cheek, his hold around your neck completely loosening. Now it just stayed there like a leash.

You gasp, taking much-needed air as Coryo nuzzles his face to your neck. The smell of blood fills the room and you whisper his name,

“Coryo.”

He felt the anger rushing back, “You don't get to call me that anymore, dove.” He adds, “You lost the fucking right.” Tears begin to fall from your eyes. “Coryo- please-” you plead, afraid of him.

He felt more anger by the fact that you thought that he would hurt you. He would never! “No- fuck off! Shut up!” He yells, he hopes that the walls are thick here. He pressed his lips to yours, shutting off your begging. He kisses like he's starved and he is. He savagely bites your lower lip, sucking your tongue. He groans into your mouth. He doesn't break the kiss, no matter how sloppy it gets.

He hadn't realized that he had begun to choke you again until you stopped kissing back. Your eyes were closed and your unconscious body was supported by him. He takes you to your bed and lays you down slowly. He looks at you, your shirt torn, your body exposed, and your mind shut off.

He frowned, he thought he would like you see you like this. But he didn't at all. He remembered the first time he had been pinned against a door. It was in his penthouse, you were bleeding that day too. But in a different way. He fucked you with his fingers that night, and you were out of it from pleasure. He preferred that much more. He thought of you as pathetic right now.

Anybody could come and take advantage of you. Coriolanus couldn't let that happen. He finds out there's a first aid kit in your suitcase. He takes off your ruined shirt. He wets a cotton ball with antiseptic, he then presses the bud on your cut. He cleans it up to the best of his abilities and stops the bleeding. He then takes out an oversized t-shirt… which he recognizes as his.

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused about why you would keep his t-shirt. He clenched his jaw, a bit mad that Tigris had given it to you. He hadn't checked any of her new letters and it was time he spoke to her anyway. He then dresses you up in his old t-shirt. Then he waits… and waits.

He wondered how long he knocked you out for and if he should leave. But he doesn't. It's too risky to leave you alone in a place filled with filthy peacekeepers. Then he hears you murmur in your sleep,

“Please, Dr. Gaul, let me talk to him. Please, I beg of you. He's sorry, I promise.”

You wake up with a startle, crying out his name as you sit up. Your eyes are wide as you look around the unfamiliar room. Then your eyes land on him and you remember. You practically tackle him. Your limbs caging him into a hug. You were on his lap. And you were sobbing so loudly.

“Coryo, Coryo, Coryo,” you repeat his name like a prayer. You pulled back slightly and then you raised your hand to slap him, hard. It stings. He knew that it would leave a mark.

“Why didn't you reply to any of my letters, you bastard!? And you called me a bitch! The fucking audacity!”

Your hand wraps itself around his throat.

It was at this moment that he knew, he fucked up.

Next Part

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cocomanga · 10 days

Text

The Sweetest Beat - Set 4

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader,

CW: Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Oral, BDSM, Unprotected Sex, Edging, Drunk Sex, Aggressive Sex, Overstimulation, NPD Abuse/Trauma, Intense Feral Megumi.

READER DISCRETION ADVISED: HEAVY Noncon/Dubcon Please DO NOT proceed if that triggers you. Yes, I'm so extra. Ha! This is the Megumi I want to royally f*ck up my life honey. I couldn't find him in fics so I created him myself. Brace yourself.

Note: please block me if my work is not your cup-o-tea. I do not own any of the character art Please respect my blog art.

Reader is encouraged to listen to music mentioned for context :)

Total WC : 15K

Wanna take it from the top? Start at Set 1🎶;)

<< The Sweetest Beat - Set 3

The Sweetest Beat - Set 5 >>

TSB - Masterlist ~ AO3 | Wattpad | Playlist

Synopsis: Megumi Fushiguro is the leader of a fresh new rock band. They're currently playing covers and gaining a following at an alarming rate, skyrocketing his career as an indie artist. But when his best friend introduces him to a beautiful someone and sparks fly, he's challenged to navigate her fear of loving freely.

..... Minors: You have no business here. Love you, but please don't ....

▶ SET 4 Your Interlude – Sabrina Claudio Lung - Vancouver Sleep ClinicPrototype – Andre 3000 Lippincott - Animals As Leaders The Pretender - Foo Fighters Smile Like that – Esperanza Spalding Closer To Me – H.E.R. Double Back – Coco Jones I’m not OK – H.E.R. Thinkin Bout You - Frank Ocean Love You Like I Do – Vancouver Sleep Clinic Fall In - Esperanza Spalding

The office gave off a bit of a chill, with the exception of the body heat between Megumi and you. Most of the time no one was present there at this hour. The atmosphere was tranquil. Still and quiet, pierced through by the sound of the radio he always kept on in his office, the volume turned down extremely low for white noise, playing a familiar song:

Your Interlude - Sabrina Claudio.

The two of you rested peacefully together in these early hours of the morning, in one of his most precious spaces, somewhere important to him.

Megumi had awakened just before dawn, gently tugged out of the depths of his slumber by his consistently wandering mind. Even as he rested in his subconscious, his body, delightfully disoriented, reminded him that things were somehow not the same today.

Today, there was something very different. Something special.

You were there with him. Lying peacefully next to him. The warmth he felt was reminiscent of his childhood, waking up to a gift on Christmas morning. Your beautiful presence by his side.

You were his. And finally, in the most intimate way, completely relaxed and perfectly … vulnerable.

There was no denying how much he liked you. And yet, as of right now, unfortunately, this is a complicated position for the both of you to be in. On mornings like this, Megumi had a hard time.

His body seemed to have a mind of it's own and, of course, he preferred to tame it by something much warmer and softer than what he alone possessed.

Now, this time, he finally had someone. Someone soft. Someone sweet. Someone nice, warm, and cozy. Comfortable. Safe. Someone he truly not only wanted, but needed.

And it’s you. You’re his.

As he peered toward you, and his eyes adjusted to the dark, the shape of your face slowly came into view as slivers of light peeked through tiny openings in the thick drawn curtains. He turned his body toward you, on his soft, comfortable sleeper. It had been about six hours since you both passed out, and he couldn’t be happier to see you here, still next to him.

It felt as if it had taken so long to get you here. You are so beautiful to him. And somehow he could never get enough of you.

I knew I’d always want her. From the moment I saw her.

As relaxed as he is, Megumi’s a special type. The passionate type. The dominant type. The … insatiable type.

After taking time away from you, after getting a taste of you and you disappearing the way you did… last night? That wasn’t enough. Not even close. And seeing you like this? It was only a trigger. A trigger that quickly fired off another round in the barrel of his ravenous nature.

His heart beat heavily in his chest as his gaze rested on your sleeping face. His blood quickly warming in his veins as he took in the perfect image before him that he was sure to record in his mind. He wanted to always remember you like this. And the way he fiercely desired you. He hadn't quite told you. He wanted to show you.

I hope she knows what she’s gotten herself into…

Lung - Vancouver Sleep Clinic

began to play as you lay there, quiet and pretty, the blanket pulled over your back, your hair in a ruffled mess, strands twisted softly in random directions across your face and his arm as he lay next to you.

Your lips slightly parted, your breaths soft and slow, interrupted by tiny murmurs as your head rested comfortably on your forearm.

Megumi’s gaze hovered at your face, his desire stirring inside him, the desire to feel you all over again. To touch more. To taste more.

He gently pinched the blanket and pulled it down slowly, sliding it off of your back as he watched the fabric rise and fall over the outline of your body, unveiling your beautifully smooth skin, the side of your bare breast just barely revealing your nipple as you lay on your belly, his eyes riding each and every one of your curves like waves as they traveled up and down your body.

So fucking pretty.

He reached his large, calloused hand over toward you, his fingertips grazing across your supple skin, it's texture soft and smooth. Your tiny flinch and sleepy moan at his touch, and the contrast against his hand arousing him all the more.

His lids fell halfway over his eyes as he took in the sight of you. He couldn’t help but lean in and kiss your soft shoulder which curved upward into your arm as it supported your head.

She still smells so good.

He inhaled deeply as he pulled the blankets down more, his temperature rising steadily with every extra inch of your body that his eyes could see, until the blanket was completely removed, revealing you in all your beautiful splendor.

Megumi had a tendency to get what he wanted. He never felt the need to speak much, because he’s confident in his value. Not overly confident, but… content. If he ever had something to prove, he had no issue doing so, simply by existing at his best, which was usually excellence. That consistently got him where he needed to be.

Anything it seemed he couldn’t get, he accepted as just not being meant for him. It was what he believed in. Getting shit done meant not being complacent, not settling. Doing what’s required.

He always felt that obtaining something truly meant to be, something he needed, was a sustainable responsibility. And you, you were absolutely something… no… some one he needed.

You were his next greatest accomplishment. Not only an attained goal, but him reaching yet another level of greatness in his life. He recognized greatness. And YOU were it. Precious. Amazing. He had no reason to desire less. He wanted someone as great as you.

Many of the people he regularly met were … abrasive to say the least. Personalities riddled with anger, disregard and ulterior motives, with the exception of his band and his best friend of course. The people that seemed to travel through his life always just wanted something. To attach themselves to him, or to somehow control him to get what they felt they needed.

But not you.

From the very beginning, your frequency was high. A genuine disposition on a wavelength of kindness, your voice a gentle vibration, and a level of humility that he rarely ever saw.

Your sweetness was like an addiction to him. It dripped from you like honey, and he could smell it on you like a starved grizzly.

Ever since the first night the saw you, He craved you. Constantly.

I need more. Right now.

You stirred as he carefully lifted your hips, pushing a pillow underneath you, just enough for him to gain access.

One more should do it.

Your body was completely limp as you lay there, unconscious.

He positioned himself behind you as he sat on his knees between your thighs, one of your knees propped up around the pillows, the other leg straight. He could see between them, but only just a little. He was unable to view your entrance clearly, let alone get inside without moving you a bit more.

His heart thumped faster each second as his hooded dark blues traversed up and down your legs. Your smooth, beautiful legs, leading up to that pretty round ass.

Megumi hovered his entire body over yours, leaning into you, his hands resting on each side of you in the position of a push up, his face nestled into the crook of your neck, pressing his chest softly into your back. His arms held him up as he inhaled your scent, nuzzling into your neck with his eyes closed, planting soft kisses in different areas of your nape and shoulders.

Haah… she drives me fucking crazy.

His hardness pressed firmly between the soft cheeks of the tops of your legs as he exhaled. His face and lips followed the curves of your back as he slid down lower, lifting a hand to slowly trace the outline of your body, pressing lightly against the sides of your breasts, gliding down to your waist as he peppered your back with kisses, strands of his hair following the patterns his lips left behind.

He reached your thighs, leaning his face in between your legs, dark blues staring into your center … that sweet peach that he gets to taste, hopefully now, as often as he wants.

Megumi began to recall that night he sat in this very room, gawking into his computer at you as you were in an entirely different country, slinking around on a bed that he couldn’t join you in.

How many times had he replayed those images in his mind? The sound of the moans you made echoing in his head, torturously audible as he visualized you touching yourself, calling out his name.

How many times had he revisited that moment in his mind as he lay alone in his bed, his cock pressing against the fabric of his boxers, swelling and aching for you to the point he had to free himself of the strain, the pain of it swelling, begging desperately for release that he had no choice but to grant himself?

How many times did he need to stroke it hard to make it soft? To tame it as it’s stiff, angry head leaked when he thought of you, that sweetness that dripped from you like honey, your beautiful body. Your sensual voice. Your big pretty eyes.

You seemed so untouchable then. So far away. He wondered when, or if he’d ever get the chance to see you like this again.

And here you are.

He won't let you go again. You tried it.

And if you try again, he'll stop you.

He'll stop you every time.

… she’s mine.

He gripped your thighs, spreading them apart as you laid there, unconscious. His dick twitching at the sight, his bottom lip disappearing into his mouth.

I want… just a little taste…

Megumi slid his hands upward from the middle of your thighs to your ass. He squeezed, eyes filled with lust, observing how the stretch of your skin caused your entrance to spread open just a bit, your pretty folds blossoming like a flower. He leaned in squeezing a bit more, biting his lip, gawking at your tiny hole, wondering how he ever fit inside.

His breathing became heavier, his body tingling as a hard line formed between his eyebrows. He was growing more ravenous.

She's so fucking hot.

His eyes dart up toward you, checking to see if you’re awake.

He hissed, feeling his dick pulse, begging for entry. His brows wrinkling more as he gripped your thighs, pressing your legs open and his thumbs in, pushing outward, spreading you even wider.

He flicked out his tongue, pressing it between your folds, dipping it into your hole softly as to not startle you awake, rotating it in tiny circles as it inched further inside with each small circle, then closing his lips around it with soft kisses.

As you lay on your belly, he kissed your clit, then slid his tongue up to your entrance, pressing it deeper inside your heat, then trapping the fleshy layers between the tender part of his lips as he sucked.

He repeated each pass again, kissing your clit, licking up to your hole, plunging it inside, sucking your flesh. Again and again, opening you wider each time. Your taste driving him nearly mad.

He remembered how that night, the first time he touched his tongue to your lower lips, how sweet you were. He couldn’t wait to taste you again. He could devour you every day and never get tired.

He remembered how he damn near desperately wanted to submerge his entire body inside you and bathe in your nectar. His cock throbbed almost painfully at the thought.

Megumi moaned against your core, his pulse quickening, his thoughts growing foggy from your intoxicating scent as he licked you like candy.

He used his thumbs to widen you even more, bringing your opening more clearly into view. He was now rutting his tongue inside, thrusting, pushing harder, desperate to go in as deep as possible.

He flicked it against your gummy walls, blissed out on your flavor.

His dick jolted eagerly, calling out to you. He reached down, holding it in a tight grip, as if telling it to wait its turn while he lapped up your juices with his tongue.

You stirred from the commotion, feeling strange sensations in your sleep. Your body tingling, tremors starting and stopping in intervals.

“Mgh!..” … Is it a dream?

You thought

She’s gonna wake up

He thought

Ah … she’s fucking delicious. “Mmgh” N-Need to get inside...

“Mmmh!”... you moaned, stirring even more, half asleep.

Your eyes rolled around behind your lids, tiny moans escaping your lips as Megumi continued, keeping his screaming cock at bay as his mouth fucked and sucked on your sex.

He noticed your squirming, your hair tossing around as you writhed.

He kissed you one last time on your glistening pussy, then hovered his face up over it. He held you open with a semi-strong grip, he coated his tongue with saliva, opened his mouth and watched it fall, glazing your opening.

“Haaah fuck”

He leaned into you, his hard body over yours, his solid muscles flexing as he propped himself up with his arm, his hair falling over his fiery eyes as he looked down at your face, your eyes still closed.

He reached down, gripping his thick, hot, angry cock in his hand, pressing the tip into the wet mess he'd made.

He pressed in a little harder... his eyes fluttering, then flicking up toward your face as he waited for your reaction.

"Mmm… So tight…"

You moaned, and whimpered… a little louder than before.

He pressed in harder. Slowly…

You stirred more. Your eyebrows scrunched, “mmhh!”

what… “ahh”... what’s happening?

Harder still, halfway in, he let go of his throbbing cock, rock solid, and needing very little assistance going forward. He gripped your inner thigh, opening you up even more.

His darkened eyes watched you move around, his other arm gripping the sheets against the mattress next to your head for more leverage as he rocked his hips, thrusting his big dick further inside you, your gummy walls clenching around him.

Pressing deeper still... Megumi couldn’t contain his own whimper as he sank into your tight, hot, wet, cunt.

“mmmhh.... ~Megumi!”

Oh my god… He feels so good! “Ha-ah…”

He’s … so fucking big.

You could feel him shudder with every stroke, your voice riling him up even more, his steady rhythm wavering as he fought the urge to go over the edge, dying to cum inside you and fill you to the brim with his seed. He gripped your hips with a constraining hold so tight you’d think he was afraid you’d get away.

He’s so strong… that will... leave a mark...

He leaned in further, pressing his chest against your back, sucking hot pink blotches onto your neck and back as he continued to slide his length slowly in and out of your slick heat.

He’s… marking me… branding me.

Megumi propped himself up by his elbows as he grinded his hips slowly into you, savoring every inch of your passage that his length covered, his hands fisting into your hair after gently brushing it up off of your back and neck with his fingers.

His tongue feather-light as it glided along the line of your neck behind his wet kisses, sending shivers up your spine.

He groaned as his long shaft pumped slowly in and out, your bodies flush against each other, while he continued to color the skin on your nape with soft sucking motions, realizing you were fully awake by now.

“Can’t run from me anymore...” he hissed into your ear.

He was completely drunk on your pussy, steadily growing more feral. His body trembled, goosebumps pressing out against his skin as his dick dragged along the gummy walls of your tight heat.

More… fuck, I need more of her.

His hitched breaths wafted over your neck as he thrusted, his shaft disappearing even deeper into your core, reaching desperately for your sweet spot. “ha-ah wake up pretty girl.” his deep, raspy voice cooing directly into your ear, the warmth of his breath wafting down your neck, his jet-black hair tickling the side of your face.

“Ngh! … Me—gumi! You… you feel so good baby.” You whimpered into the pillow as your body trembled beneath him.

The feeling of him exploring you, his hands, his soft hair, his beautiful face, his deep dark blue eyes gazing over every part of your body in every secret place, his long, hot cock filling your insides, his deep sexy voice… every touch, look, or piece of attention you receive from him never failed to have you melting into slick hot puddles.

His words, and at the pace he was moving, felt so amazing, tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you relaxed, your combined vibrations gliding beautifully along the same wavelength.

“That’s my girl”. He purred, still holding you tightly in his grasp.

You lifted your waist up a bit from the pillows, granting him easier access to you as your face mushed back and forth, your lips parting as you gasped, eyes still closed, letting him do whatever he wanted with you.

Megumi responded, releasing your head, snaking his hand down curving it around your thigh toward the front, pausing his thrusts as he began massaging your clit with his middle fingers, the sharp sensations causing you to jerk his length even deeper inside you.

Your moans became even louder, your body entranced by the feeling of this man’s meticulous ministrations.

Megumi’s thick hardness throbbed deep inside your sweltering heat as it jerked and pulsed into you all on its own. The weight of his body held you still, forcing you to take everything he gave you.

Megumi pushed out a low grunt, then hissed softly into your ear. He pulled out slowly, just a bit, then pushed back in to the hilt. “Haah... fuck, you feel so good.”

You couldn’t help but moan his name. “M~Megumi!” as you held in your release.

“Who's pussy is this, love?”

“Megumi's.”

“Ngh…” he buried his face in your neck. “that’s right… Now, I need you to go ahead and cum on daddy’s dick.”

He pressed in one last time before lifting the weight of his torso off of you, pulling you by our waist from the pillows, spreading your thighs wider with his knees.

He tightened his grip on your hips as he flattened one of his hands against the small of your back, sliding it up to the middle, pressing it down.

You responded with a deep arch, feeling his length press inside you, impossibly deeper.

Your belly felt it’s absence as his heavy shaft pulled slightly out of you, then back in, over and over as he began to move faster, thrusting and squelching and pumping in and out of your soft hole.

His mind went dumb and his mouth gaped open as he rutted into your sex, sweat dripping, muscles spasming, blissed out as he ravished you, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, beating and beating as your soft walls massaged his length.

Your chest and head pressed deeper into the mattress as Megumi’s hands firmly grasped your hips, drilling himself into your core.

His eyes rolled back with his head as his face turned toward the heavens, the euphoria of being inside you taking over his being. “Haaah…so wet … aaah! … you make … me … fucking… crazy” he beat harder, deeper, pounding relentlessly as he felt himself peak…

You whimpered as your arms stretched out wide, your hands tightly gripping the sheets around you, “Nghaaa! … I’m.. Ugh! I'm cumming baby! …” your entire body convulsed even as you climaxed, clutching him fiercely, the sound of skin on skin slapping, echoing throughout he room.

As Megumi felt you coat him, soaking his cock in your sweet cream, he doubled over, continued to fuck himself into your messy center, his tip kissing your cervix until every drop of his hot cum was milked from him, filling your hole to the brim.

You both rode out the high, moaning together, his chest rising and falling as it pressed into your back, his hot tongue making more long strokes across the back of your neck and shoulders.

Megumi had seared himself into your body.

And god, you loved how it burned.

*~*~*~*~*

Work was tedious, and as demanding as usual.

Mr. Geto took full advantage of your abilities, as well he should, since you had more than proven your worth at this gig. However, after that last work trip you took, it seemed to be much easier for you to work up the courage to ask for compensation whenever you were expected to stretch your self thinner.

“Would you be willing to go on another one?” Mr. Geto asked as he walked into the breakroom where you were filling your mug up with your 3rd cup of coffee.

“Another… What?” you asked, pouring in cream and sugar.

He closed his eyes and flashed you a huge fake smile, jokingly. “Another work trip of course.”

“Oof…” you said, raising your eyebrows as you nearly burned your mouth on the scorching hot coffee. “Maybe hire some more help?”

“I could do that… or you could get that bag” he quipped.

You chuckled, “Touché sir. Tch”.

“Hey, look, why should I train another group right away when I have one that’s more than capable right here.” He held out his hands, shrugging his shoulders.

“I get it, but the few of us can only do so much. Have you had any other employees train for this position?”

“I have, actually. We worked together for a while just before I transferred here. His name’s Sukuna. He’s a powerhouse. Great work ethic but kind of a hard ass. He’ll be coming by this office next week.”

“Well that’s a relief. Hopefully he’ll work well with our team.” You said, with a slightly concerned look in your eyes.

“I’m sure he will. I’ll keep you updated on the details. See you later.” Geto waved as he walked out of the breakroom back to his office.

You waved back, relieved that you’ll get a break from his overwhelming expectations, but hoped a brand new leader in your department wouldn’t cause any issues.

You decided not to worry too much about it, especially since you were able to trust Geto to take care of his team.

“Three hours left” you sighed, on your way to your desk. “I’ll be glad to get back home.”

*~*~*~*~*

You walked about two blocks from your work to the train station.

The air was crisp outside, as the temperature began to fall slightly below usual. You could feel the chill just underneath the breeze, welcoming Autumn, your favorite time of year where the leaves graced the ground in their fiery shades and tints of reds and yellows.

You stood at the edge of the platform as you watched your train approach. You took out your earbuds and popped them in, playing

Prototype – Andre 3000

Thoughts of Megumi began swirling around in your head. You never seemed to have to wait too long before your mind was filled with him. Your life, and everything in it seemed easier to manage now that he was a part of it. That was a warm feeling, but one you had strangely never known before.

The way he seems to lift the weight of the world from your shoulders was far too easy to become addicted to.

It was as if you had drifted off into an alternate universe. A universe where the people who made you happiest existed.

This wonderful, adventurous life, this one, is the one you had been looking for. The one you had been longing for.

After all, it was a life you were building for yourself. You had Nobara, Yuji, and now, you could say you had him. He had practically shown up out of nowhere. Unexpectedly, and spectacularly.

Your warm heart skipped a beat in your chest as you relaxed into your seat. You held your head down, the metal grinding against the tracks piercing through to your ears past your music, while flashes of Megumi's dark blues burning through your eyes sparked into your head.

Neurons fired in your brain, triggering a tingling sensation that spread throughout your body to your core as you blushed, recalling his touch, his intensity, and the way he just took you.

You periodically snuck quick glances up at the strangers’ faces on the train, hoping no one had noticed that deep blush on your cheeks as goosebumps peaked on your skin, and you pressed your knees together.

Everything Megumi was made him unbelievably desirable, especially to someone like you. Someone who desired to be taken.

You knew that this environment, this … atmosphere, between you and him, especially considering what has already happened, was like fertile ground. Fertile enough to cultivate whatever brooding emotions were lying dormant in your soul.

What better companion to share them, to nurture them with than him? Someone like-minded, who shared your interests, desires, and tastes... someone extremely compatible with you.

The train screeched to a halt, snapping you out of your daze as you smirked to yourself while rising from your seat. You jostled through the heard of people leaving the train, headed up the stairs, emerging out of the hole in the ground and started on your journey a couple blocks from the station back home.

Megumi had taken you home that morning, waited for you while you got ready for work, and had given you a ride there, considering how much energy he'd drained from you the night AND morning before.

“It’s the very least I can do” he said, with that cute smirk. He had come up for just a second without coming inside, to grab a copy of your track so he could listen in the car while you got ready.

You can still remember how you felt as he gazed at you, leaning his head on the back of his seat while he assured you he’d be there waiting for you when you’re done.

He was all over you now. In your life, in your head, and in your heart, and you welcomed him.

As amazing as it was, It still felt strange to think you were so much closer to being an item. And even more strange to know that your feelings for him had been turned up to a level you’d never experienced before.

With this knowledge, there was one thing for absolute certain. You needed to maintain a distraction to keep your anxious attachment at bay. This was yet another “thing” for you.

Thanks a lot dad.

Trusting yourself to keep a healthy distance was a tall order, unfortunately. Needless to say, your past relationships had more than reflected that. It wasn’t something new.

Of course, you were talented and pretty, so it wasn’t like you couldn’t have ended up with a guy at some point if you really wanted to. A guy isn’t the same as your guy though.

It’s this one. He is the one you want.

Unfortunately, it was that part that scared you the most. It often felt like the one you want always got away somehow. Your clingy nature had betrayed you more than once, and you refused to allow it to fuck you over again. You had worked out a way to fight this. Kinda.

You’d decided to take your time, to relish him, living in the moment, enjoying him for who he is right now, staying as grounded as possible. That’s as good as it gets for now. Nothing is set in stone, so it’s best to relax and just be mindful.

Megumi’s beauty, his inner beauty and outer beauty was as clear as crystal. Yet it was also quite obvious that thinking he was perfect was far from reasonable.

Life is life, and you’re only human. It was only a matter of moments, minutes, seconds, before you crashed headlong into one or more of those things that make him tick, those things that you have no idea are there until they show up. Inevitably present in either him, or you.

It was great and all to run into someone who seemed to be a perfect match, but you understood that you were just as deserving of greatness as he is, so you vowed to yourself to maintain your grip, but a loose one.

As you reached the door of your apartment, a vibration rattled inside your bag as you shuffled through all the junk in it to find your phone.

“Hey girl!” Nobara’s bright, cheerful voice was a refreshing welcome, blossoming through your heavy thoughts.

“Hey! What’s up girl?”

“Where you at?” she asked.

“Literally just making it home from work.” you opened your door to your quite messy place, things strewn about everywhere from this morning as you hurried, trying not to force Megumi to wait forever for you to get ready.

“It’s been a few days since we talked. How did everything go with Megumi that night? Are you guys, ok?”

You took a deep breath, plopping down on the sofa. “More than ok. He’s…” you looked up toward the ceiling, closing your eyes as you searched your mind for the right word to describe exactly what you were feeling about him. “…satisfying”.

Nobara’s smile slowly spread across her face. Genuinely happy to hear the contentment in your voice. “Wow.” She chuckled, “Glad to hear it honey.”

“Yeah. Thank you so much. For everything.” You said to her, loving the fullness and warmth in your heart.

“Of course. You know I love you. I’m here for you girl. I really am happy for you. You deserve this.”

Your smile seemed to spread even wider at her kind words. “The vibe is just so... nice. I really don’t wanna screw this up.”

“You won’t. I’m willing to bet that you can’t even if you tried.”

Your brow furrowed a bit as you processed what she said. “What do you mean by that?”

Nobara huffed, “Well, I don’t think that would be the case if you were someone else… Someone with low morals, or if you were a jerk or something. But you’re a sweet person.”

She continued, “What do you think I could do, as a real friend, that would cause you to never speak to me again?”

You squinted a bit, pondering. “Um… nothing really... outside of killing me. Which would suck.” You chuckled.

“Uh yeah! See?” She said. “If he’s yours, he’s yours.”

You giggled “so profound, professor!”

“Hey, I’m just saying.”

“Nah, I get you.” You smiled, “I suppose you’re right.”

“So… on another note, I wanted to let you know, someone texted me, asking where you were after you left me.”

“Who?”

“Your dad.” She replied with a snarky tone.

The heavy sigh you released seemed a little too loud. “What did he say?”

“He just asked where you were. Said you didn’t answer when he called. I assume he might've had something important to talk about since he called me. You might wanna ask.”

“Hmmm…” you frowned, “That’s weird. I didn’t see a call or text from him. Okay, I’ll reach out. Thanks for letting me know. How is Yuji doing?”

“Tch. As sweet as ever. I’ll be seeing him a little later. Probably you, too right?”

“Um… Yeah, sure?” You didn’t know what she meant by that, since you hadn’t planned anything but figured it was a general statement.

“OK cool. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay!”

“Byeeee!”

*~*~*~*~*

You hopped out of the shower feeling refreshed, having had a small meal since you weren’t that hungry. You decided to text your dad to see what he wanted, opting not to call. If you did, it was highly likely you’d end up listening to him talk for hours.

You: Hey dad. Nobara told me you were looking for me?

Dad: Oh hey daughter! I couldn’t get a hold of you at the time so I thought maybe you were with her.

You: Oh, ok. Whats up?

Dad: I have a show to do, I wondered if you had some free time to sing backup for me.

You: I’m not sure. Can you send me the details for the event?

Dad: Ok I will!

You: Ttyl!

You set the phone down on the couch next to you, slightly confused at the sudden request. It was really strange for him to ask this now, since it had been so long since you’d worked with him. The first thing you thought was that he must have had a contact fall through, or someone quit.

That was typical.

He wasn’t exactly kind to his singers. Not all of the time. Especially if he was comfortable with them or under stress. Whenever something was off, or if they got a note or understanding of something wrong, he could be pretty mean.

You figured it was a good chance for you to get your feet back into the water though. Of course Megumi is guilty of inspiring that in you. Maybe you should just warm up the old chords again.

Just then, your phone vibrated again. Speak of the hottie.

Megz: wya

You: Hey. Home. Whats up?

Megz: Come to rehearsal.

You: Really? What time?

Megz: About 6?

You: At the studio?

Megz: Yup.

You: K… See you there.

Wow. You could feel your entire body beam. A rehearsal?

So exciting. You wondered what he's like in his element, what he’d look and sound like bossing around his band mates, and now you get to see what could be an entirely different side of him.

This is his work. His livelihood. And he’s sharing it with you. Just as before, you felt like he was opening up his world to you. Inviting you to be a part of it with no hesitation. It was nice.

But what about Maki and the guys? You wondered if they’d be just as comfortable with you all up in their space like that.

Not to mention how ridiculously nervous you were about letting him hear your track. You’d talked about it before, briefly, but you were thinking since he’d played it in his car, he could just give you a quick, useful critique or something. But he hadn't mentioned it.

God forbid he plays it in front of anyone else.

Oh my god, I’ll die… he wouldn’t do that.

You couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy since, in your experience, studios are obviously the place where new music is heard, rehearsed and perfected.

He’d better not. Seriously, Megumi. Please don’t.

You mumbled to yourself as you plugged in an Uber ride and got ready to go.

*~*~*~*~*

You arrived at the studio around a quarter after, hoping you wouldn’t walk in on an important part of a song and interrupt something.

Your body was filled with curiosity and nervousness, especially considering the last time you were here, Megumi was fucking the life out of you. In his office no less. Your eyebrows wrinkled as a shudder went through you at the thought of it.

Embarrassment also crept through each of your nerves as you approached, the sound of their loud instruments and Choso’s voice vibrating in a muffled cadence against the windows and door as they played

The Pretender - Foo Fighters

Which would be performed at their next show.

You grabbed the handle pulling it open, and to your surprise, Yuji and Nobara were standing in the doorway to the control room from the foyer, hanging out as the band played behind the glass shield in the live room.

Your eyes brightened, your nerves relaxing a bit as you approached them with a smile and an excited gleam in your eyes. “Heeeey!”

“Told you I’d see you later.” Nobara beamed back at you as you sauntered over toward her and Itadori.

“I had no idea until Megz invited me! I’m so glad to see you guys!”

“Ah I see.” Nobara giggled. “Made it a surprise huh?”

Your smile lit up the room. “Hey Yuji!”

“Hey sweetheart. How’ve you been? You’re glowing like a new moon!” He replied.

“Oh my god… Am I?” You questioned with a frown, rolling your eyes, your hands swiftly moving to cover your face.

“Uh… yeah?” Nobara added, the contagion of your smile reaching her first. “It’s a good look on you.”

Itadori huffed, “Yeah, you look pretty happy”.

You nodded, your lips pressing into a thin line as you blushed toward the floor.

Itadori’s smile also widened as he observed you attempting to hide the heavy pink in your cheeks.

You elbowed him as you leaned in, pushing his arm playfully. “Gimme a break, guys.” You murmured.

Yuji wrapped an arm around your shoulder, squeezing you close to him as he kissed you on your head. “I’m happy for you, babe.”

You caught a glimpse of Megumi watching you interact with your friends as you turned toward the glass window that allowed a clear view into the opposite room where the band played.

Your lips disappeared into your mouth as you made eye contact with him, and quickly averted your gaze as the pink filled your cheeks even deeper than they had a moment before.

As usual, Megumi’s eyes remained locked on to you, staring for what felt like far too long, smirking at your adorable shy face, granting you a quick upward nod before finally drawing his attention back to the guy next to him, who was apparently directing him.

Your heart thumped heavily in your chest. He made you feel like a love crazed schoolgirl. You continued to peek into the room where he sat at his kit as the guy you didn’t know talked to him, then turned to look at you, smiled, then turned his attention back to Megumi.

You were struck with curiosity and overwhelm as you observed the atmosphere, which felt was completely different compared to the last time you were there.

Obviously, more people and instruments were present, and the entire place, was lit up. Apparently Megumi had two kits here, one in the large main area of the studio, and one behind the glass where they recorded.

The band was back there with him going over their process, deciding which parts to replay. The director was apparently a guest producer that Megumi used as a neutral party to help him get everything recorded since he spent most of his time on that side of the window with the band.

Considering Megumi’s level of talent, and his high standards, the guy had to be just as excellent at his job, if not, better.

They all played their hearts out, as per usual, while you, Itadori, and Nobara sat quietly on the couch in the “control room”. The place looked beautifully professional. And … expensive.

You’d had plenty of experience working in different studios across the city, and understood many of the nuanced practices of performing, laying down, and mixing tracks in ones similar to this, but you could tell that Megumi and his family put a lot of time, energy, and money into this place.

You remembered what he’d mentioned before about bringing people here. You couldn’t imagine not monitoring and/or scrutinizing every soul that set foot into these rooms, let alone trusting them to begin with on the outset of inviting them here.

There were multiple mixing boards in the control room, computers, a couple guitars, and two keyboards. In the live room was several electric guitars, two acoustic electrics, two electric bass’ AND every band member was inside the “live room” holding an instrument.

There were multiple professional microphones including the ones in the isolation booths, as well as foot pedals, speakers, amps … you could go on. It was nuts.

There was money everywhere in here, and it was clear that every instrument was obviously used, yet close to pristine.

The room you sat in was comfy, which had a couple couches and a coffee table for guests, away from the music as to keep you from disrupting the recording.

It was amazing. You felt so special, being granted the opportunity to see this amazing band’s process, like being let in on exclusive content. It was only a matter of time, only a little time too, until they hit it big, and you could say you were here, at their beginning, witnessing even the hiccups and re-dos, and all the times they created something spectacular right on the spot.

The guy Megumi talked to was on his way out of an isolation booth, which was attached to the control room you were in. He was handsome, had a great vibe, and a warm smile. They seemed to get along really well. Megumi even smiled a lot more with him.

“Who is that guy?” you wondered, whispering to Yuji as you watched their interactions.

“That’s another one of Megumi’s good friends, Ino.” Yuji answered. “He also went to school with them, but graduated a year before Megumi left. He studied music production there and has a studio there also.”

“Wow.” You huffed, “No wonder”.

“No wonder what?” Yuji asked, hearing you thinking aloud.

“Oh, um, I was just thinking, ‘no wonder Megumi works with him’. He must really know his stuff.”

“Yeah for sure.” Itudori agreed. “You already know. Megz doesn’t play games when it comes to his work. Ino’s the same way.”

You couldn’t help but smile, watching him direct his attention to Maki and the others while twirling his sticks around between his fingers, as Ino now addressed the entire band.

He’s such a fucking badass.

… “God he’s hot.”…

Nobara’s eyes grew wide as she turned over to you, her mouth gaping open as she started to laugh.

“Oh, shit did I say that out loud?” you gasped as you covered your mouth with your hand, giggling.

“Girl, you are so funny!” She chuckled, rolling her eyes.

“My bad, I was just thinking and it slipped out!” You smirked. “He IS though… shit! I can't fucking contain myself!” you whispered, biting your lip.

Just then, Ino sauntered over to the mixing board interrupting your girl’s moment with the most serious, yet confident look on his face. “Hey there” he smiled, looking directly at you as he sat in the fancy swivel chair in front of the soundboard.

“Hey” you said, still giggling a little.

“I’m Ino.” He held his hand out to shake yours.

You shook his hand, gladly introducing yourself, excited to meet yet another extraordinary person, courtesy of Megumi.

“You’re coming out after this right?” he asked, turning toward the board as he tweaked a few knobs.

“Out?” Experiencing a little déjà vu, you asked, “out where?”

“Yeah,” Nobara agreed. “Time for another gathering” she expressed with a jump of her eyebrows. “Aaaand this time, I’m not wasted.”

“Yet.” Itadori interjected.

You let out a quick chuckle. “So where’s the meet-up this time?”

“Of course you don’t know.” Nobara added. “We’re going to Megumi’s”.

Your heart just about jumped out of your chest. All this time, you and Megumi had still not seen each other’s places.

Well, he saw the outside of yours that morning he walked you out of here and drove you home so that he could take you to work, but he didn’t come in. He said something about it being your personal space and he didn’t want to invade it until you were ready.

Damn charmer, right?

You’ll see his personal space now. Yet another one of his personal spaces. But with your friends… and his band… so… it wasn’t like… he was making it personal for you.

Your mouth hung open a bit as you processed the idea of being in Megumi’s home. Where he sleeps every night. Where he rests his head. I mean, you definitely didn’t want just anyone wandering around in your personal space, and knowing Megumi, he didn’t decide to invite just anyone over on a whim.

His selection is always curated. Just as it is for you. And it wouldn’t be a far fetched notion to presume he had instruments there, too.

You now understood how he felt about coming into your place. But this was … fun. Exciting.

You glanced over at the clear window into the next room where he sat, only to see him, yet again, staring over in your direction. It was as if he was waiting for your reaction to the invite.

Maki called him after a few moments, ripping his gaze from you. He looked over to see what he needed just as Ino was instructing them to finish the last song.

“Ok one more and then we’ll hear the new song.”

“New song? They’re doing another one?” you asked, curious.

“I dunno.” Nobara answered.

You were actually pretty excited to hear it, hoping it was one of the originals they've been doing. It was, the one you walked in on Megumi playing the last time you came here.

Lippincott - Animals As Leaders

They all laid it down perfectly, even Choso took part even though it was an instrumental, wrapping up that ridiculously complicated song.

“Okay, you’re up”. Ino said.

You looked at him, then looked around as if there ware another person near you that you didn’t realize was there.

“Excuse me? Are –” you looked over at Yuji then at Nobara, “are you talking to me?”

“Yup” Ino said with a little smirk.

“Up?” You squinted, “Up for – what exactly?”

“Why don’t you go talk to Megz for a sec?” he replied.

You looked over to Megumi as he simpered toward you.

You’ve got to be kidding me…

All you could think was ‘this sure as hell better not be what I think it is’. He wouldn’t do that, right? Reality hitting you as you got up to go talk to him.

What the hell were you feeling? You decided it was definitely fear, mixed with some other things… you looked over to Nobara for some understanding, mouthing the words “what the hell is going on?” confusion showing up all over your face.

Yeah, that’s what it was. The extra feeling was frustration. Maybe even anger. But you weren’t sure how to place it yet so you decided not to panic.

Though that was crazy, since you were walking into a live studio with a boatload of professional performers in the middle of a place you’ve only been in once to fuck the greatest man you’d ever known.

What the hell?

You creeped over toward the door, Megumi sitting at his kit behind a shield. Maki, Toge, Yuta and Choso were all in this room as well, chatting amongst themselves while you nervously approached Megumi, freaking out.

“What is going on?” you whispered to him, genuinely confused, but also scared as hell.

“Don’t be mad.” Megumi said as you approached him.

“What?” You replied, looking around feeling like you were the last person to know what was happening.

“I just… I let Inumaki hear your track, and he agreed to play it for you. I was hoping you’d sing it while we’re here.”

“What?! Are you kidding me?” your eyes were like a deer's in headlights.

“You can say no. I promise, its ok… I just … I was hoping you’d just let me master it for you.”

You hid your face in your hand, hoping the gesture would make you completely invisible. “Yeah. I’m gonna have to pass.”

“Please… let me take care of it for you?” His voice and expression was so sincere it almost pissed you off.

“Megumi…” you whispered, a little louder than necessary, but with a nervous smile. “Out of nowhere like this? You didn’t give me time to prepare or anything. I didn’t even know you were having rehearsal today until last minute!” You finished with a grimace as you turned your face toward him so only he could see it.

“Are you sure? I mean, Ino can just…”

“No Megumi.” you interrupted. “You said I can say no,” your eyebrows raised as you looked around the room, leaning further in to him, whispering, hoping no one could hear you. “… so I’m saying ‘no’. this feels too forced. I don’t like it.”

Megumi’s big dark blues looked down quickly at his sticks, then back up at you as they squinted slightly, a small grimace forming on his lips. “Okay.’

“Can we please talk about this later?” It was as if you could feel all of the eyes in the rooms on you and him.

“Of course.” He answered, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned on your heels, and walked back to the other room, to your spot next to Nobara, your lips pressing into a straight line as you approached the couch, sitting down slowly and leaning in to her, extremely embarrassed by that interaction.

“Is everything ok?” Nobara asked, a troubled look on her face.

“I think so… I’m not sure.” You answered with a small frown, feeling as if the room was closing in on you.

Ino looked over to Megumi who actually, for the first time, appeared embarrassed himself. His face taking on the appearance of a child who had just been scolded. He maintained that look of serious thought as he stared down at his sticks for a moment, his brow furrowing a bit.

He glanced up at Toge, who appeared to be waiting for his queue from him. Megumi quickly, almost unnoticeably shook his head, then turned his attention to Ino, who apparently understood.

“Well, um… Okay then.” Ino continued. “Let’s listen to the last take of the first song again, see if you guys are ok with it, and I think we’re done.”

*~*~*~*~*

As you sat, processing what had just happened, you remembered you had to find out from your dad about his event.

Happy to have an excuse to escape from the tense environment, you excused yourself from the room to call. You noticed there was poor reception on the phone inside the studio. Only one bar displaying the closer you moved toward the front door.

It now made sense that your dad couldn’t reach you before, since you came here after meeting with Nobara that night when you missed his call.

You gave him a call, tapping the green button just as you reached the front door. It was fine though, as you had no desire to cause any interruptions in their performance.

“Hello, Daughter.” Your dad chimes in, sounding quite cheerful.”

“Hey. How’s it going?”

“Do you have time to chat?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks for calling. Our performance is this Saturday. I was hoping you could perform your song with us as well as background on songs you already know. We’re having a quick rehearsal with the band tomorrow night.”

“Saturday? And tomorrow? So soon...”

“Well, you might have guessed, someone quit on me.” He ended his statement with a loud hearty laugh.

“Oh. Uh… Well… I have a show that I’d already planned to go to this Saturday.”

“Our performance is early in the day. It’s for a wedding, so I can’t delay it or find anyone else soon enough to replace them.”

“Oh… well… okay. I think I can manage that, as long as it’s ok that I leave by 5.”

“Yeah! I’m doing the reception also that evening, but you don’t have to be there for that. Just the wedding, since they requested that one specifically.”

“Sounds good. Where is the rehearsal going to be tomorrow?”

“It’ll be at my house. And you may not need to stay for more than an hour or so.”

“Okay”

“Are you at a show now? I can hear music…”

“Well, I’m actually at a friend’s studio right now.”

“Really? What friend?”

“You don’t know him. I met him a few months ago. He’s a great a–”

“Hey I’m gonna have to go I’m sorry, I was supposed to be back thirty minutes ago. I’ll talk to you later, ok?”

Figures.

“That’s fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

As you gripped the phone in your hand, you lowered your arm to your side as it swung like a pendulum. You rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath then closing them, turning your face up toward the ceiling.

Par for the course with him. The second you begin speaking about anything that doesn’t revolve around him, he’s completely uninterested, or has no time for it. It would be so nice if he’d care about or get involved in your life. Just a little.

You noticed the sound system on low as usual in this main room, the foyer of this studio as it played

Smile Like That – Esperanza Spalding

You suddenly hear the door open. Nobara walks over to you quietly, with an odd sense of urgency. She grabbed your hand, turning you toward the door.

“It’s time for you to come back inside” she said, as she let go of your hand while simultaneously turning the knob.

You entered the room, noticing Toge, Yuta, and Maki talking with Yuji, while Choso chatted at the soundboard next to Ino.

Megumi, however, still sat at his kit on the phone, smiling from ear to ear. You looked at him with a squint, tilting your head, then turned back to Nobara.

She looked back at you with a straight face, one of her eyebrows raised and whispered, “He said ‘what is it Nanako’, when he answered.” She crossed her arms, looking back through the window at him. “look, it might be nothing, but … I just thought you should be aware.”

He was sitting, slightly hunched at his kit, with one of the biggest smiles on his face that you’ve seen in a while.

What the hell is happening? Is he serious right now? What the fuck could be so funny if he’s talking to his ex?

You felt your stomach begin to turn. Along with the trajectory of this whole night apparently. You were beginning to feel a pretty ugly emotion take over. One that made you considerably uncomfortable.

You looked away from him, inexplicably disgusted for a second, down to the floor as you bit the inside of your jaw, and as your eyes made their way back up, they happened to land on Choso’s face.

“Hey singer!” he joked, as a huge smile spread across his lips.

You took a deep breath, licked your lips glanced back over at Megumi, then back down to the floor as you contemplated what your next move should be.

Choso glanced over at Megumi, then back at you, as his smile faded. He slowly stood up from his chair and walked over to you, “Hey. Everything ok?” he asked with a tiny wrinkle between his brows, His voice much kinder than you’d probably ever heard it since you met him.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you swallowed hard, taking another deep breath before answering, worried that the sound may not carry the way you needed it to.

“Uh… You know…” you looked up at Choso’s surprisingly concerned face as you smirked nervously. “I’m not sure. I think I’ll head home.”

“Do you need a ride?” He asked, a tiny frown on his face.

“Yeah, there are a couple cars here that can get you where you need to go.” Nobara offered.

“No, sweetie it’s fine. You stay with Yuji, k? I want you to have fun”. You turned to Choso. “Hey, are you having company? I don’t want to cause you trouble, too.”

“No, I’m not. And it’s nothing, don’t worry. Just let me know when you’re ready. Ok?”

You nodded a couple times, flashed him a smile, and he wandered back over to sit next to Ino.

You were pleasantly surprised at his behavior, especially his consideration toward you. It seems Yuji was right about him.

Megumi was apparently having an interesting conversation. He barely looked up from the phone. Whatever, or whoever it was damn sure had him pretty enamored.

You found yourself in the same place as in the beginning. A spot where you didn’t wanna make “it” your business. It was time to go.

You took a few slow steps over to the window where he sat and knocked twice. He looked up, his smile fading almost immediately as he caught the not-so-happy expression on your face.

You flashed him a quick peace sign. And turned around to leave, motioning to Choso that you were ready with a quick upward nod.

“Love you. I’ll call you tomorrow” Nobara said with disquieted eyes as she held out her arms to hug you goodbye.

“K.” you felt her warmth in the hug.

She squeezed you extra hard, “It’ll work itself out. Don’t worry, ok? Just trust yourself.” She whispered as Choso walked over to open the door to the main room for you.

You stepped through after waving goodbye to Itadori and the others.

Closer To Me – H.E.R.

was now playing on the system. Just as you and Choso made it to the middle of the main room, Megumi reached you. The door to the control room closing behind him.

“Hey! You’re leaving?” he asked, apparently genuinely confused.

“Yeah” you huffed softly. “I have to get up early and I uh, I have a commitment that I have to keep for tomorrow night, so…” you said as you nodded toward the door, avoiding his gaze.

Megumi glanced toward Choso, squinting as he addressed you. “I can take you if you really need to leave now.”

“Well,” you looked up at him square in the eyes. “you seem a little… preoccupied. I’d hate to be a distraction.”

Choso’s eyes dropped to the floor, then back up at Megumi, then you. “I’ll give you guys a minute.” He said, as he made his way back into the control room.

The vibe was so awkward. It was starting to annoy you.

Still, you didn’t know exactly what to say. Why would he be talking to his ex while you’re waiting for him? How could he do that while you were there, kekeing in your face with another chick?

It was … disrespectful to say the least. And flat out made you uncomfortable.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

“You looked away, your lips disappearing into your mouth as you inhaled, then exhaled.”

“Please look at me.”

You turned your hesitant gaze toward him.

“If something’s on your mind, I really wish you’d say so.” He said, quite nonchalantly.

“I don’t like drama, Megumi.” It felt as if your breath was leaving your body faster than you could use it to form your words.

It was like anything you said to him would sound like a complaint. You didn’t wanna speak. Not because you didn’t have anything to say, but expending the energy to do so seemed like … too much. The thought of it was exhausting.

You stood there, arms crossed around the strap of your bag and your jacket, staring into his eyes.

He stood before you, frozen, his expression blank. His hands stuffed in the pockets of his oversized grey sweatpants, the ankles at the hem almost swallowing his black and white converse, the waistline covered by the hem of his thick black hoodie.

He seemed to have all the time in the world as he waited patiently for you to say what was on your mind.

“Why … did you invite me here?” you asked, bluntly. You figured getting this over with quickly would be the least tiring route.

“Because I wanted you here.”

“To see you flirting on the phone?”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

You rolled your eyes, pausing for a moment, taking another deep breath. “Look. I’m not your boss.”

“Yes, you are.”

“What?” you huffed.

“Tell me what you need.”

“I need a ride home.”

“I’ll take you. What else?”

“I need you to not embarrass me in front of your friends, by forcing me to do something important without discussing it with me.”

“Done. He frowned. And I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Who were you talking to?”

“Nanako.”

“Why?”

“She called, asking about Ino, and whether he would be staying here overnight.”

“Is that what was so funny?”

“Were you upset that I was laughing?”

“At her? Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because if you’re mine, you’re mine.”

You could see Megumi forcing back a smile, as he blushed ever so slightly down toward the floor.

“…it won’t happen again.” he smirked, looking back up at you.

“Are you going to answer my question?” you asked, pointedly.

“Of course. Her sister jumped on the line in an attempt to convince me to not be too hard on her, while also mocking her. I thought it was funny. I wasn’t talking to Nanako at that point.”

“Fine. But if she wants to talk to Ino, what is she calling you for?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. I’ll address that, too.”

You looked away.

Megumi’s eyes grew smaller as he gazed at your pouty face, his bottom lip disappearing into his mouth.

“Come home with me.” He asked, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Maybe another time.”

“Please?”

“No.”

His tangible gaze never left your face as he smirked. “Okay. I’ll take you to your place … for now.”

You cut your eyes at him slightly. “Thank you.”

*~*~*~*~*

The ride home was pretty quiet. The deep blue console of his quite beautiful sleek black ride lit up your faces in the night as

Coco Jones – Double Back

played on his system. You worked hard to keep your eyes on the road, or at least on the dark features of the different people of all shapes and sizes whooshing by, along with the nightlife lights, casting various shadows as you stared out the window. The cool evening breeze glided across your skin, gently tousling your hair.

As you stole glances over at Megumi, you couldn’t help but notice how amazing he looked just driving. His long legs stretching out from under the steering wheel, his thighs resting far apart, surely providing “him” some breathing room for that beautiful bulge peeking out from under his thick grey sweatpants.

His full, long, veiny hands rested on the steering wheel as he drove you safely where you needed to go. As you approached a stop light, your eyes traveled up from his legs, to his hands, up his arms, to his face, only to find him staring back at you. As he propped his elbow up on the window, turned toward you, his body mimicked the same position he had that first night backstage after his show, when he sat next to you on the couch.

Your gaze lingered a couple seconds longer than necessary, as you pressed your knees together, rubbing the side of your neck as you turned to look out the window.

It’s so hard with him. It felt nearly impossible to rip your mind away from him. But you had to get back. Tonight was … different. And you needed some space for now.

As disappointing it was to realize, apparently Nanako is still a factor somehow, and you were going to find out exactly how much of a factor she is. Lingering exes is a “no” for you. Megumi pulled up to your door, parked the car, and got out.

What is he doing?

You were surprised to find that he was making his way over to open your door for you.

“Thank you” you said, as you stepped out onto the pavement, the cool air hitting you a little harder than expected. You hadn’t realized how hot your body was becoming, sitting next to him in the car.

He closed the door as you stepped out, looking down at you, a tiny smile playing at his lips. “Will you be at the show on Saturday night?”

“Mhm. I’ll see you there.”

“Okay. Goodnight”.

“Goodnight Megumi.”

His eyes followed your figure as you walked up to your apartment door. You fumbled for your keys for a moment, finally finding them and unlocking it.

You turned to see Megumi leaning against his car, hands in his pockets, waiting for you to get safely into your house before he got back in and pulled away.

*~*~*~*~*

You rolled around on your bed, having kicked off your thick blankets. Your mind reeling.

Ugh, what is my problem?

You turned over toward your bedside table, the small light brightly illuminated on your clock, which displayed four am.

You remembered that your bestie spent last night at Megumi’s. You wondered if she and Itadori had stayed over. Your mind wandered to what Megumi was doing, and if Nanako had called him again.

It was so irritating to not be able to keep him off of your mind. You turned to lay on your back, your eyes fixed onto the ceiling, your fan whirring slowly above you. You tossed your arm over your eyes as your Bluetooth played

I’m Not OK – H.E.R.

quietly. You sat up and slid your bunny slippers on in one quick motion to grab some water from the kitchen. Suddenly the room felt extra cold for some reason. Your hand gripped the edge of the counter, the cold sending a chill up your spine. You gulped down your water, placed your glass in the sink, and headed back to the bed. You lay there, sprawled out, facing the ceiling.

As your lids lowered back over your eyes, Megumi’s face flashed into your memory. His eyes gazing intently at you as you confronted him about his behavior. How can he be so beautiful while pissing you off? He’s always so goddamned chill.

You recalled his body as he drove you here in his sleek black car. The way he stared back at you, the feelings that rushed through you as you made eye contact.

Your hands made their way down between your inner thighs. You realized your body was hot. Your thoughts, full of him. Your hand continued to rub the inside of your legs, sliding up toward your clothed center. You slid your fingers up and down your slit, grazing across, slightly teasing your clit. You flinched, as a visual of Megumi’s long fingers and his sexy smirk crossed your mind.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your brow furrowing as you squeezed your legs closed over your hand, trapping it between your thighs.

Ugh… stop it.

You said to yourself, Go to sleep. Please.

You hand reached up to grab the side of your neck, as you thought of how thick his bulge looked under his pants. You recalled the feeling of his long fingers wrapped around your neck. Chills covered your body, your hand gliding down toward your chest as you gripped your breast, a moan escaping your lips before you bit it.

Your other hand reached up to grab the other breast, as your fingers pinched the hardened buds. An image of him looking up at you from between your legs flashed into your head. Your body trembled as your breathing hitched, your thighs rubbing together as your core clenched.

No, girl.

You moaned as your clit seemed to get more sensitive by the second, your thighs pressing against it making you flinch.

Not now. Just go to sleep already!

You peeled your hands away, curling up into the fetal position, locking your hands under your cheek. You let out a big sigh, you asked yourself why you were so uneasy. Yes, you wanted Megumi. You always wanted him.

But you didn't need to be so … anxious though. Why are you like this? You really only had one answer.

Your family had worked so much of that shit into you, it was really hard to break away from. And you could only do so much on your own. The fastest way you could think of to get past it is to dive in and face it all head on.

What you really didn’t want, is to hurt anyone in the process of you figuring things out. You cared so much about your friends that you truly didn’t want them caught in the crossfire. But what could you do?

They had already scolded you before for backtracking. “Trust yourself” that’s what Nobara said. But how, when you feel you’ve betrayed your own best interest so many times?

It was so scary thinking you’d have to sing in that environment, directly in front of such professionals when you really hadn’t even rehearsed, and wasn’t even told about it. You weren’t even sure you wanted to sing that one if at all. It really was that part that bothered you the most. Not so much Megumi asking you to do it, but how you felt doing it at all.

Did I overreact?

Maybe, but… it’s easy to apologize. And Megumi seems to be a reasonable guy. He still should have told you first, though. Your brain was turning thoughts of these things over and over in your head.

You picked up your phone, thinking you should text something to him, only to find that he had texted you at two thirty-seven a.m.

Megumi: I really am sorry for upsetting you. Forgive me.

You sigh to yourself in an attempt to calm the obvious fire in your damn loins, rolling your eyes and shaking your head to yourself as you drift back into sleep.

*~*~*~*~*

“So, how was everything last night?” You asked.

“It was amazing, actually.” Nobara replied, chomping on her snack she was having in the middle of her lunch break at work. “Well, Dori and I had a great time. Megumi is super hospitable. Had food there for us and everything. It was nice… sorry.”

You giggled “Why are you apologizing?”

She whined “I’m sorry about what happened! I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I admit, I felt some kinda way about him being on the phone with Nanako too, but it wasn’t my place to stir anything up.”

You smiled, “Its ok. Thank you for saying that, but it was my responsibility to stay cool. You know you’re my girl, and I love you. I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“Yeah, but … you know me!” She continued, “I got ahead of myself. I had to apologize to Megumi, too by the way. I felt so bad for getting up in your business.”

“Yes, I do know you, and that’s exactly why its ok. Really.”

“He said that, too.” She huffed. “Are you on your way to your dads?”

“Yeah. It won’t take long. I already know the songs we’re doing, and there aren’t many. I have to sing one solo. I practiced a bit before work. Been drinking warm water all day and doing warmups.”

“Mmm. … Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, whats up?”

“Why didn’t you wanna sing last night? Megumi told me.”

You paused for a minute while considering it. “Scared.” You huffed. “That’s basically it. Plain old fear.” You uttered as you rolled your eyes. “Part of me was annoyed and upset at Megumi for putting me on the spot like that, but mostly it was just me freaking out. I didn’t wanna screw up too bad in front of everyone.”

“Why so worried, though? You’ve done this like a million times.”

“I know. I just… I think I’m also like, putting him on a pedestal. It sucks. I’m fucking irritating myself.”

Nobara giggled, “I totally get it. I felt like that around Yuji when I first met him. I ran from the bar every time I ordered from him, freaking out about how hot he is like some teenager.”

You chuckled, “He’s is super adorable. Can’t blame you for that.”

“You just need an icebreaker or something to help you get over it. Even though you guys have already slept together…”

“Yeah, I know. They’re just so good at what they do. I’d want to make the best impression.”

“I have an idea.” Nobara chuckled to herself, “sorry, I just said I didn’t wanna stir anything up and here I go again!”

“What? tell me.”

"Why don’t you ask him to come to the wedding?”

You pondered the idea for a second. And of course it made you nervous. “You think I should?”

“Well, you’ll already be singing, mostly in your comfort zone with your dad’s band, and if he comes, it’ll just be him and not his whole group.”

“Hmmm,” you giggled. “Really?”

“Do it. Seems like a chance for you to break the ice a bit more and relax around him. Especially while you’re essentially in the middle of doing something you love.”

“Yeah. It definitely still makes me nervous. But its worth a try for sure.” You smirked for just a second as you thought about something. “Not you and Itadori being my relationship coaches lately…”

“Girl, look!” Nobara chuckled, “Whatever works, ok? I’m here for you, and I’m sure he is, too! Go for it. We’re rooting for you guys.”

“Thank you, love. I really appreciate you guys, too.” You replied.

“I’m gonna get back to work.” Nobara grunted. “Weekend’s almost here! I’ll see you Saturday night?”

“Yup!”

“Talk to you later.”

“K!”

*~*~*~*~*

You arrived at your dads home, and as you approached the door, you could hear music thrumming from inside. You walked right in, since he usually kept the door unlocked for artists as they arrived. It was likely a knock wouldn’t be heard over the music.

Upon entry, you waved at everyone, saying hello as you looked around for a place to sit. His full 5 piece band was present, and 3 backup singers, only one of which you knew.

“Hey! How are you?” your dad asked, as he saw you come in.

The drummer, bass and guitar players were rehearsing a specific part. You found a seat, and waited patiently for them to finish as you spoke to the singer you knew.

You’d forgotten how much you loved the smell of instruments collected in a space, and the feeling of accomplishment you got, from even arriving at a rehearsal.

Being part of a group that has a similar goal, knowing you had a performance to do, and that people would be waiting to see you was always a satisfying thrill to you.

You wondered why you didn’t feel this right away when you arrived at Megumi’s studio. It’s almost as if you forget yourself when you’re around him. He’d drawn you in so much, that you forgot to relax.

The rehearsal went smoothly for the most part, you laughed and joked around with the girls, even at some of the jokes that were made by some of the band members at your dad’s expense.

Then it was time for him to teach the girls a part for one of the songs. You knew your dad had a tendency to forget things sometimes as he played. It might have simply been his old age, but he’d often play something, ask the group to execute it, change it, then get angry when it was done the original way.

It happened on several occasions, and each time, he’d take his frustration out on the musicians. Yet another reason you didn’t care much to work with him.

He taught the part he wanted you all to learn, played in C, but then changed it to C#. They didn’t quite understand how to execute it and kept singing it in C when the chord progression changed.

It was a common mistake for many singers to make, especially when one of them was consistently louder than the others, and inadvertently caused confusion.

However, the way your dad handled it was less than desirable. “Whats goin’ on here?” he asked with a frown, pacing back and forth in front of the group. “How are you not getting this?”

The girl you knew, Joy, answered, “I feel like we get it, we just have a habit of singing it a certain way and need a minute to learn the new way.”

“Yeah, but” your dad continued, “Y'all sang it once correctly but you keep reverting back to the original key! Its not that hard.” He turned to you, and asked you to do it as he sat at his keyboard.

He played the progression, and you sang it in C#. He still managed to get upset. “Why are you singing it like that?”

“What?” you looked at him in confusion. “That’s the way you just told us to do it.”

He stood there for a moment, cutting his eyes at you. “No – are you kidding me?! Y'all ain't gon’ make a fool out of me on MY stage. People are coming to see me, not y’all messing up.”

Joy looked at you, as she was the only other person singing it correctly, and all you could do was nod to her in agreement and roll your eyes at the way he was treating you all. The tension in the air was thick, and exhausting.

The entire band could see how erroneous his behavior was, and you were honestly glad that you weren’t the only one to witness it this time. When it was time to go, you were more than happy to leave.

*~*~*~*~*

Thinkin Bout You - Frank Ocean

played as you sat on your bed, exhausted after having your shower, ready to go to sleep. You thought about Megumi. He’d danced around in your head the entire time you were at the rehearsal. The difference between his methods of teaching and your dad’s were like night and day.

You decided to call him this time.

“Hello?”

The sound of his voice was like music to your ears. It was like your heart lit up, and illuminated your entire body. “Hey. You busy?”

“Hey there.” He sounded happy to hear from you. “not for you. How are you?”

“I’m actually pretty exhausted to be honest.” You said with a sigh.

“Oh yeah? Your hot date not go well?”

“What?”

He chuckled softly. “You said you had a commitment to keep tonight, right?”

“Oh, yes. But it definitely wasn’t that.” You retorted with a huff.

“That’s good to know. So, what happened?”

“I just had a rehearsal with my father.”

“Oh wow… How did that go?”

“It was … a lot” you sighed again. I’m glad to be home. And so happy to hear your voice.”

“Hmmm… well, I’m sorry to hear you had a hard time. But I’m glad to hear yours too.”

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure.”

“Would you be willing to come to a wedding tomorrow?”

“Wow. This is so sudden. But my answer is still ‘yes’”

You laughed at his joke. “Not mine, silly. I have to sing a solo there, and I wanted to ask you if you’d like to come”.

He paused, for what felt like a full minute. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” You smiled. “I’d actually love for you to come if you can. I know you have your show tomo –”

“I’d love to come. Thank you for inviting me. Sounds exciting.”

“Exciting? It’s a stuffy wedding.”

“Yeah, but I get to hear you sing. LIVE. I can’t wait.”

You blushed so hard you could swear he’d see it over the phone. “It starts at 11am.”

“Can I drive you?”

“You’d do that?”

“You have no idea what I’d do for you.”

“Okay. It’s a date.” You sat in silence for a moment, feeling his presence over the phone. “And then I get to see you perform.”

“Yes. So we’ll be together all day?” He asked, excitedly.

“Is that what you want?”

“That’s what I want.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.” You agreed. “I also, would like to apologize.”

“For what?”

“I feel like I… overreacted a little last night. I still wanted you to talk to me first, but I got scared and freaked out. I’m sorry for that.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I should have asked first.”

“I also… miss you” you felt your heart skip a beat at your own admission. You both sat with the phone between you, listening to the silence on the other end as you relaxed in that moment. You were happy to have let him know how you truly feel.

Megumi took a deep breath over the phone, intentionally, it seemed, as if he wanted you to hear it. … “I miss you, too.” He replied, softly.

“Come and get me at ten, okay?”

“Sharp.”

*~*~*~*~*

You were ready by nine thirty.

Finally, your weekend was here.

You were so tempted to have a mimosa with your one waffle and one egg you ate for breakfast. God forbid you ate too much, ridding yourself of space in your belly for “air” you’d need while singing, and you didn’t want to hurl from freaking out.

You had some “Throat Coat” tea, warm but not hot, and sipped plenty of water. Hopefully not too much, since you’d end spending more time in the bathroom than you would at the microphone.

The butterflies fluttered in your belly, relentlessly tickling your insides, keeping you from settling down.

Megumi would be there any minute, and you couldn’t be more nervous. So much happening at once, a performance, a solo, one you had to do with your dad no less, it had been a while for you, and you were doing this in front of your new guy, someone you respected as a talented artist.

If you were honest, what you felt was a blend of excitement and pure nerves. It was practically like an official date, and you really missed hanging out with him, but it was all so overwhelming.

Your dress was simple, sleek and form fitting, a bodycon, black, asymmetrical neckline, while your hair was pulled back in a beautiful messy braid, the tail of it traveling down toward the middle of your back. You had all of your earrings in, four up one ear and five up the other, with a chain linking from your helix to your lobe.

Then, finally, a knock at the door.

You clicked over to it in your black 4.5” open toe stiletto’s, stood there for a moment, took a deep breath, and opened it.

You stood there, holding your breath for a minute, as a hard line formed between Megumi’s brows as he took in the sight of you.

You released your breath, a smile spreading across your face. “Hey.”

“Wow.” He stood in the doorway, gazing, his eyes traveling up and down your form as his lips parted.

As you motioned for him to come in, he covered his mouth with his hand. And turned his head to the right, grabbing his lips. He stuffed both of his hands in his pockets as he hung his head low.

You closed the door as he walked in, flattening out any wrinkles in your dress with your hands.

With his head in that position, he licked his lips and looked up at you with a smirk. “You look absolutely ravishing”.

His smile was breathtaking.

He was wearing a slightly oversized black v-neck cashmere sweater, the fabric settling beautifully on the curves of his chest, relaxed at the hem, scrunched up in the middle of his forearms. His pants were a slim fit, black, and tapered at the ankle, not his usual baggy attire, but still his style, and fit him beautifully.

His Doc. Martens were perfectly black, as was his hair, sleek and still spikey, but styled a little differently, concentrated to the left, shorter spiked strands reaching for his face on the right side, contrasting against his slightly pale skin and beautiful dark blue eyes. He looked as hot as he did the very first time you saw him. Only a little more … shiny.

“And you look… like…” you bit your bottom lip as you looked him up and down.

Megumi walked over to you slowly, his chest stopping less than an inch from your face. He looked down into your eyes. “What do I look like?”

“Like, uh…” you shook your head, at a loss for words.

His hands reached up to your neck, his fingers snaking around to your nape, his thumb pressing your chin up. His lips hovered close enough to steal breath from between yours. You leaned in, pressing your lips against his. The sensation piercing straight to your core.

It felt like it had been an eternity since you’d kissed him. It was as if you could finally breathe again.

His lips were soft and warm as they pressed gently and sensually against you, landing several kisses before parting yours slightly, his tongue requesting entry. You were more than happy to invite him inside. He slipped his tongue in, sliding it across yours.

The taste of his kiss was like receiving drops of cool water after nearly dying of thirst. Every stroke of his tongue left you wanting more, you opened your mouth wider, tilting your head back, melting into his arms as he pressed forward granting your wish.

His hand remained around your neck, as you always loved it to be, as his other hand curved around your waist, pulling you even closer. Feeling his body against yours made you weak, his stiff member pressing against the curves of your belly.

You wanted nothing more in this moment than to open up to him completely as his strong arms maintained their firm hold your body.

But he broke the kiss, trailing them along your jaw as his lips reached your earlobe where he planted a single kiss. His arm wrapped around you tighter, as his hand gripped you at your waist, fingers digging in, tickling your side. “We’d better go… before I lose control and devour you right here”.

Your heart skipped a beat, electricity surging through your veins as he spoke. What this man does to your body is sometimes inexplicable. But he was right. It’s time to go, or you’ll become extremely irresponsible in this moment.

You let out a heavy sigh, lifting your head up as he held you, looking into his eyes with a sultry gaze, suddenly feeling a surge of confidence. “Then let’s go, baby.” You whispered. Then leaned over to the couch, grabbing your bag and jacket.

*~*~*~*~*

The building was filled to capacity, the low hum of individual conversations floating throughout the beautiful, bright space. The wedding was being held in a large church, majestic and pretty, decorated with the couple’s chosen themed colors, florals and fabrics.

Love You Like I Do – Vancouver Sleep Clinic

played in the background.

The platform you were positioned on was set up high in the back of the building. The band was on the right side of the platform. Your dad at the grand piano to the left of you, the band to the left of him while the other singers were slightly behind you to the right.

Megumi was in the audience, surprisingly close to the front, having taken the seat of someone who conveniently didn’t show up. An enormous grin plastered across his face the entire time as he sat wide-eyed, watching your every move.

Every few minutes or so, you’d see him chatting with the elderly woman sitting next to him, her smile clear evidence of his charming nature. He’d look up periodically, lock eyes with you, smirk, and flash his teeth. You’d chuckle each time, rolling your eyes.

Nobara was right. You could feel some of the disconcerting tension melting away the longer he spent in your presence.

Suddenly you hear your dad, snapping at one of the helpers for not getting him a water when he’d asked. Your smile slowly fading as you saw the frustration on the face of the person he’d yelled at.

“Y/N! Can you get me one of the waters I asked for? PLEASE!” he practically screamed across the stage.

Your eyes flicked over to Megumi, who was watching you intently, his eyebrows wrinkled, and a squint in his eyes.

You looked down toward the floor in embarrassment as you got up from your seat, walking off of the stage to help them grab the waters. “I’m sorry about this” you whispered to the helper, resting your hand on their shoulder.

“Don’t apologize to them! That’s their job! They should have this stuff ready for me!” your dad yelled down from the stage.

The helper looked at you, “We had to wait until they brought them back from the grocery store. There was someone assigned to bring them, and they forgot. I’m sorry” he uttered.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. We have them now. It’s not a big deal. Thank you so much for providing them for us.” You whispered to him. You took a deep breath, and the waters, and walked them back up to the stage, passing them out to each of the band members, your dad snatching one from your hand.

You sat back down in your stool, waiting for the announcement of the bride. I just wanna get this over with. Is all you could think, as you squeezed your hands together, and slowly breathed in and out, working to relax your mind again.

You glanced out toward Megumi. He was now sitting back against his seat, arms crossed, his eyes locked on you. A frown in his forehead and his lips scrunched up in the corner of his mouth.

Your lids fell over your eyes a bit as you observed his obvious concern. You mouthed the words “Don't worry. It's okay.” a smile tugging at your lips.

Finally, the announcer said, “May I ask everyone to please stand for the bride?”

Butterflies tickled your belly as you stood, locking eyes with Megumi again as you approached the microphone, your smile now spreading wider. It was a beautiful thing; his presence alone, knowing he was there for you, made this experience exponentially more tolerable.

Everyone turned toward the front of the church as the doors opened for the beautiful bride, Megumi being one of the only people still facing the stage, his dark blues glued to your face. Your father played the intro, you took a breath, closed your eyes, and began singing:

Fall In – Esperanza Spalding

After singing your first line, your eyes opened slowly to the very spot Megumi stood. You maintained fierce eye contact with him as his widened. Your beautiful notes filled the room, echoing off of the walls, rounding out the sounds of the notes flowing from the piano.

Megumi's face dropped toward the floor, looking back up toward you with a beautiful blush as you continued to sing to him.

Your hands reached up toward the handle of the microphone, sliding up and down the stand as you became more engulfed in the song, your chest rising and falling with your breaths. Your eyes never left his, even for a second as you sang from the depths of your heart.

As the bride made her way to her beloved, Megumi's blue eyes came more clearly into view as he stood frozen in place, his gaze growing more intense. You leaned into this moment, enjoying the effect you and your beautiful song had on him.

You felt completely in sync with him again. Your connection had always been empowering, with him always being an inspiration. But today, the feelings rooted in your heart for him seemed to dig themselves deeper, spreading out further, finding new places to settle in it’s recesses.

The intense desire to be even closer to him grew stronger. You needed more moments like this. To know him more. And to show him more of you. To open up areas of your heart for him to see that you typically wouldn’t show a soul. No matter how scary, no matter how secret.

Megumi was unable to take his eyes off you.

Likewise, you were unable to take yours off him.

And tonight, your body will surely follow suit.

<< Set 3 | Set 5 >>

Set 5 Preview: Coming Soon... ;)

Thanks for reading! ✨🥰✨

Notes: As always, I welcome any and all critiques, suggestions, and comments regarding my work, since I truly feel all of those may make me a much better writer! I sincerely appreciate you taking the time to read my little stories, and if you'd like to be tagged in releases, don't hesitate to comment below! 😊💖🎶

Fanart Art: Courtesy of @Pinterest/@Berserker049 Ombre Caution/DNI & Animated lines: Courtesy of @CafeKitsune

#The Sweetest Beat #The Sweetest Beat Set 4 #jjk au #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk fanart #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #jjk #megumi fushiguro smut #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi x you #divider by cafekitsune

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si3nn4 · 2 months

Text

Comfort

"Don't touch that, it's dirty." Katsuki's harsh tug pulled you back from the small stray cat, making you stumble. His eyes were fierce, his grip firm as he tried to protect you from something he saw as a threat.

"No. It's cute." You protested, your voice small but determined. You tried to step forward again, drawn to the innocence of the little creature. But Katsuki's grip on your hand tightened, his resolve unyielding.

"So many fucking people. Disappear from my side and you can find another ride back home, okay?"

You scoffed in annoyance but still reached for his hand, pulling your handbag close. The crowds pressed in from all sides, an overwhelming tide of noise and movement. But Katsuki's grip on you tightened, a silent promise of protection in the chaos. You couldn't help but feel comfort in his arms.

Cheers and applause erupted from all sides, yet your attention was solely on the gorgeous man in front of you. The room was filled with family and friends, their faces blurred in the background of your happiness. Whispers of "I love you" and small kisses of adoration warmed your entire being, making your heart race.

The cool touch of the gold band on your finger created a stark contrast to the warmth in your heart. The sight of your wedding, adorned in white and rose gold, felt like a dream come true. The flowers, the lights, the soft music—it was all perfect.

As your newly wedded husband held you with the same firmness he had as a child, you marvelled at the journey you both had taken. The same hands that had held you from a young age now rested firmly on your waist, a testament to your enduring bond. You could see the love in his eyes, a depth of emotion that took your breath away.

But now, now as you sat there all drenched you were terrified.

The rain pattered down, a relentless rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart. Sirens blared in the distance, yet the noise was dulled as you stared at the sight in your arms. The world seemed to move in slow motion, each second stretching into an eternity.

"Love." Your grip tightened as you cradled the injured body of your husband, desperation in your voice. His blood stained your clothes, warm and sticky, and your tears mixed with the rain, falling onto his pale face.

It was terrifying. The same strong hands that had protected, loved, and caressed you now lay cold and still in your palm. You sobbed, your body shaking with the force of your grief. The golden ring on his hand seemed warmer than his touch, a cruel reminder of the life you had planned together.

A broken, desperate repetition of his name did nothing to wake him. "Katsuki, please," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Stay with me. Don't leave me." But Katsuki lay motionless in your arms, his eyes closed, his chest still.

The memories of your time together flashed through your mind—his fierce protectiveness, his rough tenderness, his unwavering presence. The way he would scowl and grumble but always, always be there for you. The way he loved you with a passion that burned as brightly as the sun.

All you could do was hold him with the same warmth he had always given you, hoping against hope that it would be enough to bring him back. "Love," you whispered again, your voice breaking.

You clung to him, your heart breaking with each passing moment, the rain washing away the last remnants of your dream. So you closed your eyes, hoping that this moment would pass and your past would return.

I'm backkkk

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou #katsuki #mha #bakugou x reader #my hero academia #angst #end of break #im backkk #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki x reader #mha bakugou

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skywalkerslvt · 3 months

Note

Need a desperate sub Leon in public setting🙏🏻But please dont make us mean,I cant be mean to my baby but "No baby we're in public!"

a/n: tysm for the request! here's a very short fic i've been working on (it's a little bit rushed and not proofread so i might fix it up later). hope u like it!! <3

CW: 18+ smut, sub leon, teasing, semi public sex, pet names (reader calls leon baby and good boy), handjobs, 1.1k words

Leon Kennedy was always composed, always in control. At least, that's what everyone thought. But right now, at one of his coworker's dinner parties, he was anything but.

The evening had started off normally enough. You and Leon had arrived at the elegant townhouse, greeting his colleagues and their partners with polite smiles. The house was buzzing with conversation and laughter, the sound of clinking glasses and soft music creating a lively atmosphere.

You were both seated at a long dining table, surrounded by the chatter of his coworkers. But beneath the table, hidden from everyone else, your hand was slowly driving Leon to the brink of madness.

It had begun with a casual touch on his knee, a simple gesture that wouldn't raise any suspicion. But then your hand began to wander, tracing patterns on his thigh, inching closer and closer to the bulge straining against his slacks.

Leon tried to focus on the conversation, tried to keep his responses coherent, but it was getting harder with every passing second. He shifted in his seat, his breathing becoming shallow as he felt your fingers brush against him.

"Are you okay, Leon?" you asked innocently, your eyes twinkling with mischief as you pretended to be concerned.

He swallowed hard, nodding. "J-just a little distracted."

You bit back a smile, knowing full well what you were doing to him. Your fingers pressed a bit harder, rubbing him through the fabric, and Leon had to bite his lip to keep from making any noise.

"Are you sure?" you asked, leaning forward slightly, giving him a perfect view of your cleavage. "You seem really tense."

Leon managed a weak smile. "Y-yeah, just... trying to keep it together."

You chuckled softly, your fingers giving him a teasing squeeze before leaving his aching cock, returning to tracing teasing circles up and down his thigh.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to compose himself, but it was no use.

He was too far gone, too desperate for your touch. His hand reached under the table, gripping your wrist in a silent plea for mercy. His hand guided yours up higher, where his cock was straining painfully against his pants. “Please,” he whined quietly, “I need it.”

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered back, "No, baby, we're in public. You can be a good boy and wait for me, can't you?"

Leon shuddered, his grip tightening. "I don't know if I can."

"You will" you said confidently, giving him one last squeeze before finally pulling your hand away. "Because you know I'll make it worth your while."

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The promise of relief, of finally being able to let go, gave him the strength to endure the rest of the meal.

But it wasn't easy. Every look, every casual touch, was a reminder of what was waiting for him, just out of reach.

By the time the dinner was over and you made your way to a quiet corner of the house, Leon was practically trembling with need. He followed you silently, his mind focused on only one thing: getting to a place where he could finally let go, where he could give in to the overwhelming desire that had been building up inside him.

As soon as you were alone, his restraint crumbled. He pulled you close, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate kiss, his hands roaming your body with a hunger that had been held back for far too long.

You smiled against his lips, knowing that you had him exactly where you wanted him. "Good boy," you whispered, your words sending a shiver down his spine, and Leon's eyes darkened with desire, his breath hitching as he prepared to show you just how much he needed you.

His eyes met yours, filled with a desperate need that made your heart race.

"Please," he whispered, his voice shaky. "Please, I need you."

You leaned into his neck, biting and sucking marks at his pulse point as your hand slid down his stomach, teasingly close to where he ached the most. You could feel his heart pounding, his breath quickening in anticipation as he let out a soft whimper.

You pressed a desperate kiss against his mouth before reminding him to keep quiet.

Leon whimpered, but he nodded again, his body trembling with the effort to remain still. You rewarded him with a soft kiss, your lips barely brushing his as your hand finally reached the waistband of his pants.

Your hand slipped inside his pants to wrap around his throbbing cock. His eyes rolled back in his head as he bit down on his lip to keep from crying out. "Just focus on me, Leon. I'll take care of you."

You stroked him slowly, your thumb brushing over the head of his cock, smearing the pre-cum that had gathered there. Leon's hips bucked involuntarily, a strangled moan escaping his lips before he could stop it. You tightened your grip slightly, reminding him to stay quiet.

"Shh," you soothed, kissing him deeply to muffle any further sounds. He kissed you back with a desperation that only fueled your desire, his hands gripping your hips as if to ground himself.

Your pace quickened, your hand moving faster over his length as his breathing became more erratic. You could feel him getting close, his body tensing as he struggled to hold back.

"That's it," you whispered against his lips. "Let go for me, Leon. Be a good boy and cum."

With a muffled cry, Leon obeyed, his body shaking as he came hard into your hand. You continued to stroke him through his orgasm, your other hand gently caressing his face as tears of relief and pleasure spilled from his eyes.

"Good boy," you murmured, kissing away his tears. "You did so well."

Leon slumped against you, his breathing slowly returning to normal as he basked in the afterglow. You held him close, your heart swelling with affection for the man in your arms.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with gratitude. "I love you."

"I love you too, Leon," you replied, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

"Now, let's get back to the party before anyone notices we're gone."

He nodded, reluctantly pulling away to adjust his clothes. You did the same, both of you sharing a secret smile as you stepped out of the closet, ready to face Leon's coworkers once more.

#sub leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil fanfiction

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genshin-impacted · 1 year

Text

so close (yet so far)

[Alhaitham x Reader]

You ask Alhaitham to be friends with benefits with you. (The both of you overestimate your ability to not get your feelings involved.)

word count: 11k* (one-shot)

notes: heavily nsfw**, female reader; "you", inexperienced!reader, friends to fwb to lovers, unrequited to mutual pining, modern au (reader and alhaitham went to hs together), some profanity, brief body insecurity on reader's side

*split into three main parts: one part is Alhaitham's POV btw a speed demon possessed me to write this much (im kidding; my friend put brain worms in me)

**oral sex, brief descriptions of face fucking, 69, car sex, dirty talk, face sitting, thigh fucking

Dating apps vary in tone and quality, you find out firsthand. Certain ones call for one-night stands and hook ups and others are prone to less of them (but they will always be there). You don't feel like you can make genuine relationships with people without meeting them first, but you figure you should give it a chance at least before giving up.

You are close to doing so when you show up for a date, and he cancels last minute.

"Ugh, man..." You sigh, putting your phone away after seeing the apologetic text. You won't blame your date: it may as well be a real emergency, but if not, he is not beholden to you to show up, though it would have been nice on his end to let you know earlier.

Still, you are here, and you are hungry, so you step into the cafe in hopes of grabbing fresh pastries when a familiar face catches your eye. You almost don't believe it, considering how many years have passed since you've last seen him. But there is no mistaking the silvery hair and the nose still buried in a book; even the green headphones remain the same, a detail that makes you laugh a little when you approach him and hope he isn't too upset at the sudden reunion.

"Alhaitham," you say cheerily, waving at him in case his noise-canceling is on. "It's been a while!"

Alhaitham takes his eyes off his book to look at you, hands raised to take off his headphones. You grin when it seems that he is just as surprised to see you as you are. "It has," he agrees. "More than a few years." He takes a look at you. "You haven't changed a bit."

"How rude!" You say teasingly, "I've changed a little bit in the past few years. Maybe not in appearance, but still. Mind if I sit?"

Alhaitham moves over when you take a chair over to sit in front of him, and it feels like the two of you never left high school-- if not for the stark fact that Alhaitham has changed physically since then. His jaw is more defined, shoulders broader, probably even taller than he was back then. He's handsome, you think, though then again, he always has been.

Wistfully, you think about the years you've lost connection with him and wonder what he has been up to. You've always enjoyed his company, much to some of your other friends' chagrin, and that sentiment has not changed now when the two of you converse easily.

"So," Alhaitham says, "were you on a date with someone?"

You don't even bother asking how he knew, only sighing and waving a hand. "I was going to be. He canceled last minute so I was going to grab something and go." Alhaitham hums noncommittally, and you snort in laughter, reminded of his apathy towards relationships then and, you guess, now.

You remember the times Alhaitham turned down people in high school at a ridiculous rate. "Another one?" You remember someone saying jokingly, seeing Alhaitham simply toss a letter slipped into his locker.

"You won't respond at least?" You asked, sympathetic over the courage it took to confess.

"I don't know them," you recall him saying. "Why should I consider being in a relationship with them when we haven't even spoken to gauge our compatibility?"

Alhaitham ended up not accepting anyone's confessions. You don't remember him dating in high school or during university either in the times you've messaged him just to catch up. Not that you have a stellar record either, having dated only one person your whole life without it going very far. You can't say you haven't tried though.

"So you're not dating anyone?" You ask, taking a sip of your drink.

Alhaitham looks at you briefly; you can never tell what he's thinking. He eventually looks away and says, "No. I'm not interested in dating."

"At all?" You ask again, voice high in genuine disbelief. 'Still?' is the unspoken question. (What a shame, you can't help but think.) When Alhaitham gives a nonchalant shrug, you let yourself sit back, astonished. You think about your (lack of) experience, the fatigue from dating apps, and then look at Alhaitham.

You've always found him attractive; you can't deny this. You trust him as a friend and as a confidant, because in his own words-- what is the use of telling secrets? Alhaitham is as intelligent and rational as ever, something you have always admired in him, which is why you trust him with this question.

"Would you be down for a friends with benefits relationship then?"

Alhaitham raises his brow in question and pauses in thought before responding. "...In general?" He asks, "Or with you?"

You love the way Alhaitham needs no explanation.

"Both," you reply. "Serious inquiry."

Worst case scenario Alhaitham rejects the offer and the two of you move on from this conversation (hopefully). Best case scenario is him saying yes. Last thing you expect is to have Alhaitham look at you with an expression you’ve never seen on him: unadulterated shock. You laugh at his reaction despite the tension that could have been held between the two of you, and you start to wave off the entire ordeal when Alhaitham tells you "sure."

It's only Alhaitham, but you show up at his apartment with a nervous flutter in your heart. He opens the door soon after you knock, donned in a regular shirt and sweatpants. You feel your shoulders relax at the casualness of it all and thank him for his hospitality as you enter his home. It does not take much to strike a normal conversation with him, words between the two of you flowing like usual. You are given a tour of the apartment per request, briefly admiring the tiles of the bathroom floor before ending the route in his room. It is minimalistic aside from the usual amenities, and it feels so much like Alhaitham that you smile as he types something on his laptop before turning back to you.

"Is my room that amusing to you?" Alhaitham scoffs, closing his laptop.

"Yeah, it kind of is," you agree easily. "It's better than a man cave, I'll give you that. But the walls are as empty as the day you got this place probably."

"I'll be sure to let you know when inspiration hits for me to decorate," he says sardonically, making you giggle to yourself. "Did you want music?"

The sudden change in topic makes you tilt your head in confusion. "Music?" You echo. "Music for what?"

Without skipping a beat, a song starts playing on low volume, bass steady and clear in his speakers. Alhaitham stands tall then, his headphones off, you note vaguely. He seems a lot taller than you remember, but perhaps it is because he is usually conscious of the difference in height to stand at a distance, so you don't have to crane your neck. This time, when Alhaitham stands right in front of you, close enough to bump chests, you look up and realize it is the first time you've really looked into Alhaitham's eyes.

There are more colors than you thought.

You instinctively want to take a step back, but his hand holding your arm-- firmly, just enough to stop you, but not strong enough to keep you there if you wanted to leave-- keeps you underneath his gaze. You are normally so good at defusing the tension with a few well-placed words of humor, but you aren't quite sure this is a tension that you want to cut through.

Just like that, your heart is at your throat. Alhaitham truly is very handsome, you think, eyes looking at his long lashes, the curve of his nose, and his lips. You can't help but jump when Alhaitham leans down, face closest to yours as it has ever been. You feel ridiculous, being strung taut as a caught fishing line just from being close to Alhaitham. Your cheeks prickle with the speed in which it warms, and just when you begin to wonder what Alhaitham could possibly be waiting for before he kisses you, his lips are on yours.

Your eyes close almost immediately, arms reaching up to hold onto him and finding purchase around his neck as he pulls you close until the two of you are flushed against each other. How long has it been since you've been kissed, let alone been kissed like this? Lips separating from yours only enough to find new ways to kiss you again. You gasp when Alhaitham gently bites and pulls at your lower lips. Feeling emboldened by your reception, Alhaitham swoops in and meets his tongue with yours, and you melt in his embrace.

You are surprised to see that you could probably go on kissing Alhaitham forever if that was all you could do. You only vaguely realize how efficiently you've been breathing through your nose through it all when you separate from him, dazed, and hear him mutter "fuck" under his breath.

A rush of adrenaline. You were already aware that Alhaitham is a willing participant in this newly established situationship, but to hear him being as affected as you do numbers to your rapidly increasing arousal. It's only fun when the both of you are enjoying it, after all.

"Not bad from someone who hasn't smooched anyone in years, huh?" You begin to tease, rightfully earning yourself a dirty look from Alhaitham. His lips are still wet, you think, and heat curls up from your lower abdomen up. The room suddenly feels hot.

"Are we trying to rate every encounter now?" Alhaitham remarks dryly, only to make you laugh at the thought of it.

"Not if it's not at least a 7/10," you say breathlessly. You shake in laughter again when you see him roll his eyes before holding onto his hand and tugging him to the couch. "Here, sit. My neck is starting to get tired. Being shorter is a struggle, you know."

Alhaitham sighs but sits obediently where you take him. "What do you-" He snaps his mouth shut when you swing your legs over his lap and sit yourself on top of him. You quirk a smile at the rare sight of Alhaitham being stunned once again and wonder how easily it seems to have gotten to make him react like that.

His hand easily finds its place at your waist as you curl your hands into the hair at the nape. "Trying to make myself comfortable," you say slyly. "This is much better."

You close the distance and kiss him again. You're a quick learner, so you do what has been done to you: nipping at his lips, tugging and pulling, and licking into his mouth until it makes him as breathless as you are. Is this what it's like to have chemistry? You wonder, feeling Alhaitham's hands dip underneath your top to slide his hand across the expanse of your naked skin. You want him to touch you more.

Alhaitham must have the same ideas because he murmurs at you to take it off, and you raise your arms easily to let him do exactly that. His fingers waste no time in pressing into the softness of your breast, over the white cloth of your bra. He is quick to grow tired of the thin barrier though, pulling it down just so your breasts can pop out into full view. Your cheeks prick in embarrassment at how exposed you feel-- this is the first man to see you like this, after all-- and having Alhaitham look at you with intense focus does not help with it.

Alhaitham's hands are warm when they cup your breasts, gently squeezing them until your nipples perk against his long fingers. You gasp in pleasure when he pinches them and tugs. Your arms reach out and hold onto his shoulders for support. As though on cue, Alhaitham swoops down to capture one of your nubs in his mouth while his hand plays idly with the other. He swirls it with his tongue, leaving a trail of spit when he detaches himself from it to move onto the other one. You hum as your hands card through his hair.

Alhaitham's free hand unhooks your bra, leaving it to hang down your shoulders. You immediately tug it completely off, casting it carelessly elsewhere. He is quick to be on you again, encouraging you to wrap your arms around him as he sucks onto your tits. It feels rather uneven, the way you're half-dressed but he's still fully clothed. You can feel the way his muscles contract underneath your hands, fingers tracing along the exposed skin of his neck that is far from being enough for you.

Just as you decide to ask Alhaitham to return the favor and take his clothes off, your hands spasms in his hair when Alhaitham takes a nipple between his teeth and tugs, hard.

Oh fuck, you think, letting out a long, shaky breath just before Alhaitham does it again, his hands on your back as it arches at his touch. "Fuck," you say aloud this time, and you can feel the way Alhaitham's lips curve up in amusement, the bastard. "Hey, you take your clothes off too," you tell him, tugging up the hem of his shirt.

Alhaitham looks at you steadily. "Why?"

You stare back at him and sputter. "What do you mean 'why?'" You-" You scowl, feeling your cheeks warm as Alhaitham continues to look at you with a smirk. "You just want me to say it, don't you?"

"I'm not a mind reader," he says, lips curving up. "How would I know what you want if you don't tell me?"

"I want to see you," you say, cheeks prickling with an embarrassment that you push through. "I want to touch you too, you know." When Alhaitham smirks at you before sitting up from the couch to take his shirt off, you huff. "Ugh, this is why everyone keeps giving you side eyes," you say, your hands sliding over his open chest with a mild sense of reverence despite your words. You knew Alhaitham was toned to hell, and this is the first time you've been granted the chance to view it in all its glory, your hands brushing over his built abdomen, thumb brushing over his nipples.

Alhaitham jumps slightly when you do so, and you giggle, ignoring the narrowed look you get from him and the way he grips onto your hips just the slightest. You shift in your seat, only to feel Alhaitham's hold you still, face flushed despite the impartial expression on his face. "What, what's up-" You feel it then, the hardness underneath your thighs, and you know Alhaitham sees the realization dawn on you because his blush travels down his neck.

He's embarrassed, you think gleefully. After initiating the hottest make out session you've ever had and easily pulling taut your strings, Alhaitham is embarrassed that he's hard? If anything, he should be-- better be! And you're a little flattered, you tell him just as much teasingly, and you can't help but hug him when he scowls at you.

Ah, you feel your heart flutter, knowing the effect you have on the immovable Alhaitham. But he is far from it now, chest heaving under your palm, cock hard as you press down onto it despite his modest resistance. You won't say it to him out loud, knowing he wouldn't like it, but you think Alhaitham is adorable as he is now. (You imagine people would say you're the only one who would think that.)

You rock your hips, eyes not straying from Alhaitham's as he stubbornly meets your gaze. His thighs are tense underneath you as you line yourself up to press your pussy lips against his clothed cock. A skirt was a good choice, you think dreamily; it lets you grind on him with aching accuracy and lets Alhaitham slide his hands across your legs and reach behind to squeeze your ass. You hum again in appreciation, kissing Alhaitham again as he generously cups your behind, making you moan, which he easily swallows up.

"Take your pants off too," you say, sitting back onto his legs. Before he can ask, you press your palm down on his bulge and quip a smile at him. "I want to try sucking you off."

You tie your hair up before kneeling down between Alhaitham's knees. His cock sits erect on his stomach, head flush with arousal. It should feel intimidating the way Alhaitham watches you, but you know Alhaitham, and you figure if there is anyone that you can be comfortable doing this with, it would be him.

"Tell me what to do," you say, hands softly trailing up and down his thighs. "I've never done this before."

"You've watched porn, haven't you?" Alhaitham replies dryly, making you roll your eyes good naturedly.

"It's not the same thing as doing, and you know it." You look over at the nearby table he has kindly set up for you in advance and take the bottle of lotion to pour some onto your hand. Alhaitham jolts slightly at the coldness of the lotion, hissing in a breath, though with the way you are steadily pumping his cock, you aren't quite certain the sound wasn't at least partially from pleasure. "Alhaitham," you begin, a whining lilt to your voice. "Come on. Teach me?"

"Alright, alright, fine," Alhaitham says, his hand covering his face. "Just- just stop for a second."

You let go of his cock, beaming up at him as he shifts so that he's sitting more comfortably. "Here," he says, almost boredly. He gestures for you to take him in hand again, and your heart skips when you feel his hand over yours, squeezing it as he guides it up and down again in a steady rhythm. "Tighten your grip like this. A little harder is fine. There are more nerve endings at the tip, but there's nothing wrong with covering the base as well." You can only nod in acknowledgement, a lump in the back of your throat as you emulate exactly what Alhaitham has shown you.

Is this how he normally gets himself off? The same strength, the same motion-- maybe a little extra attention at the tip where it is more sensitive? You feel your face warm and hope it does not show as you watch Alhaitham's face for approval or for any signs of pleasure.

Alhaitham has always been intense despite his neutral face. But you know him well enough to recognize the minute changes that occur. The tense jaw, partially open mouth, half-lidded gaze is enough to light a fire in your stomach. But you wonder how he would look if he were completely drowned in pleasure, if you could be the one that makes him look like that.

You speak before you can lose the courage to. "Can I use my mouth?" You say, "I want to use my mouth."

Alhaitham's cock twitches in your hand.

"Then put it in your mouth then," Alhaitham says, "and avoid teeth. It hurts."

Obediently, you nod and sit up on your knees, puppy licking the tip to test the waters before opening your mouth to put it in. You had thought this when your hand could not completely wrap around his cock, but Alhaitham is big, enough to make your jaw ache when you try to fit more of his member in. You make a sound of discontent when the cock head hits the back of your throat and you aren't even halfway down. You let your tongue rest on the bottom of his cock, saliva pooling underneath with a mouth so full.

It doesn't fit, you think somewhat dejectedly. You swallow around his cock, making a discontented noise when you feel Alhaitham's thigh clench as he bucks up into your mouth. "Sorry," he says, and you tell him an incomprehensible 'it's okay' around his cock. His thigh tenses up again.

You tentatively raise your head, lips wrapped around his member for a moment before pulling yourself off, ready to ask for guidance when Alhaitham offers it to you. "You can use your hand to cover the rest of it," he says. "A wringing motion like this. It'll feel better if you suck while you're doing it too. Use lotion or spit if it's too dry."

You nod and follow his words step by step, swallowing his cock again and hollowing your cheeks. The other hand pumps his cock as you slowly bob your head up and down. You lift yourself up with a breath and let saliva spill from your lips to ease the motion, your eyes glancing up to meet Alhaitham's eyes.

You don't think he has taken his eyes off of you for even a second.

It's a little addicting to know that his attention is all yours. What does he like best about this whole situation, you muse. The fact that he's your first? The eager way in which you are trying to please him? Or is it the look of you drooling over his cock, getting off just from sucking it?

You hum in pleasure around his cock and he throws his head back, hips jilting up only slightly.

You pop yourself off of him again, hand pumping the entire expanse of his cock as you tilt your head to lick at his balls. "Fuck," Alhaitham mutters, hands clenched into the couch. You watch as his eyes flutter open before looking at you again, chest rising and falling. Not one to give neither you nor him reprieve, you are sucking him off again, and then off, and then on. It's a little fun watching him writhe, and you slowly begin to realize the power you seem to have over him.

You are so grateful to Alhaitham for saying 'yes.' The feeling of being wanted, of being desired, of being empowered is intoxicating. Watching Alhaitham fall apart before your eyes because of you is even more so.

He says your name, strained, "I'm close."

Alhaitham lets out an involuntary groan when you pop off again. "Does cum taste bad?" You ask. "It's a lot neater if I swallow, unless you want it somewhere else?" The thought of Alhaitham finishing on your chest or face is somewhat appealing, though you worry about the mess.

It doesn't seem like Alhaitham particularly cares, because he grits out, "Your choice." He muffles a grunt of pleasure that you wish you could hear at full volume. "Just-"

The key to success is consistency, you think. You bob your head up and down in tandem with your hand, licking the head and swirling your tongue around his shaft until Alhaitham lets out a strained, "I'm coming-"

Despite the warning, the warmth that spurts in your mouth is still surprising. You slow your pace as Alhaitham cums, all pretty gasps and grunts that makes your head spin as you take all he is giving and swallowing. It's a lot more than you think too, your hand daintily at your mouth as you swallow as though it were the last bite of a meal. You look at Alhaitham, skin glistening with sweat, breathing hard after his climax, eyes slightly wide as he watches you lick your lips.

Before you can ask for it, Alhaitham shifts just enough to reach for a towel-- he really is prepared for everything-- for you to wipe your hand with. You hear him let out a long breath before you return the towel to him for his own uses. You stand up, wincing at the marks on your knees from kneeling for so long before grinning at him.

"So, what's the verdict?" You ask jokingly, making him scoff and roll his eyes as you had predicted.

"I'm not answering that," he says. He stands up and picks his sweatpants from the ground to make himself more modest. "You can extrapolate for that type of answer yourself."

You expected as much, but you still pout and sigh. You sit on the couch next to him. "Aw, boo, well I guess I'll just give myself an 8/10 then." You stop when you feel Alhaitham's gaze on you, calculating. "What, what is it? Am I lowballing it or what-"

"I think it's your turn," Alhaitham says simply.

"Oh, uh..." You honestly didn't come to his house expecting anything, so this comes as a surprise to you. That and a few certain parts of you makes that bit of insecurity flare up the moment Alhaitham mentions reciprocation. "It's fine," you say, "we don't have to-" You snap your mouth shut when Alhaitham parts your legs to put his knees between, his hand lifting your chin so he can kiss you. You vaguely think about the fact that he can probably taste himself on your tongue.

"I insist," Alhaitham murmurs against your lips.

"What do you suggest then?" You stammer, and Alhaitham pushes himself off just enough to look at you directly.

"We could try fingering. See if that's to your taste and then move on." He gauges you carefully. "We could stop if you truly wanted to, but don't make that decision on my behalf."

"Well, we could try," you say, lowering your gaze, feeling your heart pick up in anticipation.

"Alright," Alhaitham replies softly. "You can stop me at any time."

This is why you trust Alhaitham. This is why you asked Alhaitham to do this with you, to-- for a lack of better, less dramatic phrases-- be your first. It was made as a casual request but Alhaitham knew to take it seriously for you anyways. You aren't sure how much he knows how his words make you feel at ease.

The sense of ease is immediately replaced with nervous anticipation when Alhaitham parts your legs, pooling your skirt at your stomach, and slips his hand underneath your panties. You hear him let out a sharp breath, and before you can ask what's wrong, he says, almost in awe, "You're so wet."

You understand Alhaitham's feelings earlier now when you had felt his bulge; your arousal on full blast is nothing short of mortifying even though the situation calls for it. You hadn't even noticed, so focused on the task at hand, but when Alhaitham pulls back with glistening lines of slick between his fingers, you don't doubt his observation.

"W-Well, you know," you mumble, your hand grasping onto his supporting arm. Your eyes flutter when Alhaitham cups your sex, fingers sliding a line down the middle. Your hand spasms when his thumb hits your clit on the way down, and Alhaitham does not miss it. "Wait, Alhaitham-" You squeal when he presses onto your clit, swirling around it with persistent pressure that makes it hard to say anything coherent. You wouldn't have wanted to tell him to stop anyways, but you have a feeling he just wanted to tease you.

"Sensitive?" He says almost smugly.

"Not usually no," you choke out, breathing out a sigh of relief when Alhaitham lets off.

"Interesting," he says, and it's only now you realize how quiet Alhaitham was before when you were on your knees. Now with him at the upper hand, he can speak all he wants, and you're the one left catching your breath. It really is different when it's someone else doing it. "I'm putting one in to start, okay?"

You nod, but when you feel the first intrusion prod in, you reach out to seek out Alhaitham for support. "Relax," he tells you. "Your muscles are too tense for anything."

"Sorry," you say, taking a deep breath. He pulls you closer, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. You hot breath hits his neck when you turn to him. "Make sure you really lube that up, Haitham." You breathe again when his finger enters, and when it curls up onto the spongey part of your cunt, you feel it. It's nothing of import yet, but Alhaitham seems patient enough to build up to it.

One finger barely fits, but even with time, the second finger enters too. "You're tight," Alhaitham grunts, and you feel yourself redden as your only response. "I think you're stretched out. Any pain?" When you shake your head on his shoulders, you feel his fingers slowly pump in and out of you.

It picks up in pace and intensity, and then when he curves up this time- oh, you aren't sure you've ever felt this sensation before. Alhaitham's fingers are so much longer than yours, so it makes sense he can reach the places you can't, knuckles deep in you. Your breathing quickens and with it, Alhaitham's speed, his fingers pounding at that same spot over and over. You're at a daze, not any closer to a climax but not bored without pleasure. You aren't sure how long Alhaitham goes at it until he slows down, and the fog clears up.

"You okay?"

You hum, turning your head to face Alhaitham when he peers over to you. "Yeah," you mumble, "I feel good, just can't come from this."

"Hm."

You miss Alhaitham's warmth when he pulls away, fingers grasping at him. The haze that you feel quickly blows away when Alhaitham gets on his knees and pries your legs apart. "Whoa, um-"

"Most cannot finish with vaginal stimulation alone," Alhaitham says factually. "Hence, I'll be focusing my efforts on other areas."

"Yeah, I get that," you say, blinking with embarrassment. "It's just, um..."

Without your understanding, Alhaitham gives you a deeply unimpressed look. "Hair is a natural phenomenon. It doesn't matter to me in the slightest."

You would find it hard to believe, an insecure part of you convinced that it must be polite niceties. But this is Alhaitham, and he is never one for false platitudes and social norms with strangers or friends or you. When he says he does not care, you believe him.

"If you're sure," you tell him, and you let out a small squeak when he tugs your panties down, not even bothering to take it off completely before you feel his fingers pry your leaking lips apart. A lick up your clit has your legs closing on his head, but Alhaitham's hands easily pry you apart and keep you that way, your pussy open to be eaten.

You want to look away when Alhaitham's meets your eyes, and then his lips press to your folds and he begins to gorge himself on you.

It's impossible to keep your eyes open then when you're too distracted by how Alhaitham's tongue swirls around your clit, the muscle pressing into the bud of nerves with a dogged persistence. Even the noises you have kept to a minimum spill from your lips involuntarily. You can only breathe in hiccups, Alhaitham relentless in his pursuit of your climax as he sucks on your clit and begins to press his fingers against the zone of pleasure inside you as well.

'It feels good' sounds like an understatement at this point. You climb the precipice at an alarming speed, and you cannot help but grasp onto the hand keeping your thighs apart to ground yourself. It's almost overwhelming, but then you feel Alhaitham unfurl his grip onto your leg to grasp onto your hand.

It must be the endorphins, but you feel a warm ooze of affection for Alhaitham pool in your chest.

Logical, calm, and reasonable Alhaitham. Arrogant, antisocial, abrasive Alhaitham. Observant, considerate, and kind Alhaitham. You've known this man for so many years, and you are reminded in this instance that in all the times you have trusted him, he has never failed you once.

"Alhaitham-" You cry out. Your head feels hot as you curl your toes, your heels at his shoulders. When he hums in response, you feel the build up towards the beginning of the end. "I'm- I'm coming-"

You throw your head back, gasping in pleasure as your body jerks with waves of pleasure. Hazily, you feel Alhaitham lap at your hole at a slow but steady pace, his mouth never leaving you even as you buck against him.

Alhaitham only lets you go when your body slackens, legs limp in his arm as he gently sets it down in a comfortable position for you. You watch him, dazed, as he quietly grabs the towel to wipe his face and hands. He must see you look because he turns to you and offers you the towel too, though the mess between your legs is one of the last things you care about at the moment.

"C'mere," you say, arms reaching out for him. When he doesn't immediately come to you, you wave your hands insistently. "Plea-a-ase come here? I wanna cuddle."

A flicker of emotion comes and goes on Alhaitham's face before he replaces it with exasperation. "I didn't realize the benefits portion of friends with benefits included cuddles," he says, but he walks to you anyways, huffing in laughter at the small 'yay!' from you. Alhaitham settles in the space you moved over for him on the couch, and you immediately latch yourself onto him, head fitting easily at the crook of his neck. As his arms wrap around you, you heave a content sigh.

"You should have read the fine print, Alhaitham," you drawl, cheek pressed against his naked skin. "It was right there on page 562, 9th clause, addendum number four." You close your eyes, smiling at the sound of Alhaitham's little huff.

"Out of the two of us, I'm the one more likely to read a written agreement in full," he says. His voice reverberates in your ears, low and comforting.

You always thought he had a nice voice, reading out texts in class and reciting lines without effort. The two of you are a long way off from high school, but thinking back at the Alhaitham back then brings you good memories. It's even more so when you compare it to the Alhaitham now of whom reconnecting with was happenstance.

Alhaitham has changed a little in the years you have not seen him, with what you know now includes a fallout with Kaveh and an early college graduation. He's a little softer, you think, edges more blunt but still just as deadly when wielded with a sharp wit. It is to your comfort that most parts of him remain the same. A little smug, a little snark.

You're glad; you've always liked him just the way he is.

You feel his hand absently rub circles into your shoulders and feel as though that sentiment has only grown stronger.

"...You're hard again?" You ask after a moment, muffling your laughter into his skin when he clicks his tongue and shifts his legs so the offending body part in question is no longer touching you.

"A normal physical reaction," Alhaitham says, miffed.

You pause. "You want me to do it again?" You ask.

Alhaitham shifts so he can look down at you as you give him a grin, reaching down to grasp at his shaft and watching that moment when you catch him off guard, eyes fluttering in pleasure. Oh, yes, you think, heat pooling into your abdomen, you can certainly go for another round.

You tell him that you are tired of dating around with men you have no connection with, afraid to build intimacy when you are still inexperienced, and trust him enough to put up the offer to be friends with benefits. Alhaitham knows he is in love with you, but he says yes anyways. He does not make miscalculations often, but he acknowledges that he is only human, so he is prone to them occasionally. He thinks this decision to be friends with benefits with you may be one of them.

He has always had a hard time featuring his own feelings in the equation, surprisingly volatile in its unchanging affection for you even after all these years. (How long has it been since high school?) Anyone with a brain not controlled by their libido knows entering a purely sexual relationship with someone you’ve never quite stopped having feelings for is a recipe for disaster. But just maybe, being aware of that much will let Alhaitham avoid ruin.

It doesn't stop the way something in his chest twists painfully at the thought of holding you close even though you could not be more further away. After all, in initiating this relationship with him, you must have seen him as only a friend. You seem excited at the prospect of starting this type of relationship with him, and he is not one to deny you something if he believes it is something in his power to give.

On that note, he is surprised when he hears you have no experience being in a physical relationship with a man. Alhaitham does admit the idea of being your 'first' appeals to him, and because of that he thinks maybe he isn't so infallible to the whims of desire.

He's liked you for ages. He isn't sure even the best of men can refuse when the object of his affection asks him to treat them gently. (Or so he thinks. You may be more of his weak spot than he ever anticipated.)

You show up on his doorstep a week later, beaming at him when he lets you into his apartment. In the days leading up to this meeting, Alhaitham has prepped the environment with necessary amenities. You didn't specify what was to happen today, so he prepares everything to the lube to the condoms to the towels. Music, too, is something he did extensive research in, having learned that it can often set the mood.

Alhaitham isn't necessarily the most experienced person, but for the sake of knowing, he has slept with people and learned about his own preferences. He is more curious than he admits to finding out more about your preferences.

Still, when you look up at him doe-eyed and cheeks warm in anticipation, he is taken aback by the idea that he'll be the one to guide you today. He remembers when you were the one to direct him to class when he was lost as a transfer sophomore in high school. You were so assure of yourself, confident-- he never would have anticipated that you would have a shy side to you.

Perhaps that is what makes it all the more endearing, you all the more desirable, his chest searing with want as he closes the gap to finally feel your lips on his.

He really likes you, he's reminded, heart beating hard in his chest he thinks you might be able to hear it. And though you do not kiss him with the same feelings he holds for you, when you look up at him like that, he can almost imagine that you do.

Lips are one of the erogenous zones outside of sexual organs, filled with sensitive nerves that can sense even the slightest difference in temperature. The auditory sense is powerful too when it comes to stimulating the libido. It's why Alhaitham wants to devour you when he hears your small gasps as he pulls at your lips.

"Come sit," you murmur to him, and he can only acquiesce without a word. Good thing, because he would have been made speechless the way you boldly swing your legs over to sit on his lap. Alhaitham is acutely aware that his cock has begun to fill, straining against sweatpants that shows no effort to hide his arousal.

Your kisses sear his lips, your hands welcoming his to explore your body which he does with little hesitation. Alhaitham wants to see you in full, your breasts spilling out and nipples hard being irresistible that he cannot do anything but put his mouth to use again.

Your skin is smooth against his palm, your sounds of pleasure almost like music to his ears he almost wishes it weren't buffeted by the sensual base notes of a playlist he searched up last night. "I want to touch you too," you tell him breathlessly, and who is he to deny you that?

When you take a moment to admire his body, he takes this moment to look at you-- an overview, one might say. You are breathtaking in his perspective, lips slightly swollen, breasts bouncing when you adjust yourself. Alhaitham feels his cheeks warm when you innocuously grind yourself onto him (that damned skirt), and he only grows hotter when you do it again with purpose.

He should have known you would be able to flip the tables on him like that, inexperience be damned. You've always had a way to do that.

And then you are on your knees, hair up and ready to pleasure him, and he almost doesn't know what to do. Except he must-- you want him to guide you, to teach you how to make him feel good, and the way you easily do that forces him to do his best not to buck up into your touch. He must be more sensitive because it's you, or maybe you really are that fast of a learner, even when it comes to sucking cock.

Would you like dirty talk? He wonders, praise or degradation? You seem to like it a little rough, though you seem receptive to his gentleness too. Not that he can think it thoroughly with the way you are hallowing your cheeks, tongue swirling around his cock. Seeing you swallow his cum-- all of it-- is almost enough to revive his softening member, the way you look at him coyly an attractive look on your face.

He thinks the way your face contorts in pleasure is also an attractive look for him too. Alhaitham looks up from his position between your legs and watches you with hazy desire as you close your eyes, hand at your mouth to muffle your gasps. Alhaitham thinks of telling you to stop covering yourself, but he thinks that just this one time, his mouth has better things to do.

His name on your lips as you reach your high makes him close his eyes and hum in pleasure, tongue delving into you again as your slick gushes from your hole. Alhaitham is a man of pride, and watching your body slacken, spent on pleasure that he wrought from you makes his chest burn with satisfaction.

He wipes himself and sees you look up at him almost sleepily, and the satisfaction quickly morphs into gentle affection. He wants to kiss your forehead, clean you up himself and hold you. But is that too revealing? Too much emotion for a relationship like this? And Alhaitham is brought back to the reality that you are only his friends with benefits. (He is well aware of the concept of 'post-nut clarity' but finds it loathsome at the moment.)

Just as he begins to formulate words to wrap this scene in a pretty bow, you wave him over with an endearingly whining croon, and he comes to you without thinking otherwise. He is yours to hold-- always has been.

Alhaitham cannot control how you feel (would never want to), but he can control the way he will not fall apart even as you lay down with him, tracing shapes into his hand in a way he's never allowed himself to dream of. So close yet so far, he thinks, trying not to smile when you whinge at him at pushing you off the couch until you go to the bathroom. He'll take care of you as long as you'll have him.

You go over to Alhaitham's when you can. You try not to treat him like a booty call--though, as he has told you before, that is simply the nature of the relationship. But you are his friend before it comes with the benefits, so you try not to treat him any less. After all, you like spending time with Alhaitham, sex or not, though for some reason he seems almost bewildered when you come over his house and want to take him out for a taco truck you've been craving to eat.

"Isn't this what friends with benefits do?" You point out, biting into your taco. "Being friends with some extra stuff attached?"

Alhaitham looks at you for a moment. You take this time to squeeze some lemon onto his uneaten tacos for him.

"I suppose so," Alhaitham says noncommitally. "I was under the slightest impression you also wanted to use me for experimentation, considering your lack of experience. So you would want to take every opportunity we get to do something."

You scrunch your nose. "I don't like the word 'use.' It’s not like I talked to you and asked you this just for that reason." You frown, and the thought settles in you uncomfortably. "Please don't say that I'm using you. I'm not. I care about you," you say firmly. "I don't want you to feel that type of way, so if you do, we can stop being friends with benefits and just go back to-"

Alhaitham raises his hands in surrender. "No need," he says." I apologize. I wasn't being careful with my choice of words."

The discontent dissipates almost immediately with his words. You can't help but feel pleased. "And aren't you the one with a linguistics degree?" You tease, making him roll his eyes as he takes a bite of his food.

You imagine his eyes are rolled back again if he were to open them now on the ride back to his place as you give him a hand job. Only on the red lights, you vow; you wouldn't want to cause an accident on the road if he were to close his eyes while driving, though the unamused look he gives you has you biting the inside of your cheek to stop smiling.

The two of you end up parked at a neighborhood street when you unclip your seatbelt to finish him off with your mouth. You think his cum tastes a little better than before, and you tell him just as much when Alhaitham tucks himself back in. He only shrugs nonchalantly, but when you look into his fridge later after another session for refreshments you find freshly cut pineapple wrapped in a plate.

You wonder if you would taste better if you started eating them too.

And a month passes with the same routine: you ask if you can come over, the two of you go out to eat or go for an outing before inevitably ending up back at his place for some stress relief. You don't mean to do it every time you go to his place, but it ends up happening anyways. You ask if he wants to try something and then he says yes.

69-ing ends up being a lot more difficult than you anticipated, mainly because you keep getting distracted by things other than the pleasure itself. No matter how many times Alhaitham insists you're not too heavy, and no, you cannot break his neck (his confidence extends in all spheres), you can never get yourself comfortable.

And then there's the alignment issues. You may as well just take turns; it makes it easier for the both of you.

Some things he suggests too, such as face sitting. Alhaitham seems adamant on proving you wrong when he settles underneath you, your thighs on either side of his head as he serves as your seat until your legs are shaking in pleasure.

Alhaitham, you find out, is as good at dirty talk as you imagined. It's the linguistics degree in him, you always joke, but then you're always put in your place when he makes you beg for him to continue eating you out. He is smug as always after these sessions and you can only jab at him to no effect when you see it.

Leaving your jaw slack as he fucks your face, groaning about how good you're taking him, how good you look taking in his cock like you'd like nothing but to take his load down your throat- well. If it was possible for you to finish with just his words, you gladly would have. You are certainly close enough afterwards that Alhaitham only needs his hand on you for a minute before you're creaming onto his fingers, words murmured into your ears like soft feathers.

You voice does end up a little hoarse afterwards, throat sore, but Alhaitham is quick to bring you warm ginger tea to soothe it.

"Go to the bathroom," he tells you sternly. "I won't be responsible for any UTIs."

And when you come back from the bathroom, stark naked (you've instigated round two with this before by accident), your clothes are always ready and folded at the coach with Alhaitham in the kitchen getting you refreshments. It's times like these that make you forced to acknowledge the pink elephant in the room: the more you try not to think about it, the more you feel like Alhaitham would be a really great boyfriend.

Clearly, you overestimated your ability to not catch feelings for a long-time friend whom you trust and has told you straight up he is not interested in dating. You've put yourself in a bit of a sticky situation because you find yourself wanting to abide by the boundaries set by being friends with benefits, but also barely holding back from kissing Alhaitham on the cheek goodbye or asking if you can stay the night. Or taking him on real dates. Or holding his hand when you go out.

You think Alhaitham might not like the hassles that come along with being in a relationship. It's definitely got obligations that he may not be interested in fulfilling-- at least until he finds the right person. The fact he has not said a word to you about it only tells you that you are not that person. (Your heart hopes and yearns though, and you think it needs to shut up.)

Luckily or not, you end up being busy with work and family matters, so you don't get to see Alhaitham for a while. You still message him often, if only to talk about random things or complain about so-and-so. You think you should be more disciplined; perhaps the distance will keep your feelings at bay, but then the moment you find a reprieve in work you're immediately texting Alhaitham to meet up for coffee.

The feelings aren't going away, you think with mild exasperation when you find yourself nodding and hanging onto his every word as he talks about something stupid his coworker has done (and always does). All things come to an end, but you think you like to hang onto Alhaitham like this just a little while longer. Eventually you'll have to broach the dreaded but much needed subject of 'what are we?' but until then, you are more than content being with Alhaitham like this even if you wish you were officially together.

But you can't blame the way things have turned out. After all, if this never happened, would you ever have gotten close to Alhaitham like this?

You check the time on your watch and sigh. "Ugh, I promised I'd run errands for my mom so I gotta go," you say, standing up from the coffee table. You grab your empty cup and toss it in the trash. When you look at Alhaitham, he seems unsure. "Uh, what's up?"

"...I assumed we were going back to my place afterwards," he says carefully. "I thought that was why you called me."

"Oh, no," you say, mouth open with words at the tip of your tongue. You feel your heart rise to your throat as your cheeks grow hot at the honesty of your next words. "I just wanted to see you. Sorry. I should have said something."

"No, it's fine." Alhaitham pushes his seat back to stand too. "You did say we were friends first before the benefits."

You did say that, you remember, but now you can't help but wish the two of you were more than friends. You bite your tongue from blurting those words, but you end up staring at him for a moment too long to not be awkward. "Yeah," you end up saying, "I think I'll be able to see you again next week? I'm less busy, if that's okay?"

"Sure," he says, and you can't help but feel he is so far from you even though he is in arm's reach. "See you then."

It is settled in your heart and head (both in agreement this time) that your friends with benefits relationship with Alhaitham has an expiration date that is coming soon. You like Alhaitham too much to keep pretending that you don't, so it is only a matter of time you end up being just his friend again or begin something anew as a couple. The probability of Alhaitham also catching feelings for you the same time as you is basically zero, you think miserably, so you can only bite the bullet when the time comes.

"I think next time," you say after another session, "I want to have you fuck me."

You hear Alhaitham stop rummaging into his fridge to look at you. His face betrays no emotion and for a frustrating moment, you wish it did just so you can see if he is affected as you are. But this is Alhaitham, and you know better than to expect as much.

"Alright," Alhaitham says. "I can bring the lube and the condoms-"

"No condom," you find yourself saying, "I can take birth control." You look at him, gauging his reaction. "Is that okay with you?"

Alhaitham meets your gaze steadily. "If you are."

"You'll take responsibility, won't you?" You say with a light lilt to your voice, though you trust Alhaitham to take your words seriously. "I'll see you next week?"

He nods. "Next week."

The expiration date comes more quickly than you hoped. You shake your head and the negative thoughts away at his front door before you knock. You care for Alhaitham and you like him as more than a friend: these truths are unchanging for you now, so there is no point in despairing about what is not to be. Besides, you don't want your first time-- with someone, with Alhaitham-- to be marred with angst. You want to enjoy it with him to the last minute.

You ring his doorbell and hear his footsteps approach the front door, your heart beating fast in nervous anticipation.

Alhaitham looks normal, which is to say, as calm as ever when he lets you into his apartment. You put your bag down in your usual spot and amble to the kitchen take a sip of water. Alhaitham walks to his room first to wait for you, and with a deep breath in, you follow after him.

You are reminded of the first time you came over to his house, standing there as you wait for Alhaitham to make the first move. Alhaitham does the usual routine: putting the music on, setting out the equipment, and laying down the towel. He turns to you as you quietly watch him and bends down enough to press a kiss to your cheek.

You feel the tension melt away.

You raise your hand to brush his hair from his eyes before cupping his cheeks to bring him closer to kiss. They are gentle ones though still full of feeling, heat thrumming behind every touch and warm breath shared. "Alhaitham," you murmur, his hands sliding your shirt over your head and guiding you toward the couch.

It is almost rehearsed the way Alhaitham's fingers nimbly remove your bra, his knees between your legs as he helps you out of your bottoms. You sit waiting and watching as Alhaitham removes his own clothes--a personal show-- before he is back on top of you, leaving a trail of kisses along the same spots he knows can make you tremble.

And Alhaitham knows you quite well now, you think, beyond the bedroom. He knows how you take your coffee (not black), how you like to order your food (spicy), the way you can get carsick so he drives smoother, the nasty habit of staying up late so he messages you at 11 pm to tell you to sleep. You trust him so terribly much, and he knows you terribly well-- it is no wonder that you fall apart under his touch in no time at all.

"Alhaitham," you breathe out, holding onto his wrist before he overstimulates your clit. "I want you inside of me. Please?"

You let out a surprised gasp when Alhaitham turns you, so he is facing your front. Your heart is beating so loudly underneath your hands where you've rested them on your chest. You think maybe you would have cold feet but instead you are surer than ever that Alhaitham is someone you want to be your first. You gasp in pleasure when Alhaitham's cock clips onto your clit as he glides it forward and back along your sex. You don't think you've ever wanted someone as you wanted Alhaitham.

But you like to think you know Alhaitham well, now better than ever. So when you look up at him as a flicker of emotion flashes across his face, you can identify it. Alhaitham stays in that position between your legs, conflicted, and that is enough to ebb away the waves of desire to ask him if he's okay.

His expression freezes then, his grip on your legs tightening just a little before releasing them again. "What do you mean?" He asks, and you have half a mind to not laugh at the fact he thinks he can fool you.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," you say. "Not right now and maybe not ever if that's not something you want-"

"I-" Alhaitham snaps his mouth shut, lips twisting as he tries to say words that, for once, do not come easily to him. "That's not entirely true."

"What's not true?" You prompt.

"That this isn't something I want." Alhaitham looks steadily at you then. "Nothing could be more true."

"...Then how about you fuck something else?" You say, closing your legs and letting the plush of your thighs envelop his cock instead. Alhaitham swallows thickly, though his face is as impartial as ever (but you know better). "Pretend it's the real thing. For practice," you say coyly.

Alhaitham curses under his breath, closing his eyes at the sensation of his cock locked between your thighs.

You breathe out slowly, eyes mesmerized by the slant of his brows from concentration, mouths parted, and eyes closed in pleasure. You find that you don't mind this type of view at all, especially not for the finale. You watch every minute detail of Alhaitham chasing his bliss and ingrain it into your memory to keep.

You breathe out through your nose roughly when Alhaitham's cock hits your clit, his pace quickening as he slickens your thighs with a mix of your arousal and his. You moan at the thought of it, the sounds emanating from it a joint effort between your two bodies.

Alhaitham says your name then, making your heart skip a beat as your focus is back onto him. His eyes don't leave yours as he brings himself close to the climax. "Come for me, Haitham," you say, "come for me, baby."

Almost obediently, Alhaitham does as you say, cum staining your chest as though someone made your body a canvas. You watch him come back from his high, taking a finger to swipe some of it from your chest to taste. You smile at his coyly when you see Alhaitham watch you.

It's been fun, you think, as Alhaitham stands up to grab a towel to clean up. You sit up, combing a hand through your hair, working up the courage to say what needs to be said. You're jolted from your thoughts when you feel Alhaitham wipe a towel across your chest, cleaning up the mess the two of you made.

"Oh, thanks!" You say, laughing, "I almost forgot that was there."

"Your mind works in strange ways," Alhaitham says, and you think you are more compromised than you think when you hear the way his voice seems to dip lower, softer when he speaks to you. He pauses in his movement. "Sorry about earlier," he tells you. "Did you have another idea in mind?"

"It's fine, Haitham." You wave his concerns away. "And, um, sorta? It's nothing sexual actually, I just think I need to talk to you about something."

To his credit, Alhaitham only takes a moment to process your words. "Alright," he says. He takes a towel to wrap around your shoulders before putting his pants back on just for modesty. You watch him fondly as he sits next to you.

"I wanted to say thanks," you begin, "for doing this with me. I trust you to treat me right and you've never proven me wrong."

"No thanks needed," Alhaitham trails off, "is what I normally say but I don't mind a word of gratitude when it comes from you." He lets out a huff of laughter when you knock shoulders with him; yours is the only one that ends up a little sore.

"And I know we started this out as friends with benefits, but, um..." You breathe out. "I think... I've started to catch feelings for you." Not honest enough, you think, and add on, wincing, "A lot, actually. I like you as more than a friend." You turn away from him then, focusing on your hands as they fidget in your lap. "I don't think I can keep on doing this and pretend like I don't, so I think we should stop being friends with benefits."

You stammer, heart fluttering with anxiety, "A-And I know you said you didn't want to be in a relationship anyone, but I was wondering if you were interested in doing that with me...? If not, it's okay, I'm honestly really okay if we stayed as friends. I just wanted to be transparent with you because I think you deserve-"

"Why do you assume I wouldn't like you back?" Alhaitham cuts through. You turn to stare at him, and he meets your eyes and keeps them there. "I never said I didn't want to be in a relationship with anyone."

You stare. "What are you talking about? You're literally the one who told me you were never interested in dating."

"I'm not," Alhaitham says slowly. "I'm not interested in dating, but that doesn't mean I'm not open to being in a relationship with someone."

"Huh?" You blurt out. "But how are you supposed to be in a relationship with someone if you don't meet someone to date them first?"

Alhaitham is patient with you despite your growing frustration. It is so obvious he has connected the dots and is waiting for you to catch up. "I don't need to date," he says, "because I already met someone I'm interested in being with. I don't need to meet new people."

"Wait, what?" You gape. "Who?"

The face that Alhaitham gives you is by far the most unimpressed he has ever looked. You feel like punching it a little. You cross your arms, huffing.

"Give me hints or something," you say, clicking your tongue in annoyance. "Do I know them?"

"Very well," Alhaitham replies, sidling close to you that your arm can feel his body heat.

"Are they from our high school?"

"Yes."

"Really?" You gasp. "Well, we have your friends-"

"They are also your friends."

"-and my friends, which are yours..." You trail off, feeling your face warm and your heart rise to your throat. You can't be hopeful, you think. It is such a dangerous thing when you assume, but you think about who Alhaitham has befriended, who he is still friends with, and who he is closest to. The best answer you keep arriving to is yourself.

Is it too arrogant of you to think that it's you that Alhaitham wants to be with?

"No, it's not prideful to think it's you if it's true," Alhaitham says, and you wonder if you said it aloud. That thought is quickly discarded in favor of thinking over Alhaitham's words. Your heart feels fit to burst, lips wobbly without your permission. His eyes soften when he looks at you then, hand raising to cup your cheek.

"I like you," Alhaitham tells you. "I want to be more than friends."

"More than friends with benefits?" You can't help but ask, and you laugh through the sudden tears when Alhaitham scoffs before pressing his forehead against yours.

"Yeah, way more than that," he says quietly. He presses a gentle kiss to your temple. "I've always wanted more with you."

You sniffle, grinning. "Good thing I asked you then, huh?" You let put a shriek of laughter when Alhaitham pins you down, arms caging you in and making you feel nothing but safe. He looks at you then, eyes full of affection that you wonder how you could have ever missed that before.

"You want to retry from earlier?" Alhaitham asks, pulling your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.

"I won't lie," you say, laughing when Alhaitham nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck. "That talk took a chunk of my energy. I kind of want to nap and cuddle. With you! Besides," you say, shifting so that Alhaitham can join you on the coach, the two of you as close as you can be, "we have all the time in the world to do new things together." You turn to look him in the eyes and hopes he sees how much you adore him in equal amounts.

"I can wait," you say, and Alhaitham leans to kiss you.

It is not the last time he does so.

#alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #written all on my PHONE thats how down bad i was to write this

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