#I just wish I could help through it more than I currently am | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sylusjinwoon · 2 months

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{ 203 }

attention seeker.

alternate title: the five times he purposely got injured to get your attention.

sylus x (non.mc)healthcare.worker!fem.reader

notes: healthcare worker can be any profession of your choosing in the medical field like nursing, physician, pharmacist, physical therapist, etc.

{ i know you’re faking it, but that’s okay. }

ever since sylus knew of your occupation as a healthcare worker, the man stopped healing himself using his abilities, always wanting you to take care of his injuries and wounds.

he didn’t care how his wounds could heal with just a mere snap of his fingertips. all he wanted was to feel your soft touch; to bask in the way you would always dote on him as your fingertips would lightly trace at his cuts and bruises.

“what's this? aren't you the almighty leader of onychinus who can't be killed? why would you ever need my services?" he recalls you asking him in a giggle, earning a growl of your name from him as he gave you paper thin excuses.

"i have been feeling more exhausted than usual, and am unable to bring forth such abilities. so... are you going to heal me or not?" his haughty reply would always earn him a playful roll of your eyes at him, yet you were never one to deny him of his needs (a fact that he was all too willing to take advantage of.)

currently, he was busy examining his supply of weapons, and his hands itched with a sudden desire to run his fingers through your hair while bringing your pliant form into his embrace. frustrated at how distracted he was feeling, sylus pushes himself away from his desk all while taking deliberate strides toward your shared bedroom.

he arrives at the master bedroom within a few minutes, letting a huff in response as he pushes aside the doors, revealing your sleeping form settled comfortably atop the king-sized bed. sylus freezes in his steps, wishing to take a moment to admire you. crimson eyes trail down your body with adoration shining within his gaze, taking note of how vulnerable you looked as his silk sheets were tangled up within the length of your legs.

after spending a few moments simply watching you, sylus steps closer to you, sitting down on the edge of the bed as he reaches out a hand to brush back your hair. while burning your image into his very memories, he couldn't help but reminisce about the times he had given himself an injury or experienced pain, just so he could begin to heal with your gentle touch...

{ ... }

sylus had purposely put himself in the middle of a bar fight the moment the bastard had managed to give him a black eye in response to his intervention. he was around the area, wishing to check on the businesses he owned when he stepped foot into the bar.

immediately, he knew something was amiss when he caught sight of a drunkard messing with one of the female bartenders, the scent of vodka reeking from the bastard's very veins when sylus stepped closer to him. he merely placed a hand on that drunkard's shoulder when the bastard swung at him, managing to land his fist against sylus's eye.

red hot anger was felt coursing through his veins as he grabbed the vodka drenched man by the collar of his torn shirt, forcing him to land head first against the onyx counter. when he hears the satisfying crunch of bones breaking against the marble counter, a sense of satisfaction fills him-

but sylus wanted more-

he was bloodthirsty, and he felt the way his left eyelid seemed to pulse from the sudden impact of the asshole's punch-

yet what ultimately stops him was the sight of your smiling face, and how you would have been so disappointed in him for ruthlessly killing for no good reason.

with a scoff, sylus shoves the drunkard away from the counter before dragging his body out of his bar, tossing him outside and into the pouring rain. "you're lucky i felt generous enough to spare your life. leave this place and never come back, unless you really have a death wish."

sylus was uncertain if the man had even heard him when he started to puke profusely, earning another grunt of disgust from onychinus's leader as he looked away from the vomiting man.

turning away from the mess, sylus goes to check on the bartender, and once he was certain she was unharmed, he leaves the bar through the back exit and rides his motorcycle, with the intention of returning home to his shared penthouse-

of returning home to you.

filled with motivation thanks to the thought of you, sylus purposely speeds through the rain, dodging traffic as he rode between several vehicles with you as his sole purpose. after racing through the city, he finally arrives back home, parking his bike in its usual spot before making his trek back to toward the penthouse settled at the top floor.

the moment he unlocks the door, he was greeted by your smiling face, with your arms already outstretched to welcome him. however, when you notice the purple and black bruise beginning to blossom against his left eye was when your demeanor completely changes.

"oh my god, what happened to you, sylus?!"

"hm? what do you mean?" he was frowning, but here you were, chattering around him like a worried, mother hen.

"your eye...! your left eye has the worst bruise on it!" you tell him with a hiss, taking him into your shared bedroom before settling him on one of the couches. he was ready to protest, the words ready to spill from his parted lips when you suddenly disappeared into the bathroom, pulling out a first aid kit before rejoining him on the couch.

with your eyes filled with love and concern for him, he allows you to gently dab at his bruised eye with a cold handkerchief, biting back a grin as you worked on treating his bruise.

he never used his powers to heal that night, for he found a much deeper comfort in having you care for him instead.

{ ... }

the day he had broken his arm was completely and utterly accidental on his part. he was simply working out, not paying any attention when the weights on the shelf slid down and just happened to land on his arm.

upon feeling such an impact on his arm, he let out a string of curses, but refused to readjust his arm and heal himself. when he steps out of his personal gym and greets you, he purposely lays the extent of his pain on thick.

"sweetie... i'm afraid an accident happened... could you help me? i believe my left arm is broken."

you were in the midst of reading a book when he returned back home to you, already seeing the worry in your gaze as you stood up from your seat. "sy, what happened?"

he lets out a hiss when you gingerly touch at his arm, hiding back a grin before admitting to you. "i think a fifty pound weight fell off from the shelf and landed on my arm when i tried to catch it. the pain... it's too much to bear. i can hardly focus."

that was when your doting nature reappeared, helping him into bed with the same determination shining in your eyes as you put some ice on his arm while offering him some medicine to aid with easing the pain.

you spend the next hour or so scolding him, telling him to be more careful as you help with keeping his arm in place, already making plans to set up an appointment at the clinic for him as sylus couldn't help but simply smile in response.

never before had another human being shown so much compassion and concern for him-

and he loved every minute of it.

{ ... }

the bruises on his back and abdomen caused by luke and kieran's training was also a mess that sylus had purposely brought upon himself.

knowing that his kids henchmen were all too eager to train and show off their newly acquired skills at ambushing him, sylus allows the twins to treat him like their own personal punching bag, knowing that their blows were hardly painful-

but it was enough to cause a series of bruises appear all across his body, causing your gentle hands to remain glued to him, doing everything that you could to help him heal.

after spending two hours with the twins, sylus dismisses them the moment he hears you coming home from work. knowing that you were currently undressing in the bedroom, ready to destress after a hard day at work.

with a half smirk donning his features, he enters the bedroom dressed in his gym clothes. calling out your name, he catches your attention, watching as you turn around and face him.

"hello, my grumpy crow." he grumbles at your nickname for him, but welcomes you in his arms with little hesitation. you lean up to press a kiss against his lips, allowing him to deepen it for a brief moment before pulling away from him.

you meet his gaze, arms already coming up to wrap around his neck when you saw several purple and black marks on his chest.

"sylus, what happened to you?!" you let out a gasp, taking a step back as you saw several bruises blossoming against his pale skin. he simply hums, feigning innocence as he looked down at his chest. "oh, luke and kieran's punches were so light that i barely felt them. i guess they're getting stronger now if they're able to bruise me like this."

a look of suspicion crosses your lovely features, but instead of questioning him, you let out a sigh before taking his hand and leading him into your shared bathroom.

with his luxurious, porcelain tub in sight, you turn on the faucet, allowing the hot water to fill before focusing your attention on sylus. he meets your gaze, expression filled with a calm confidence. he watches as you step closer to him, hands running up the fabric of his tank top before sliding it off his body. you do the same with his shorts and boxers, leaving him completely bare for you.

"wow, you've stripped me of all my clothes and have yet to pounce on me, that's quite an achievement, kitten." you roll your eyes at his teasing words, pushing him into the tub as he lands inside of it with an audible splash!

his eyes darken with desire for you, hands running through his now soaked strands of hair. he sits back up against the tub while watching you with hungry eyes as you shed the rest of your clothes. once you remained just as bare for him, you join him, settling yourself on his lap while gently massaging and soothing the bruises seen across his body.

unfortunately for you, your innocent touches simply served as a means for sylus to unleash the entirety of his desires on you, making love to you as he stopped caring about the sheer amount of water that lands against the marble flooring of the bathroom in response to sylus's passionate movements... simply basking in your cries of pleasure.

{ ... }

the day he had gotten sick with a fever was something that was truly accidental on his part.

it was a stressful time for him, with news of a traitor lingering within onychinus taking over his time as he sought out the mole. sylus had spent countless nights looming over his men, his eyes never leaving their sights before he came into contact with a man who's thoughts were filled to the brim with greed.

upon realizing that the bastard had been leaking important information to a rival, sylus takes it upon himself to get rid of the problem permanently, refusing to give the man a second chance (even as he begged for his life.)

yet by the end of it all, a strange exhaustion was felt coursing through his veins. his steps were uneven and heavy when he manages to return back to the penthouse, panting while thinking of you (always thinking of you).

the moment he comes home and sees you in the kitchen, the scent of your cooking filling his nostrils, he thought he would be excited to see you; to bask in your cooking as he was finally able to relax after such an arduous event.

but all he felt was an impending nausea, leaving him trembling and coughing as he struggled to get on the couch. hearing his struggles, you shut off the stove and cease cooking, coming closer to him.

"sylus!"

you settle yourself in front of him, taking note of the haziness seen within his gaze. normally, his eyes shone a bright red and ruby hue, so filled with life-

yet now, they became hazy and dull, losing the light it once had due to his mental exhaustion.

sylus was unable to respond to you, letting out a deep sigh when he feels the palm of your hand touch at his skin. you gasp, feeling just how hot his skin was beneath your touch. "you're burning up...!"

still in a haze, sylus was dimly aware of the way you helped him stand up, practically dragging his body towards the bedroom as his fevered body was pressed up against you. he didn't know when or how it happened, but you had placed his body in bed while peeling off his clothes, leaving his expensive suit in a pile in the corner of the room.

the man was about to respond to you, telling you how his suit was worth what a businessman makes in a year, but was unable to do so. he was going in and out of consciousness, dimly aware of you saying "i'll be right back..." before disappearing from his view completely.

sylus's hands itched with the urge to grip at your wrists-

to prevent you from leaving him so soon when all he wanted was for you to stay by his side and hold him; to comfort him when he was in such desperate need of you.

without you here, the man found it difficult to close his eyes and fall asleep, your absence making him feel even grumpier as he sat up from his spot in bed. losing track of time, he was ready to stomp out of the room (using all of his remaining strength if he had to) just to get to you and force you to come back with him.

but his anger soon disappears the moment you enter the room with a tray in hand. he tilts his head at you, seeing what looked like a steaming bowl of soup with a tall glass of ice water and some tylenol. setting the tray on the nightstand, you click your tongue and hold the bowl in your hand.

"what am i going to do with you?"

sylus chuckles in response to your question, "what are you going to do with me? well, you're going to take care of me, of course."

you let out a soft laugh before dipping the spoon in the broth, gently blowing on it before feeding it to him. you bask in the way he allows you to feed him, showing you a vulnerability that you had never seen before. once he finishes eating the soup, you offer him two tablets and watch as he drains it with the glass of water. only when you place the emptied glass on the tray did he make his move.

with your hands free of all bowls and utensils, sylus wraps his arms around your body, crushing your form close to his chest before laying back in bed with you. a series of giggles was heard coming from your parted lips, and sylus found that he had enough strength to bask in such a sweet sound.

he continues holding you, allowing your gaze to meet with his, you gently brush back his hair with a smile, smoothing back the lines seen against his forehead before gently telling him, "go to sleep... you need it."

sylus lets out a huff of your name, taking a hold of your hand before biting down against the side of it. "only you have the power to tell me what to do and how to live my life. remember that."

returning your form closer to his embrace, sylus holds you to his chest before slowly falling into a peaceful slumber, feeling all of his stress melt away the moment your warmth begins to surround him.

{ ... }

it was just a simple cut on his cheek-

but the way he kept pouting glaring at you made it seemed like he was in an excruciating amount of pain.

sylus was mad at you, remaining settled on the couch while refusing to look at you.

"if my blood drips on the couch, then it's your fault for not healing me."

you couldn't help but roll your eyes even further upon hearing his theatrics. "sylus, you and i both know that you can survive a simple gunshot wound to the chest. this cut is nothing in comparison, my love."

a plethora of grumpy sounds were heard coming from him, his arms now settled across his chest as a bitter scowl paints his expression. "and i told you i don't like abusing my powers. so are you going to help this heal or not?"

bullshit.

if that's the case, how on earth did you heal before i came into your life?

you wanted to call him out on his lie, you really did-

but seeing the soft (almost puppy dog look) in his eyes makes you stop. as you sift through your memories and think back to all the times you had helped sylus 'heal,' you had a sudden epiphany.

perhaps it wasn't the fact that you could help him heal him, but rather...

he liked the fact that you worried and constantly doted over him, since caring for him was an integral part of your love language.

with a wistful smile, you head back into your shared bedroom, taking out your first aid kit before returning to sylus. you sit directly beside him, gently taking a hold of his chin, revealing the thin cut on his defined cheek to you. with a q-tip in hand, you apply some of the antibacterial ointment on it before gently covering the slender line of blood with it. once it was completely covered, you choose a rather colorful band-aid decorated with blue penguins, settling it directly over the cut.

"there, better?" you set off the first aid kit to the side, ready to leave when sylus grips at your wrist.

"not quite, darling. you missed a step." his eyes were shining with mischief now, pointing directly at his 'injured cheek' now covered with a bandaid. "you know what to do."

letting out a feigned sound of annoyance, you lean in closer, pressing a kiss directly over where you had placed the bandaid as you felt him smiling against your lips. before you could move away from him, sylus ends up tackling your body against the couch, littering your face with obnoxious kisses as he elicits the sounds of joyous laughter from you.

{ ... }

by the end of his reveries, he was left smiling, heart filled with love for you as he slowly joins you in bed.

making sure that his movements were slow and steady, he manages to get into bed without disturbing you, taking you into his arms with a grin on his face.

sylus takes a minute to admire you once more, brushing back your hair while relishing in your natural beauty. "i can never get enough of you..." he admits in a hoarse tone, wondering just how lucky he was to be able to say that you were his; that you belonged to him alone.

filled with adoration for you, sylus allows himself to close his eyes, visibly relaxing in bed as he places your body on top of his chest. you stir for the briefest of moments, but end up smiling in your sleep, somehow knowing that you would always be loved and protected by him...

a.n. - lmao my current major / career goals has to deal with the medical field, so this was a very self-indulgent story for me to write (⺣◡⺣)♡

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #jin woon x reader #jin woon x you #sylus x you #lads x reader #lnds x reader #l&ds x reader #.stories

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alygator77 · 3 months

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∘₊✧─moment of weakness─✧₊∘

✧ pairing. satoru gojo x fem! reader (also ft suguru geto)

✧ summary. after a rough night at the bar, you are drunk out of your mind and decided to ask your best friend satoru to come pick you up to take you home. but during the car ride the alcohol starts giving you courage, making you feel rather bold as you make a move on your best friend. did this ruin your friendship? was this a mistake, or does he reciprocate your feelings?

✧ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, smut, bit of angst, reader is drunk for first half, friends to lovers, mutual pining, somewhat public sex, car sex, groping while driving, dry humping, handjob teasing (m), fingering (f! receiving), satoru and reader in their 20s and both work at jujutsu high, both are powerful sorcerers, satoru takes care of you while you’re sick, satoru is also being an idiot, suguru makes a move on you, takes place before suguru leaves jujutsu high, will end with fluff

✧ words: 12.7k (yeeeeah idk what happened)

✧ a/n. this will be two parts because I'm currently sitting at 20k words, I have no clue how this happened... so I'm splitting it up. anyways, this is just a little side story that I have had brainrot for and had to get it out :)

✧ part two: moment of passion

“'toruuuu~” you call his name is a singsong childish voice while he pulls you into an embrace outside of the bar. Leaning into you, he can smell the liquor on you as you sway a little and give him an adorable pout. It’s not often he gets to see you like this.

“Take me home please, I'm bored here,” you sigh and nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

Amused at this side of you, an affectionate hum leaves his lips as he tugs you even closer. You're being extra clingy today. Satoru can't help but snicker softly, his hold around your waist tightening. His hand slides lower to rest against the curve of your hip; slender, nimble fingers digging into your skin through the thin layer of your skirt.

A low amused chuckle falls from his lips as you snuggled into him. His face buries into your hair, his chin pressed softly against your tilted head. "You're such a needy little thing," he murmurs against your ear, his breath warm and almost ticklish. "And drunk off your damn ass, too. I’ll take you home."

Despite his words, his arms stay where they are. He was relishing in this clingy version of you, much more than the usual, sober you who tends to get irritated by him and push him away.

But who were you to push him away right now? Typically, you would do so in an attempt to distance yourself, to keep yourself in check. Afterall, Satoru is your best friend, but underneath the surface there has always been a part of you that craves more from him. Yet in this moment, you simply want to enjoy his gentle embrace.

With a soft exhale into Satoru's neck, you become enveloped in his warmth. It's a soothing contrast from the cool bite of the outside wind. A low groan escapes his lips as your warm breath tickles his neck, each puff sending a jolt of electricity running down his spine. He wishes he could stay like this forever.

It's always been this way— you're the only person who can make him feel things like this. Satoru and you have been friends for years. It started off as mere fellow jujutsu sorcerers, working together on missions, defeating curses together, but at one point it grew into something much more personal, with your late-night phone calls, lunch dates and movie marathons. That’s how it’s always been now, for as long as you can remember – you, Satoru and Suguru. And despite how much Satoru can get on your nerves sometimes, with his childish demeanor, emotional constipation and somewhat cocky attitude, he is always there for you.

You click your tongue before speaking, a cheeky smirk upon your lips. "Suguru challenged me to a drinking contest. Who am I to say no?"

Satoru's eyebrow quirks up at your response. Trust Geto to influence you into doing stupid things. Though, a subtle hint of irritation stirs within him when you mention his name. He begrudgingly recalls that as of recently, his best friend's gazes tends to linger a moment too long on your figure whenever interacting with you. Satoru’s admiration for you has grown into something he can’t quiet explain. He’s never felt this way about, well, anyone. Yet somehow, you manage to pull at him, thawing the icy heart he shields from everyone else. But he’s scared – if he is to act on those feelings, he’s certain it’ll only cause you both pain. He’s the strongest sorcerer after all, that easily makes you a target. So, he chooses to push his emotions down and continues to be what he’s always been for you, your best friend.

"Of course you're not. You're a glutton for punishment," he sighs, his fingers giving your hip a gentle squeeze. "You just had to prove yourself, huh? Why do I have a feeling you didn't even last a few shots? You're such a lightweight," he teases, his tone a mixture of amusement and affection.

His hand moves lower to hold the back of your thigh – a gasp escaping your lips, immediately followed by a soft giggle as he easily lifts you off your feet. “You're lucky I'm here to take you home, princess."

With a gentle sigh, you rest your head against his chest as he holds you in his embrace. The soft sound of his heartbeat soothes you as he begins to carry you towards his car. "You're the best 'toru. Always taking care of me."

A rare, fond smile tugs at the corners of his lips as you murmur those words, his heart skipping a beat inside his chest. Despite his usual nonchalant and cocky demeanor, Satoru has always had a soft spot for you. He may not admit it, of course, but secretly, he craves your praise.

"Of course I am." he muses, carrying you effortlessly towards his car. As he walks, his chin brushes gently against the top of your head. "Someone has to watch over you so you don't get into trouble. You're a magnet for mishaps." His tone playful, but laced with a hint of protectiveness. "Can't have someone else picking you up from the bar all drunk, now can I?"

Satoru opens the passenger door and carefully sets you inside, leaning over momentarily to click your seatbelt into place. He then walks around and enters the driver side. You lean your head back on the headrest, gently closing your eyes and exhaling with a slight annoyance as you take a moment to recall what happened moments before Satoru picked you up.

"Ugh. You won't believe it. Suguru was insisting I go home with him tonight.. and he was being real persistent," the alcohol is clearly loosening your tongue a bit more, and it doesn’t help that you never really gave yourself a moment to process what had happened.

Satoru freezes for a brief moment, his hand hovering over the ignition. His jaw clenches briefly at the mention of Geto again – did his closest friend actually make a move on you? It sets off a flicker of jealousy within him. Not that he'd explicitly show it, instead, a nonchalant expression maintains his features as he starts up the car. The engine hums to life, casting a low rumble in the otherwise silent vehicle.

"Is that so?" he replies, feigning nonchalance despite the subtle edge that underlines his tone. His gaze briefly flickers in your direction before focusing back on the road. "And why would he suddenly want to do that?"

You stare out at the road and lift an eyebrow, biting your lip as you hesitate – you’ve always had a slight suspicion that maybe Satoru also has feelings for you, he undeniably is affectionate.. but it’s hard for you to know for certain if that affection is romantic since he is always so hot and cold with you. One moment he’s worshiping you, the next he’s pushing you away. And deep down you know it’s probably for the best to remain the way you are – you’re content having him in your life, even if it’s just as your best friend, though a part of you still pines for him.

You wonder how he'll respond when you tell him about Suguru. Satoru’s always been protective over you. But you feel that as your best friend, he should know. That's why you called him. After everything that happened, he was the only person you thought of, the only person you wanted to see.

"Well, considering the way he tried to kiss me tonight, I'm assuming he didn't wanna talk."

Satoru's grip on the steering wheel tightens visibly at your revelation, his knuckles turning slightly paler as his hold on the leather material strains. A wave of bitterness washes over him, his eyes growing darker as he processes what you'd just said. He’s always buried this bitterness deep down when he’d watch you with other men, but Suguru? A twinge of betrayal stirs in him.

His gaze remains fixed on the road ahead, the car's headlights cutting through the night. He clears his throat slightly, his voice low and measured. "And how did you respond to that?"

Bringing your hand to your face, you shake your head in disbelief as if you’re trying to shoo the mere image out of your mind. You, Satoru and Suguru were an inseparable trio. The three of you have been the best of friends for… well what feels like practically forever. But lately, Suguru has been acting rather…odd. That’s why his advances tonight really caught you off guard. It just didn't feel...right.

"Well.. obviously, I pushed him away. I don’t know what came over him, but I was not having it. So, I immediately called you to come get me."

As you describe the encounter, a wave of relief washes over Satoru. It appeases him to know that your reaction wasn't one of reciprocation. His hold on the steering wheel eases a fraction, his shoulders losing some tension. He hums softly in acknowledgment, his gaze flickering in your direction for a brief moment.

"Good," he replies, a hint of protectiveness seeping into his tone. "You should always call me if someone tries to bother you, alright? I'll always come get you. I'd rather have you with me than with anyone else any day."

You giggle and turn your head to the side facing Satoru, the warmth of the alcohol giving a soft flush to your cheeks. You admire Satoru's profile while his eyes are peeled to the road. He is so beautiful in the moonlight, his snowy hair as smooth as silk, tousles hanging loose amongst his white lashes – the headlights illuminating his cerulean blue eyes, eyes you find yourself getting lost in.

Wait.. did he just imply that he wants me? You think.

Have you perhaps had too much to drink? Was that a slip up, or did you imagine it?

"You'd, rather have me with you?" You repeat his words back slowly, gazing at him.

Satoru's grip on the steering wheel loosens slightly, his thumb tracing a lazy pattern against its leather surface as he navigates the darkened roads. He glances in your direction, meeting your gaze for a moment before turning his attention back to the road – the way your eyes trace over his features, bathed by the passing street lights, nearly makes his breath catch in his throat.

The words he uttered moments before replay in his mind, and he realizes just how much they might have revealed. Usually, you’d simply dismiss his subtle advances, or he’d play them off with a witty comment, but tonight there was a look in your eyes, and the gentle seriousness in your voice... It caught him slightly off guard.

"Yeah. I would," he responds, his tone softer than usual.

A brief moment of silence fills the car, his words hanging in the air like a heavy promise. You shift your body to the side entirely, facing directly towards him as you lay back in your seat – your cheek pressed flush against the cool leather as you watch him intently. The intimacy in the car is palpable. You reach your hand out and rest it on Satoru's leg.

"'Toru..."

Satoru's breath hitches at the feeling of your hand on his leg. It's a simple gesture, a subtle touch, but it sends a jolt coursing through his body. The way you say his name in that moment, he’s heard you say it every day, but this was different. The warmth you suddenly inject into the small space, he can’t simply disregard it.

He steals a glance at you, his eyes darkening as he sees the intensity of your gaze. His muscles tense, both from the impact of your touch and the unexpected shift in the atmosphere.

"..yeah?" he replies, his voice a low, almost husky whisper.

You feel the liquor driving your body in a way you cannot stop. You begin to rub small intimate circles on his leg with your fingertips – brushing him ever so gently as you caress slowly up his thigh. There are words you’ve been eager to say but have locked up deep within you – suddenly the alcohol is causing your shackles to break, betraying your sense of restraint.

"I realized tonight.. I really wanted to see you. I only want you. That's why I called," your breath a whisper, your eyes bearing into him with deep longing.

Satoru can barely concentrate on the road anymore. Your gentle touch, the way your fingertips graze over him – it ignites a fire within him. His thighs flex under your caress, your gesture sending sparks of pleasure throughout him.

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Your words, the truth in your confession, hit him like a ton of bricks. He'd been wanting to hear those words for so long, and now that they were finally being voiced, it somehow seemed too good to be true.

He inhales sharply, the air caught in his lungs. "You’re drunk. Only me, huh?" he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse as his gaze momentarily flickers to meet yours. The raw honesty in your eyes stirs something primal within him.

The unpredictable movements of your fingertips begin to climb higher up his thigh, dangerously close to his groin. Your eyes do not waver, intently looking at him with a burning passion. A passion that you had buried deep inside yourself for many, many years.

It’s a passion you’ve been bottling up – you’ve been denying yourself your affection towards Satoru. Denying your love for him. And while there may have been subtle hints that he reciprocated your feelings, there was also an inexplicable fear of breaking the friendship you have built up over many years. That is why usually, you would just turn a blind eye, and so would he. You both accepted this is how it would always be.

But you crave him so much. You crave his touch.

"Only you, 'toru. I... need you."

A soft, almost strangled gasp escapes Satoru's lips as your fingers move higher, the sudden intensity of your touch driving him into madness. He tightens his grip on the wheel, his knuckles turning white from the sheer force. His eyes briefly flicker back to yours, your intense gaze not missed by him.

"Fuck,” he mutters, a hint of desperation in his voice. The need in your words, the way you express your want for him, it causes his stomach to flip in a way he’s never felt before. “What are you doing to me, love?”

Your lips curl into a smile as you hear his voice waver. It’s a side of him you have never had the privilege to see. An intense ache pulses in between your legs as you feel pure, wet, desire begin to cloud your judgement. Why was it you didn’t act more daring with Satoru before? You suddenly can’t remember, because right now all you know is that you just want to hear more of those sounds from him. Make him become undone from you.

Your fingertips brush gently, teasingly, against the slight bulge forming under the taut fabric of Satoru's pants.

"Do you want me to stop?" your voice a silky whisper.

Satoru's breath hitches, a shiver raking down his spine as your fingers brush against the growing arousal in his pants. You have never been this bold with him. It takes every ounce of his restraint not to shudder visibly. He clenches his jaw, his gaze fixated on the road ahead, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

"I... fuck," he manages to mutter, his gaze flicking between the road and you. "Don't you dare," he responds, his voice thick and raspy. "If you stop, I might just lose my damn mind."

You bite your lip and trace your fingers up to the tip of his now prominent bulge – feeling it twitch with a needy desire underneath your digits. A slight wet patch begins to form, seeping through his trousers. Satoru nearly jerks the wheel as shock waves of pleasure shoot up his spine. A sharp exhale escaping his lips, his body reacting viscerally to your touch. It takes every ounce of control for him not to lose it entirely. He can barely keep his eyes on the road, the urge to look at you, to devour you, is almost unbearable.

You click your tongue smugly, a self-satisfied smile forming across your lips. "Tsk tsk~ 'toru, eyes on the road."

Another strangled sound escapes from somewhere deep within him. The way you touch him, the way you tease him, ignites a fire that burns throughout his veins. His mind is swimming with pure need, his hands trembling against the wheel.

"You're... going to be the death of me," he manages to utter, his voice a strained growl. But he can't stop himself from glancing at you, his azure eyes almost black with desire. "You're such a damn tease. I want to pull over and... God." He trails off, his teeth clenched.

You press your palm down on his erection, feeling it grow underneath the pressure, and you enjoy quite literally having him in the palm of your hands. The street lights darting behind Satoru's longing stare, each flicker of light revealing beautiful glimpses of his desperation for you.

"Come on 'toru. Hurry up and take me home. We're almost there," you knowingly tease him with a subtle plea.

Satoru’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, his head falling back against the seat, as you press your palm against his aching length. Was he dreaming? He lets out a low groan, a mixture of need and frustration that he's unable to act on, yet. His eyes flash open and he briefly shakes his head as he quickly remembers he’s still infact driving.

He growls and presses down on the gas, the speed of the car gradually increasing as he fights to maintain his control. "You'd better be ready for what you're doing to me, love. You're playing with fire."

The road stretches ahead, the car's headlights illuminating the way, the distance seemingly insurmountable. You catch sight of familiar houses through the window behind Satoru, which immediately tells you that you are on the street of your apartment complex. Feeling that needy ache between your legs again, you crave more. Your hand trails up to the zipper of Satoru's pants, slowly pulling it down to expose his boxers, bulge pushing hard against the cloth as it is covered in a pool of precum – aching, and desperate for you.

"God, 'toru," you gasp at the sight. Even though it is hidden underneath the fabric, you can tell that it is undeniably, big.

The sound of the zipper being undone is like a siren's call in his ears, his breath catching in his chest. "Fuck," he mutters, his voice a gravelly rasp. "You're... unbelievable. You're... so damn impatient," he manages to bite out, his voice a wrecked, strangled whisper.

His thighs tremble with an uncontrollable shudder as you look at his arousal – he looks at your soft supple lips, and he wants so badly to shove his cock deep into your throat, the need to have you consuming him, gasping and moaning. It’s an imagine that he would often fantasize about.

"If you keep teasing me like this, I promise you—” as he trails off the car suddenly comes to a halt, the engine shutting off as Satoru pulls up to the curb outside your apartment building.

The moment the car stills, the only sound being the rhythmic pace of his ragged breaths, Satoru looks over at you, his eyes raking in the sight of your face — flushed and full of yearning. His gaze dark and intense, his pupils dilated with raw desire.

He watches as you unbuckle your seatbelt, the sound of the click echoes in the small space. And in that moment, it acts as if a switch flipped inside of him, unleashing something primal within. He quickly unbuckles his own seatbelt and turns towards you with haste.

His hand promptly reaches out, grasping your wrist, his grip firm and unrelenting. "Not so fast," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. He reaches for your thighs, his fingers almost trembling with the need to touch you. His body moves with a desperate fervor and a harsh grip as he tugs you across the center console and onto his lap, his strong arms encircling you tightly. The air is thick with tension, the desire between you two palpably tangible.

"Come here," he whispers. His hand grasping the back of your neck and guiding you towards him. You feel your clothed clit press against his length and moan, pushing forward as you crash your lips against his own.

The moment your lips meet his, he practically growls, his own groan mingling with yours as you rock against his aching arousal. His hands immediately finding purchase against your thighs, his grip on you is almost bruising, a physical manifestation of his need for you.

The taste of you, the feel of your body on his lap, pushes him to the edge of what little control he had as his hands begin to wander freely, roaming possessively over your body, as if he needs to touch you everywhere at once – touching and massaging, as if trying to commit every curve and contour to memory.

His tongue dips into your mouth, exploring and claiming your tongue hungrily. His hands moving beneath your shirt, his palms searing against your skin. “You.. don't know... how long... I've wanted you," he manages to mutter between kisses – his breath coming in as hot gasps as his body trembles with the sheer intensity of his desire.

A guttural moan rumbles from deep within his chest, his hips jerking involuntarily as you grind against him. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down the length of your neck, his teeth nibbling and biting possessively along the way. A hand underneath your shirt cups your breast, gently flicking your nipple between his index finger and thumb, while his other hand roams below your skirt, greedily seeking to touch more of you as he circles around your wet sensitive bud through your already soaked underwear.

“Nngh… ‘toru,” you moan. The heat between you two is fierce, a burning tension that has been years in the making. He relishes the sound of his name escaping your lips in a desperate moan. He wants to hear it again, hear the sound of it on your lips, as he claims you entirely.

His hand on your clit moves hungrily, his touch exploring greedily as he aches to feel more of your arousal. “You're so wet for me," he breaths against your skin, his touch growing more insistent, more urgent. "I can feel how badly you want this. Need this."

He pulls the fabric of your panties to the side, exposing your pretty folds dripping in pools of nectar, and he begins to tease your entrance. His mouth moves from your neck to your ear, his lips grazing over the sensitive flesh of your earlobe. "Say my name again," he whispers, his voice a low, demanding growl.

“Please… ‘toru,” you plead. Satoru's eyes fix on your face, he drinks in the sight of you – flushed and filled with need, lips plump and pink. A sight he’s only ever dreamed of, and now he cannot believe that he actually has you like this on top of him. It’s so captivating it makes his heart pound against his ribcage like a caged beast.

He moans softly against your ear, a low growl rumbling in his throat as you say his name — just how he wanted. His own breath comes in ragged gasps as he continues to tease your entrance. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice roughened with need. "Beg for me. Beg me to give you what you need."

An inch of his finger presses against your entrance, his touch gentle yet insistent, as his thumb slowly circles your sensitive bud, teasing and tormenting you, his touch hungry and demanding.

"You're so unfair," you moan, pleading and desperate for more. "Please 'toru, please. Need you now."

"Good girl," he grins as he parts your lower lips and thrusts his digit in deep, feeling the warmth around your plush warm walls. Your body arches back in pleasure as you let out a loud and longing moan. The sound of your moan fills the air, a symphony of desire that only feeds the fire within him. "You're so pretty like this," he murmurs, his voice a ragged whisper. "So desperate. So needy."

He begins scraping inside you softly and slowly, curling his fingers up as your walls clamp down on him, needy for more. You feel the heat rising in the car. The air is thick with your combined breaths, the windows fogged up like a veil of desire.

“Fuck ‘toru.. so good… need more,” pleading to him between your moans, your essence dripping onto him while the squelching sound of your juices fill the air.

"You want more, huh?" he breathes, his voice a low, growl. "You want everything I have to give, love?" He continues to tease you, his finger and thumb working in unison as he adds a second digit, his movements insistent. "Well, I intend to give you just that."

Moaning his name in pleasure from the intrusion, you slowly rock your hips upon his hand. The other hand continues to caress your breast as his claims your nipple with soft stimulating circles. You feel yourself eagerly approaching a sweet release. "Nnngh, don't stop 'toru... m' close"

"So close," he echoes, his voice a low, gravelly growl. "I can feel you clenching around my fingers, love. You want it so badly, don't you?" He continues, his pace quickening, determined to send you over the edge.

Your hands take purchase on Satoru's hair, intertwining his white locks between your fingertips, you lightly pull at the tousles with a desperate need to grab something, anything, as you ride out the wave of overwhelming ecstasy that he gives you. Satoru leans into the touch of your hands as you grasp for him, his eyes never leaving your face. The sight of you, flushed and wanting, only feeds his desire to give you what you need, his cock throbbing underneath you.

His fingers continue their onslaught, increasing pace and delving deeper into your core, his own breath coming in ragged gasps. You rest your forehead gently against his own while the speed of your grinding increases, eagerly matching the movement of his thrusts. "That's it sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice a ragged whisper. "Just let go for me. I want to feel you come unraveled in my hands."

His motions become more insistent, his fingers finding the spots that make you shudder and gasp. "Nnngh.. Satoru.. m' cuming."

"Cum for me, love. I want to hear you scream my name," he breathes against your lips before he captures them in a heated kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with fervor. His fingers move more urgently, his pace relentless, determined to send you over the edge – and he does just that as you come completely undone on top of him. Moaning his name into his mouth, you feel the sweet release drip down his hand, drenching him completely.

Fuck, he wanted to cum right then and there. Holding you close, his arm encircles your waist as he swallows your moans, his tongue claiming your mouth as he kisses you deeply and greedily. His fingers slow their pace, gently guiding you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Pulling away from the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours while groaning in satisfaction. “That's my girl," he breathes, his voice a husky whisper. "You're so beautiful."

He slowly withdraws from within you, his hand glistening with your sweetness, and he brings his fingers to his mouth, slowly licking them clean while a low groan of pleasure escapes his lips. “Need to taste more of you.”

Every nerve in your body begins to sing with hungry desire, your head slightly spinning from the liquor while your skin tingles with the aftershocks of your pleasure. The sight of him, lazily licking his fingers clean, sends a new wave of heat through you, and Satoru’s words, so primal and possessive, only serve to stoke the flames of need within you. He shifts beneath you, his hands moving to your thighs now, gripping you tightly and pulling you down closer to his evident arousal, only separated against the thin fabric of his boxers.

"You'd better get me upstairs,” you urge, breathless from the heat of the moment and hungry for more – more of him. All of him. “I don’t think I can bear much more of this. Need you inside me," your breath tickles him as your teeth lightly nip at the sensitive skin across the length of his neck, moaning softly while you leave a trail of burning kisses across his flesh.

His body shudders under your touch as you graze him, and you feel his cock twitch against you. The feeling of your mouth on his skin is like a drug, driving his desire to a fever pitch. He leans back against the headrest, his head tilting back in pleasure, exposing more of his neck to your hungry lips.

"You're driving me crazy," he growls, his voice a low, gravelly whisper. "The things I want to do to you... you don't need to tell me twice."

But while he fumbles for the door handle, you grin against the crook of his neck as you begin to press yourself further on top of him, slowly grinding against his aching length. Ragged gasps escape his lips and you are pleased with how you have him writhing beneath you.

“Nngh.. fuck it,” he hisses. “I need you. Right. Now. Hold on tight."

And in a moment, you feel yourself pulled by a magnetizing force. You blink, and suddenly there you are, laying against Satoru exactly as you were, but now directly on top of your bed inside your apartment. He teleported you there, unable to wait a second longer.

You’ve experienced Satoru’s teleporting technique in the past, but there is one thing you both failed to take into consideration, you were drunk. The sudden force of being projected through space and time makes your stomach twist in discomfort, you bring your hand to your mouth in an attempt to fight off the nausea, and Satoru's eyes widen as he realizes the sudden shift in your demeanor, the color draining from your face as you quickly scramble off of him.

A pang of guilt stabs at his heart as he realizes what he's done – he had temporarily forgotten your slightly impaired state. Concern etched across his features, he watches you stumbling towards the bathroom, your balance betraying you. Satoru springs to action, catching you, his hands reaching out to steady you.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, his hands gently encircling your waist as he leans you against him, guiding you carefully. "Shit, love, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. You alright?"

The room begins to spin as Satoru guides you towards the toilet. You slump down in front of it and begin retching, the nausea beating you in an already lost battle. Tears well up in your eyes from the burning pain that stings your throat.

Satoru's expression twists in concern as he kneels beside you on the floor, his hand gently rubbing soothing circles on your back. The sight of your tears makes his heart sink, and a mix of guilt and worry clouds his features.

"Shhh... it's okay, love," he reassures, his voice laced with remorse. "Shit, I'm sorry. I should've known better.. guess I didn’t think that one through. I really shouldn't have teleported you like that in your state."

You sit in front of the toilet for what feels like an eternity, and Satoru stays beside you the entire time, offering what little comfort he can while you let it all out. You feel your body overcome with exhaustion, aching from the tension of each agonizingly painful convulsion. As you let out the last of what your stomach has to offer, your breath becomes ragged, panting with fatigue. You curl up into a ball, resting your head on Satoru’s lap whilst closing your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the overwhelming feeling that the room is spinning.

He gently brushes away the hair that sticks to your sweaty forehead, his touch tender and caring. "I'm sorry," he whispers softly. "I should have been more thoughtful. I shouldn't have let my impatience ruin things. I was just so caught up in the moment. You're in this state because of me."

You let out a long deep exhale while your eyes remained closed, the sound of his voice giving you slight comfort. “Satoru. I’m in this state because I thought having three shots of hard liquor and five mixed drinks was a good idea. This isn’t your fault.” Reaching for his hand, you intertwine your fingers with his own. “You weren’t the only one caught up in the moment..”

He squeezes your hand in return, his grip firm yet gentle. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, tracing small patterns on your skin.

"You know, for a woman who just emptied her stomach, you sure still know how to put things into perspective," he muses.

You scoff, a slight smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “What can I say, I’m a guru.”

"Yeah, sure. You’re a guru. Guru of making poor choices, maybe," he quips back at you with a grin. “You really thought five drinks was a good idea? You've always been a lightweight, but this time you really outdid yourself, princess," he teases.

“Shut up.” You laugh, your eyes still closed as you nuzzle your face more into the warmth of his lap.

He lifts his other hand to your face, his thumb brushing away a tear that lingered on your cheek. "I still feel guilty, though," he admits, his voice carrying a gentle tone. "I should have been more cautious, especially since I know how your tolerance is when you're drunk."

"Well hey, at least we’ve learned our lesson, right? No more teleporting drunk girls."

He chuckles and lets out a small sigh, his eyes tracing the contour of your face. "You've always been a handful when you're drunk, always tending to do things recklessly when alcohols involved. Like drinking more than you should, or getting your hand stuck in the Pringles can. Or…" he trails off, briefly recalling your shared passion in the car.

Your tired eyes flutter open, revealing a lazy smile as you respond with a playful glint. "Oh come on, getting my hand stuck in a Pringles can was a one-time thing. And it was your fault."

He looks down at you with a mixture of concern and affection. Was this all just another one of your drunk antics? He desperately wanted to know your feelings, but now wasn’t the time. You needed rest, and it’s probably best if you’re both level headed for that conversation.

"You’re gonna drink some water and brush your teeth, alright? Then, we'll get you into bed," his voice is gentle yet firm.

You nod weakly in agreement, appreciating his care and concern in that moment. The events of the night and the nausea had drained any energy you had left. Summoning the little strength that you had to pull yourself up from the floor, Satoru's supportive presence is there to stabilize you. You allow him to help you to your feet, steadying yourself against him as the room continues to spin.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good plan," you mumble softly. "I'm so tired.”

Satoru's touch is gentle and attentive as he guides you through a routine of cleaning up - supporting you to the sink to brush your teeth, helping you brush your hair and gently drying your face with a clean towel.

“Thank you, ‘toru." You mumble softly, and he smiles warmly in response. His arms lift you from the bathroom, carrying you like a delicate treasure through the hallway to your bedroom. He slowly lowers you onto the soft bed sheets with a feather-light touch and brings you a glass of water.

Satoru tenderly strips you of your evening clothes, replacing them with the comfort of your satin pajamas. The fabric is soft and soothing against your weary body and his fingers delicately guide each limb as he moves. He pulls the blankets over you, tucking you in like a cocoon. You shiver slightly as the cool sheets touch your skin, but as you sink into the softness of your bed, the exhaustion seeps into your bones, and you can feel your eyelids growing heavy.

Kneeling beside the bed, Satoru gently brushes a strand of hair away from your forehead, searching your face with a mixture of concern and affection. "Do you need anything else?" he asks, his voice a low and soothing murmur.

With a soft smile of contentment on your face, you reach a drowsy hand over to him and grab onto the fabric of his shirt, holding onto him. "Stay with me," you murmur, the words barely more than a tired whisper.

He chuckles softly, endeared by your drowsy voice and the way you hold onto him. Without another word, he carefully maneuvers himself onto the bed, climbing in beside you. Once he's settled in, he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms tightly around your body.

He reaches forward to switch off your bedside lamp, plunging the room into a soothing darkness. He buries his face into your hair, inhaling your familiar scent as he settles into the comfort of holding you. "I'm here," he whispers softly, his voice a soothing rumble against your ear. "Not going anywhere, love."

You feel warm – this is everything you’ve always wanted. But as you battle falling out of consciousness, you cannot stop your mind from racing. The memories of Satoru being hot and cold with his affection of you in the past – you desperately hope your feelings reached him properly. After all this, he wouldn’t push you away again… right?

“Don’t leave…” your words a soft murmur in the quiet room, revealing the vulnerability and fear lurking in the depths of your heart.

Satoru's expression turns somber as he considers your plea, his arms instinctively tightening their embrace around you. "I'm not going anywhere." he repeats, his voice soft in your ear. He feels the weight of your body relax against him as you slowly drift off to sleep.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

As you slowly slip into unconsciousness, Satoru remains wide awake, his thoughts swirling like a tempest in his mind. The memory of your shared passion weighs heavy on him, it was a moment where you were drunk while he was sound in mind – he can't shake the feeling that he was too selfish, too impulsive. He feels torn between the desire to submit to his love for you and the knowledge that it may put you in danger. Guilt gnaws at his heart.

∘₊✧

A slight beam of sun filters in through the curtains of your apartment, casting rays upon your face. Your eyes flutter open and you immediately feel an intense pang upon your temple, suddenly remembering just how much you drank last night.

You exhale in discomfort, rolling to the side to see yourself greeted with an empty bed… the sheets beside you are cool to the touch, evidence of Satoru's absence. Suddenly, memories of last night begin to flood your mind. You groan, covering your face with your arm. You acted recklessly… but you don’t regret it. You’ve desperately wanted Satoru for so long, and now you really didn’t want to lose him. Does he think last night was a mistake?

Your phone suddenly pings with a text notification. You fumble to reach for it on your nightstand, wincing as the brightness of the screen assaults your sensitive eyes. As you read the words in the message your heart jumps – can we talk about last night?

Fluttering your eyes briefly, you rub them sleepily in an attempt to steady your vision. You prop yourself up on your bed and take another good look at the message.

Suguru Geto: Can we talk about last night?

The phone feels heavy in your hand as you consider how to respond. You groan and plop back down into the mattress face first, the memories of Suguru's attempted kiss at the bar last night adding another layer of complication to your already throbbing headache.

You know you’ll need to address Suguru, but first you needed to get some food and medicine in you. After taking some Tylenol and chugging three glasses of water to help with the aftermath of your drunken night, you make a cup of coffee and fix yourself a slice of toast and a banana, hoping it'll quell the empty feeling in your stomach. You take a seat at the table, slowly nibbling on the food and sipping the coffee, feeling the caffeine start to help clear your still groggy state.

Once you've had your small makeshift breakfast, you pick up your phone again, steeling yourself to reply to Suguru's message. You muster the courage and quickly type –

Me: Yeah, we can talk.

You continue to take another sip of your coffee, and are surprised to see the phone chime almost immediately after you sent your message.

Suguru Geto: Okay. Meet you later tonight? After work?

Me: Sure.

∘₊✧

As you enter through the doors of Jujutsu High, Shoko's voice cuts through the air, making you wince as your lingering headache throbs.

“You look like shit,” she bluntly remarks as she observes you shuffle heavily on the floor, black sunglasses shield your gaze from the intense light that searches for you through the windows of the hallway.

“Gee, thanks Sho,” you mumble sarcastically.

She raises an eyebrow before continuing, her voice laced with a hint of suspicion. “By the time I got to the bar, you were already gone. You left earlier than I expected, we didn’t even get to do karaoke. What happened last night?”

“Honestly?” you say, trying to find the words. “I’m not even too sure myself what happened last night. What did Suguru tell you?”

Shoko studies your face closely, her eyes narrowing as she tries to make out your expression behind your dark sunglasses. She takes a moment to assess your state, her expression a mixture of concern and subtle curiosity.

"He didn't say much," she says slowly. "Just that you had a good time at the bar and then you randomly left early. But I could tell something was bothering him. He seemed pretty… distracted." She pauses for a moment, tilting her head slightly. "He also mentioned that you left with Gojo," she adds.

“Yeah… I was feeling sick so he took me home,” you reply slowly, trying not to give too much away. You really wanted to talk to Satoru himself before mentioning anything about last night to anyone else.

Shoko furrows her brow at your response, sensing that there's more to the story than what you're letting on. But she doesn't press further, sensing your reluctance to say more.

“Hey, speaking of… where is Satoru?” you ask while briefly glancing through the halls. “Usually he’s the first one here, ready to pester me.”

"Gojo's been pretty mysterious today. He got here earlier this morning, but he was in a weird mood. He didn't say a word to anyone and just headed straight to his office. He seemed preoccupied with something."

“I see...” you say, slight concern filtered in your voice. You really wanted to talk to Satoru, but does he want space? He left while you were sleeping last night, hasn’t texted you, and didn’t greet you like he usually does. Your heart feels a bit heavy with concern – you really hope that your actions didn’t ruin things between you two. How would you even face him? You shake your head, trying to push away the lingering thoughts. Time to focus on the task at hand – you had to get through work, then later you’d address Suguru.

Shoko eyes you closely, sensing the hint of worry in your voice. She hesitates for a moment before speaking, her voice a gentle yet firm reassurance. "Don't worry about it, I'm sure he's just busy. You know how he is, being the strongest and all."

You nod, trying to brush off the nagging feeling that something was off with Satoru. Maybe he really was just busy. "Yeah, you're right," you say, forcing a smile. “Anyways I gotta head to my mission. See you around Sho.”

"See you later. Be careful on your mission, okay?" With a final wave, she turns to head towards her own work. You take a deep breath and trek forward as you mentally prepare yourself for your assignment. You can’t afford to be distracted right now.

∘₊✧

While you’re nowhere near as strong as Satoru or Suguru, you are by no means a weak sorcerer. You hold the rank of Grade A, slowly making a name for yourself in the Jujutsu world. Typically, you can handle missions on your own, it’s really not often that you’re paired up with anyone for your assignments, but today you’ve been paired up with your fellow sorcerer, Nanami Kento, and thank god you are because the bothersome hangover almost makes you lose sight of a dreadful curse lurking in the shadows. It lunges directly at you – Nanami saves you with a black flash and eliminates the curse effortlessly.

Nanami shoots you a disapproving glance. "You need to pay attention," he says gruffly, his eyes narrowing at your distracted state. "You could've avoided that attack if you weren't so lost in thought."

You nod with a subtle grimace, and of course Nanami, as observant as ever, notices your struggle. "Are you alright, y/n?" he asks, his eyes still firm but there is concern in his voice.

“Yeah… thanks Nanami. Guess I’m just a little out of it today. Can you finish up here? I’ll go head back to campus and report to Yaga.”

Nanami studies you for a moment, his gaze assessing your tired appearance before nodding in understanding. "Alright. Be careful on your way back."

You head back towards Jujutsu High, the walk is peaceful, the sun slowly meeting the horizon. You look down at your phone, it reads 4:47pm. Your empty mailbox gnaws at you, it’s clear evidence that Satoru still hasn’t reached out to you. Agitated, you hastily tap your fingers on the keyboard, and hit send –

Me: Hey. Thanks for taking care of me last night.

After the message is sent, you stare at your phone, your fingers tapping the screen anxiously, waiting for a reply – a blue bubble, anything. But the minutes tick by and there’s nothing. The empty screen mocks you, the silence deafening, your heart sinks further.

Were you overthinking things? A pang of disappointment chews at you as the screen remains stubbornly empty. You brush your phone into your pocket and continue to walk towards the school. After a few silent minutes, although it felt like an eternity, you feel the buzz in your pocket. Quickly, you pick it up and look down to see a simple reply.

Satoru Gojo: Anytime.

A scoff escapes your lips, frustration and worry tug at the corners of your mind. The one worded message just as unbearable as his radio silence. Shaking your head, you stuff your phone back into your pocket as you walk through the entrance of Jujutsu High once again. Is this day over yet? Oh yeah, you almost forgot, you still have to talk to Suguru. Your misfortune never ends.

∘₊✧

“I see, so you and Nanami successfully defeated the curse in Ginza.” Principal Yaga speaks to you while he shuffles through the papers on his desk, his eyes not looking up at you while you give him your mission report.

“Great work y/n. You can head home for today,” But as you’re about to step out the door, Yaga promptly stops you with a sudden request.

"Actually, y/n. One more thing.”

“Yes sir?”

“Before you leave, could you bring some of these documents to Gojo for me? He was supposed to handle them yesterday, but you know how he is…" he gestures to the mound of documents on his desk with a disheveled sigh. "This is urgent – the higher-ups are getting impatient."

Satoru. The thought of seeing him right now makes you anxious, however, you know that you can't refuse Yaga's request. What excuse could you possibly give Yaga anyways? You nod, feigning nonchalance while taking the pile of papers from him. "Alright," you reply, the weight of the thin parchment feeling heavy in your hands. "I'll make sure he takes care of them."

As you gather the courage to approach Satoru's office, you can hear your heart pounding in your own ears. You halt directly in front of the door and with a deep breath, you knock firmly on it. His muffled voice instructs you to enter.

The office is dimly lit, the setting sun casting shadows across the room. He sits behind his desk and his eyes flicker up to you, but his expression remains enigmatic. Those piercing azure pools seem to stare straight through you, and you can immediately see they are somewhat detached. He leans back in his chair, his gaze fixated on you as he assesses your presence. The air between you both is thick with tension.

"Hey," he says simply, breaking the silence that hangs heavy in the room, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a more reserved one, causing a pang of trepidation to shoot through you.

“Hey,” you utter. “Yaga sent me to give you these documents,” you set them down on the desk in front of him amongst more stacks of papers. “He says it’s really important you address it.”

Satoru glances idly down to the papers before looking back up at you, his expression still unreadable. His usual smirk is nowhere to be seen; it is instead replaced by a hard, serious look that leaves you feeling unsettled.

“Thanks,” he replies curtly. He picks up the stack of papers and flips through them, his eyes skim over the words without a hint of emotion.

“So… um,” you begin, unsure what it is you want to say but desperate to see him feel something, anything, that will give you some sense of relief from the growing knot in your stomach. “Have a busy day?”

Satoru looks up from the stack of papers, his gaze locking onto yours, a flicker of irritation in his eyes. He lets out a dry chuckle, a shadow of his usual playful self. "Busy?" he repeats, with a hint of annoyance. "Yeah, I guess you could call it that. Meeting after meeting, curses left and right, and the higher-ups breathing down my neck as usual." He sighs deeply, running a hand through his messy white hair.

You know that everything about him is telling you to leave him alone, but your heart aches seeing this side of him. You feel a slight sense of guilt knowing that you probably caused more trouble for him last night, considering how late he was up taking care of you. Satoru always has so much on his plate, being the strongest sorcerer and all. He’s always sacrificing his own wants and needs for everyone else.

You yearn to break his icy front. He’s always putting on a façade, never really great about talking about his emotions, opting to brush them aside with feigned aloofness. Biting your cheek, you finally let the words come out.

“Yeah… well thank you again for taking care of me last night. Sorry I caused you trouble.”

His eyes narrow slightly at your mention of last night, his expression faltering momentarily before he quickly regains his composure. That brief lapse was enough to tell you that he didn’t want you to bring it up. He sets down the stack of papers and leans back in his chair, his arms crossing his chest.

“It’s fine,” he says, waving off your thanks. “You’re just a goddamn pain in the ass when you’re drunk.” There’s a subtle smirk on his face, but it’s lacking his usual teasing tone. “Wasn’t the first time,” he mutters as his gaze returns to the stack of papers in front of him. “Though you definitely were more clingy than usual.”

“Satoru.. about that…”

“—let’s just forget about it, okay?” he interjects, his body tense, his tone icy and his eyes peeled on the papers in front of him. “It meant nothing. You were drunk and horny, I just happened to be within reach.”

Your heart drops as a wave of emotions crash through you. You felt many things in that moment. Hurt. Sad. Angry. Very angry. You were trying so hard to be mature about this but his dismissive attitude was shattering what little composure you had. He wasn’t even giving you a moment to speak. Quite frankly, you had enough.

“Are you serious right now?” your voice laced with an evident sting.

Satoru’s eyebrow raises at your sharp tone. Despite his cold demeanor, the slightest hint of surprise flickered across his features as you retorted. His gaze lifts from the papers in front of him to meet your hurt and fuming expression.

"I’m serious," he snaps back coldly. "It was a drunken mistake. Nothing more. It didn’t mean anything." He pauses, watching you intently, waiting for your response, but you are momentarily speechless as you clench your fist in frustration.

“What?” he continues, his tone sharp. “You don’t like it when I speak the truth? Because that’s what it was. It was just a drunk accident.”

“Oh, so you’re speaking for me now?” you quip. “Who are you to say what it meant to me. I was the only one drunk last night, not you.” You feel your eyes getting wet as you fight back the tears that you desperately try to stop from falling, a lump in your throat from the pain of holding them back. “So, tell me Satoru, is that what it was for you?”

“What do you want me to say? That it meant something? That I’ve secretly been pining for you all this time?” He chuckles bitterly, his gaze hard as he looks up at you. "Sorry, sweetheart. It wasn’t anything more than what it was. If you want a friend to sleep with, why don’t you crawl over to Suguru. I’m sure he’d be happy to please you."

The second the words leave his lips he instantly regrets them. His eyes widen slightly as he realizes the weight of his hurtful words, the stoic front he was maintaining crumbles as he watches a teardrop trickle down your smooth cheek, its salty wetness carving a path of sorrow. He knew that he took it too far. He was trying to push you away, to protect you from himself, protect you from his true feelings.

He closes his eyes for a brief moment, his jaw clenching as he tries to keep his own emotions in check. He hates himself for making you feel this way… but his own fears, his own insecurities, have gotten the better of him. When he opens his eyes again, he looks at you apologetically.

"I... I didn’t..." he attempts to backtrack. But before he can find the right words to say, the sound of your choked, heartbroken gasp makes him freeze.

“You have some real nerve, Gojo.” He can see the hurt, anger, and frustration in your expression, the tears were really coming out now. You felt shattered, feeling as if last night meant nothing to him – as if you meant nothing to him.

You turn your back to him as you shift towards the door, and angling your head to the side, you speak your final peace before ultimately taking your leave. “You know what? At least Suguru is vulnerable with me about his feelings. I’m done. If you won’t even listen to what I have to say, what’s the point. Guess I’ll save my breath.”

The sound of your trembling voice pierces through his chest like a knife, pained and frustrated. He clenches his jaw, fighting back his own emotions and the growing guilt that threatens to overwhelm him.

As he watches you leave, the door swings shut behind you. He’s left alone with the silence of his office suffocating him. Every fiber of him screams to go to you, to apologize, to explain himself, but he simply can’t move and the words he wants to say feel stuck in his throat.

“Damn it,” he mutters under his breath. He rests his arms on his desk and buries his face into his hands, his mind replaying the scene over and over again. He knows he’s royally fucked up – the damage is done.

∘₊✧

The sound of your footsteps echo in the campus hallways as you wipe the streaming tears off your face. Oh god, please don’t let anyone see you like this right now. You really can’t bear it. Right now, all you want is to just crawl into bed and cry. Your best friend’s words are ringing in your mind, each retelling making the tears fall harder. You felt so stupid. So embarrassed.

You push through what feels like a never-ending hallway until finally, stepping outside, you are met with Suguru leaned up against the rail of the stairway, waiting for you. He looks relaxed as always, eyes peering out through the Jujutsu campus, a cigarette between his fingers, the smoke gently curling in the air around him.

When he looks up, the sight of your tear-stained face makes him straighten up immediately. Your expression is one of raw emotional pain. Without a second thought, he quickly stubs out his cigarette and pushes himself off the railing, walking directly towards you, his voice laced with worry.

“Hey,” he says gently. “Are you alright? What happened?”

You don’t know what else to do, desperate for comfort, you run into Suguru’s arms, tears streaming down your face as you sob into his shirt. As you collapse into his arms, the force of your body against him is almost enough to knock him off balance, but he steadies himself, wrapping his arms around you as he holds you tightly against his chest. He's silent for a moment, just letting you cry, his hand gently rubbing soothing circles on your back.

After some time, he speaks, his voice gentle and filled with concern. "Y/n... what happened?"

You exhale sharply, your breath quivering as it escapes your mouth. Sniffling, you dry your eyes and shake your head. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. Please.. can we just go?”

Suguru looks down at you, his heart clenching at the sight of your broken expression. He nods silently, his hand still rubbing gentle circles on your back. "Yeah," he replies softly. "Let's get out of here."

He gently releases you from his embrace, keeping one arm wrapped around your shoulders as he guides you away from Jujutsu High.

∘₊✧

The car ride with Suguru is quiet. For your planned talk tonight, he had arranged for reservations at a charming little restaurant in a peaceful village. He briefly mentioned how he recently discovered it on an assignment he was sent on. Truth be told, you feel a bit guilty, him doing all this. After all, he went through all this trouble, and it appears that he’s willing to put his best effort forward to have a real, mature conversation with you about how he tried to kiss you last night. Suguru means so much to you, but as much as you hate to admit it, you simply can’t reciprocate his feelings, and you know that tonight will likely lead to some sort of heartache. You’ve been dreading this conversation; likely due to fear you’ve been bottling up – part of you hopes that your friendship doesn’t falter because of this. You’ve already lost one best friend today… frankly you don’t think you can handle losing another.

Suguru steals glances at you every so often as he drives through the village. He can sense your quiet demeanor and the lingering traces of sadness in your face. It’s clear that you’re still upset about something, but he doesn’t dare to pry, allowing you to have some space to collect your thoughts.

When he pulls up in front of the restaurant, he turns off the ignition and looks at you. "We’re here," he says softly, his voice gentle and tinged with concern.

As you enter the restaurant, the quaint atmosphere immediately begins to soothe your weary soul. The gentle music playing, the soft hue, and the smell of delicious food wafting through the air work together to create a warm and comforting environment.

Suguru leads you to a cozy booth in a somewhat secluded corner of the restaurant and slides in opposite of you.

His eyes study you silently. He watches as your gaze roams around the room, taking in the ambiance of the restaurant, before finally you focus on him. “The food here is pretty good,” he comments, attempting to break the ice between you. “I hope you like it.”

“Mmm,” you hum, nodding. “It smells amazing. I’m really hungry. I barely ate this morning. My stomach was turning all day from last night.”

Suguru winces slightly as memories of last night resurface in his mind. "Yeah… about last night," his voice tentative. "We should probably talk about that."

“Right,” you lock eyes with him as let out a sigh. Might as well get straight to it. “Would you like to go first?”

"Alright…look," he begins, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. "I know things got a little out of hand last night. Firstly, I want to apologize for that. I didn’t mean to cross any boundaries with you…" he pauses momentarily, looking down at the table, taking a moment to steady himself before he looks back up at you.

"And secondly. I... I need to be honest with you. I love you. Like, romantically. I think you're beautiful, smart, kind. And honestly...I'm tired of hiding it. I’ve felt this way for a long time. And last night, it just felt like the right moment to tell you...to show you."

“I see…” you say, the weight of his confession is heavy. You can’t help but feel terrible. Here he was, taking accountability for his actions and being completely open with you... but you can’t lie to him about your feelings. And you didn’t want to string him along, it wouldn’t be right.

“Suguru, you’ve been one of my closest friends for a long time. I do love you, just not in the same way I think you feel about me… I’m sorry. I hope you understand.”

Suguru’s expression softens as he listens to your words, a mixture of acceptance and disappointment washing over him.

"Yeah... I kind of thought that might be your answer, " he admits, his voice soft. "I just..." he pauses, running a hand through his hair, "I guess I needed to tell you, to try and see if maybe..."

He trails off, unable to finish the sentence. The silent 'maybe you would feel the same' hangs between you two.

You reach for his hand across the table and look into his eyes. “I appreciate you telling me… and apology accepted. Sometimes people can get carried away when they’re drunk… call it, the heat of the moment,” you give him a soft smile. The words you speak pull at your heart a bit, as they are not only directed to him… but to yourself and your own actions.

"Yeah..." he responds quietly. "Heat of the moment." He laces his fingers through yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.

The waiter interrupts as he approaches you both, asking if you are ready to order. Both Suguru and you attempt to shake off the lingering awkward atmosphere.

After the waiter leaves, Suguru looks back up at you suddenly with concern, his gaze searching your features. "But...does this change things? Does it change our friendship?"

“That’s the question I should be asking you. I’m okay with putting this behind us but you need to consider if you’re comfortable being around me Suguru… I’d really hate to cause you more heartache.”

He regards you for a moment, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Hey," he says gently, "You know me. I'm not one to let heartbreak keep me down."

There's a pause as he gathers his thoughts, his expression growing more serious. "As for being around you...I’d rather that not change. You're one of my best friends. I think we've been through too much together to let something like this come between us."

“You’re right,” you smile. “Our friendship can get us through this. Nothing will get between it.”

The waiter brings your food and you both dive into your plates eagerly. The atmosphere between you two slowly starts to feel more comfortable as you enjoy your meals, the food helping to lift your spirits. Suguru can see the color slowly returning to your face as you eat, the tension in your shoulders slowly relaxing. He glances at you every so often, studying your expression, and he can't help but notice the slight dark circles under your eyes, a clear sign of the stress and lack of sleep you've been experiencing lately.

“You’ve been looking pretty tired as of late,” he notes. “How was work today?”

You exhale, where to begin? While you’d like to confide in Suguru about Satoru, you want to be considerate of his feelings. You know you’ll have to tell him eventually, but that conversation would likely sting too much right now, so maybe it’s best to leave Satoru out for the time being.

“This pain in the ass hangover didn’t do me any favors,” you chuckle. “I’m a real idiot for taking you up on that drinking challenge.”

Suguru’s lips curl into a grin and he snickers, “Hey, I tried to warn you. When will you learn your lesson?”

“I know, I know. I’m just lucky that Nanami was assigned as my mission partner today, or I likely wouldn’t be sitting here with you. You should’ve seen the nasty curse that almost got me.”

The sound of his cutlery suddenly becomes quiet, you feel the atmosphere change instantly. You look up to see his face, hauntingly zoned out, a burning rage simmering under him. His usual calm expression hardens, his knuckles turning white as he grips his fork tightly.

"What... what do you mean a curse almost got you?" he finally asks, his voice strained as his words carry an eerie bite.

“It’s nothing really,” you say nonchalantly, a failed attempt to play it off.

"Right," he says sarcastically, a bitter edge to his voice. "It's nothing to worry about. Just another near-death experience. Just another day of risking our lives for people who don't even appreciate it. Just another day of putting ourselves on the line for those who would never do the same for us."

You halt the movement of your fork, frozen momentarily as you’re caught off guard from his sudden shift in attitude. “Suguru, it’s okay. Nanami saved me—”

“And what if Nanami wasn’t there,” he cuts you off, slamming his hands on the table, his volume rising. “It’s not fair that we have to risk ourselves for these damn non-sorcerers … these monkeys.”

There is a loud silence between you as his furrowed stare pierces into you. You’re left speechless, unsure what to say to him. He grips your hand and the violet hue in his iris’ appear to be void of everything. You don’t even recognize him.

"They don't understand the sacrifices we make y/n," his words cold. "Yet we're the ones who bear the burden. We're the ones who have to risk our lives everyday just to keep them safe, and for what?”

You begin to feel a bit nervous as people’s wandering eyes peer to the scene unfolding amongst you both – murmurs echo throughout the restaurant. Suddenly, your waiter walks over, gripping his notepad under a tense grip in support. “Is everything oka—”

Before the waiter finishes his sentence, you watch blood splatter across Suguru’s cheek. You blink – did your eyes deceive you? Suguru just killed an innocent civilian. The waiter, who moments ago was speaking to you both, now lays motionless on the ground, blood pooling around his lifeless body. There is no denying it… right?

The once peaceful restaurant erupts into chaos, horrified gasps and screams filling the air as all eyes turn to look at Suguru, who remains perfectly calm. Civilians around you are running in panic as they try to get away from the scene of the crime.

Suguru simply sits there, his expression blank. There is no remorse in his eyes – only a cold emptiness. He raises a hand, wiping the blood from his cheek with his thumb, before finally speaking. "That was annoying... I despise monkeys."

Suguru's swift and violent act shocks you to the core, causing your heart to race with fear and disbelief. “Suguru…” you manage to finally mutter, your voice catching in your throat from fright.

He looks at you, his expression still hauntingly neutral, as if all he simply did was swat a fly away. "Yeah? What is it?"

“What… what did you just do?” you ask slowly, your voice quivering in fear.

Suguru regards you for a moment, his gaze calculating as he takes in your trembling voice and fearful expression. "I merely got rid of an annoyance," he replies coolly, his voice emotionless. "A mosquito that wouldn't leave me alone. Nothing more."

Reaching for his napkin, he dabs it against his cheek with a look of disgust as he cleans off the lingering remnants of blood left from the waiter. Was this the same person you were casually talking to moments ago? The same person who held you in his arms while you cried? No. Who is this person? Every fiber of your being is telling you to run, but you cannot move, frozen in fear.

“You know y/n. My last mission got me thinking.” He casually leans back in his seat, crossing his arms as he looks at you. “Wouldn’t it be better to live in a world of just sorcerers? If these monkeys didn’t exist, curses wouldn’t be born. We could finally be free.”

You watch him intently as he begins to lift himself from his seat. A fierce cursed spirit begins to manifest behind him whilst emitting blue flames. The blaze dances around him, a sinister aura. “I bet we could make this dream a reality. You... me and Satoru.”

The air around you feels tense and thick with the shock of Suguru's statement. His words hang there ominously, the coldness in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"That's a dangerous thing to say, Suguru," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "A very dangerous thing..."

"Imagine it," he continues, approaching closer to you. "A world where we are the only ones to walk amongst the living. No more weak, worthless monkeys to hold us back. Just the strong. Just us."

"And Satoru?... You think he would agree with you?" you rasp as Suguru stops in front of you, his gaze never leaving your face as he answers your question.

"Satoru..." he muses, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "He'll understand. It may take a bit of convincing, but he'll listen. He always does. He’s the most important piece – we need the strongest."

He reaches out, his hand gently caressing your cheek, his touch almost tender compared to his cold words. “He’ll come. Especially if you join. After all, he’s always been unable to say no to you.”

Your eyes expand as the realization hits you. Was Suguru using you as a tool? Your stomach spins. You’re not sure what to believe anymore – was his confession even real? What happened to this man standing in front of you, the man you once considered to be one of your dearest friends.

“Suguru…” you say, tears welling in your eyes. “You can’t do this.”

“Now y/n, don’t say that,” he muses, his voice eerily tantalizing. “After all, you’re my best friend. What was it you said earlier? Our friendship can get through this. Nothing will get between it.”

There's a hint of mockery in Suguru's tone as he repeats your words back to you. It's almost as if he's taunting you. He leans in closer, his hand moving from your cheek to your chin, tilting your face up to look at him more fully. His expression is cold and calculating, like a predator sizing up his prey.

"See? You said it yourself. Our friendship is unbreakable. That means you'll stand by me, no matter what. That means you'll listen, when I tell you something, right?"

You swallow hard and speak slowly, aware that the next words you utter will ultimately decide your fate. “I can’t, Suguru.”

“Can't?" Suguru repeats, his voice dropping to a cold whisper. He leans in closer, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you. "You can't? Or you won't?"

Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his breath dance on your face. You open them and stare deeply into the eyes you once thought were warm and filled with love. “I won’t kill innocent people Suguru.”

Suguru's face suddenly twists into a scowl, his voice is dangerously soft. “After everything we’ve been through, after I’ve trusted you with my deepest secrets, my most intimate thoughts...and you still say no?” His hand drops from your face as he takes a step back. The coldness in his gaze becomes more intense as his eyes narrow. “It’s a shame really. I always cared for you. How…disappointing.”

Chaos erupts as the cursed spirit behind Suguru lets out a screeching roar. The blue flame expands, engulfing the village, casting a hell-bent inferno over everything. The air is thick with smoke and the acrid stench of burning wood. Screams and cries echo in the air as people run in panic – they search for any salvation as they desperately attempt to flee the hungry flames devouring them.

You are locked in a vicious battle with Suguru, your bodies moving like blurs amidst the carnage and destruction around you. The once peaceful village becomes decimated before you. Buildings are reduced to nothing more than smoldering ruins, the putrid stench of death.

Suguru shows no mercy, his strength and power overwhelming. But despite his ruthless force, he intentionally chooses to leave you alive, though badly beaten and injured. As the smoke and flames of the battle clear, you find yourself lying on the ground, barely conscious. You open your eyes to see Suguru standing over you, his expression cold and void.

"I truly wish it hadn't come to this," he mutters to himself. “If you change your mind… come find me.”

Your vision begins to falter, and you can barely make out the figure walking away from you, but you know without a doubt it’s Suguru. He leaves you there, alone and helpless.

Fumbling for your phone with what little strength you have left, you try multiple times to unlock it, hitting the incorrect digits over and over again while desperately trying to remain conscious. You finally get past your home screen, and you click through your contacts. There is only one person who comes to your mind – one person for you to reach out to. As you tap Satoru’s name, you use every last bit of energy you have to send him your current location – nothing else.

The world around you goes dark, and you slip into unconsciousness.

✧ thanks for reading! part two will have fluff :') read part two here.

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Text

𖤓 DRAGONSPEAR | J.V (PART I)

Pairing: Prince Jacaerys Velaryon x Martell Princess! Reader

Synopsys: Upon discovering Aemond Targaryen's alliance with the Triarchy, the Blacks are pushed to the point of desperation. With the war looming over the horizon, they have no choice but to turn to an unlikely ally: House Martell.

Content Warning: Swearing and a lot of 'fucking politicking,' as King Viserys said.

WC: 3.9k

Series Masterlist

(A/N at the end of the chapter)

The cold castle of Dragonstone stirred back to life in the early evening as the Black Council was hastily reunited after receiving news from an unknown sender, most likely one of Lady Mysaria's informants. The hall was silent as the members of the council cocked their brows in confusion.

"An alliance with the Triarchy?" Rhaenyra Targaryen shook her head in disbelief.

Daemon took the message from her, not believing what she had just said. He tossed the piece of parchment on the table, letting everyone have a look.

"An alliance with the Free Cities is a risk, but a necessary one nonetheless. Their hold on power currently hinges heavily on Vhagar. Aemond knows that the city will be defenceless once Vhagar leaves King's Landing and we could easily overtake it. That is when the Triarchy will come in, to break the blockade of the Gullet," Daemon said, adding a ship figurine to the Table Map.

"We should have enough ships—" Lord Corlys said.

"Forgive me, Lord Corlys, but I do not think they will be enough. The Triarchy can muster a much larger naval power than any house in Westeros, including House Velaryon."

"Are you underestimating my fleet, my King Consort?" Lord Corlys said through his teeth.

"I am just being realistic. It is not just the Triarchy we might end up encountering," Daemon countered, adding two more ship figurines to the Table Map. "The Greens know that we will solely be relying on the Velaryon fleet, and with enough luck, we would be able to defend ourselves against the Triarchy. Which is why they would also want to send Hightower and Lannister fleets."

"We would be outnumbered," Rhaenyra muttered.

Daemon shook his head as his eyes scanned the map, realising that the Greens had managed to amass a larger number of allies, from the Crownlands, all the way to the Westerlands. He raised a brow in a particular spot in the South, a place the Targaryens haven't been able to tame after centuries of their rule.

"Not if we make an alliance with the Dornishmen," he finally said.

After a brief moment of silence, everyone in the Black Council but Daemon erupted in laughter.

"I don't know which is worse, the Greens making an alliance with the Triarchy or us with those goatfuckers," Ulf laughed.

"Do we really have no choice?" Rhaenyra muttered, staring at the map. "The Hightower and Lannister navies would need to sail around Dorne before reaching the blockade, after all."

"My Queen, you cannot possibly be considering this," Jacaerys stepped forward. "We cannot make a deal with those barbarians. Our houses have been at each other's throats for generations... What makes you think that they would want to help us? There is a reason why the Greens would rather turn to the Triarchy instead of House Martell."

"The Prince is right, my Queen," Lord Corlys said. "We do not know how those Dornishmen operate, where their loyalties lie. What if they withdraw their support after making a deal, or demand more than we agreed upon? I should not be reminding you of this, my Queen, but the Dornishmen... Well, they are known for being unpredictable. They might even end up switching sides and joining the Greens."

"That will not be happening, Lord Corlys. After all, the Greens are still Targaryens. At present, the Dornishmen have a neutral stance. They do not wish to partake in this war—"

"Because they're just watching everything from afar and placing bets on who's gonna win," Ulf sniggered, earning a glare from Rhaenyra.

"As I was saying, they do not wish to partake in this war," Rhaenyra paused, watching as Daemon picked up another ship figurine and placed it strategically in front of the Hightower and Lannister ships. "But if we manage to convince them to join us, then we could eliminate the Triarchy and block the Summer Sea, preventing the Lannister and Hightower fleets from crossing it."

"Convince them to join us? How are we going to do that?" Lord Corlys shook his head, growing irritated as Rhaenyra seemed to have decided to carry on with the plan. "This is another reason why Aemond has not even bothered negotiating with those barbarians in the first place. Those Dornishmen—House Martell... they would not easily accept any deal. They are too proud. And in this case, we need them more than they need us. We cannot show our desperation or else they will bleed us out—"

"But we are growing desperate, Lord Corlys, and we are running out of options," Rhaenyra raised her voice, causing everyone in the Council to flinch. "The Velaryon fleet alone does not stand a chance against all of them."

"This is absolutely—" Lord Corlys burst out, clenching his fists as he tried to hold his ire.

"Making a deal with them would be the hardest part, but I am certain they would be satisfied if we offered them a dragon," Daemon suggested. "Ulf, how do you feel about flying to Sunspear with Silverwing and spending the rest of your days with those... goatfuckers?"

"I don't really have a choice do I?" He grimaced. "But it wouldn't be all too bad, I s'ppose. I've yet to taste a beautiful Dornishwoman and—"

"Looks like it is sorted," Daemon waved his hand, cutting him off.

"Send a raven to Sunspear," Rhaenyra ordered Maester Gerardys.

"My Queen, please listen to me," Jacaerys raised his voice, catching everybody's attention. "This risk that we are taking is completely unnecessary. We do not even know whether the Greens would be sending the Hightower and Lannister fleets. If they do not, then we would have wasted our time in trying to reason with those savages. Besides, how would that make us look? To think that you are even considering trading Silverwing for a handful of ships..."

The Black Council grew quiet, letting Jacearys' words hang in the air, and they hummed in agreement.

"Listen, boy," Daemon cut him off. "Aemond just burned Sharp Point out of anger. Do you think he is the type to hold back? He is going to want to strike with everything he has, and House Lannister and Hightower would not want to miss a single chance to appease him."

"But House Martell—?" Jacaerys snapped.

"It will not just be House Martell, Jacaerys. If we somehow manage to convince them, then other Dornish houses will follow. Think about House Allyrion, Blackmont, Dayne..." Rhaenyra tried to reason with her son. "Maester Gerardys, send a raven to Sunspear. Now. We have no time to spare."

The room was filled with exasperation. Some were nodding their heads, murmuring and pointing at the map, whilst others shook their heads yet kept their mouths shut nonetheless. The maester himself began to hesitate as he began to write the message:

To the Honourable Prince Qoren Martell of Sunspear,

In these dire times, as the fleets of the Triarchy, Hightower, and Lannister press upon us, Her Grace, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, seeks the aid of House Martell to join forces with our Velaryon allies at sea. In return for your assistance, we offer the protection of our dragon, Silverwing, as a symbol of our alliance and mutual respect. We acknowledge the history between our houses, but now, unity is essential more than ever. We hope to set aside past tensions and forge a partnership that will benefit both our realms.

From Maester Gerardys, in service to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.

To Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,

House Martell has long stood apart from the conflicts of the rest of the realm, and we see no benefit in entangling our house in this war. Our independence is our strength, and we will not risk it, even for the promise of a dragon. Dorne will continue to walk its own path.

Prince Qoren Martell of Sunspear.

Three weeks have already passed, only to receive a cold rejection from the Martells. Their enemies were already making their move, as according to one of Lady Mysaria's informants within the Red Keep, the Green Council had agreed to send Tyland Lannister as an envoy and were soon going to start preparing the ship for the lengthy journey to the Free Cities.

After reading the message, Rhaenyra scoffed and threw the note in the fireplace, watching as the paper shrivelled into ashes. The Council needn't ask what the Martells had replied since the indignation from the rejection was written all over her face.

"I told you they were too proud, my Queen. Making a deal with those savages... it was never going to work," Lord Corlys said.

"Do not give up so easily Lord Corlys. That just meant our deal was not good enough," Daemon said.

"You cannot be serious. They have already refused to help, even with the promise of a dragon," Jacaerys snapped. Baela placed her hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down.

"What else could they possibly want?" Rhaenyra inhaled deeply as she closed her eyes.

Daemon paced back and forth as his eyes wandered on everyone present in the hall.

"Maester Gerardys, remind us again of the children Prince Qoren has sired," Daemon asked.

"Don't name the bastards, though. We'd be stuck 'ere forever," Ulf joked, only to be met by an awkward silence and glares from those in the council.

"His eldest is a daughter of two-and-twenty, Princess Y/n Martell; Prince Elyas Martell, of nine-and-ten; and Prince Farien Martell, of seven, my King Consort," Maester Gerardys said.

"And is Princess Y/n betrothed?" Daemon asked.

"Not that I am aware of, my King Consort."

"It seems that securing an heir is not her main priority," Rhaenyra muttered. "I wonder why she remains unwed..."

"Well, with the number of bastards Prince Qoren has sired, they would never run out of heirs," Lord Corlys muttered under his breath.

"I do not know, my Queen. I am not entirely familiar with Dornish customs, but I have heard that Prince Qoren has yet to find a suitable match for his daughter," Maester Gerardys said.

"If I may speak, my Queen," Addam bowed his head, waiting for Rhaenyra's nod of approval. "Some of the men who've sailed in Dornish waters have shared stories about why Princess Y/n Martell remains unwed. It's not that Prince Qoren hasn't found a suitable match for his daughter; rather, many of those suitors have met... untimely ends. Their bodies have been discovered in the desert, feasted upon by scorpions. Of course, I can't say how much of this is true and how much is mere sailor's tale."

"Fuckin' hell..." Ulf exclaimed in amusement at Addam's story. "Hopefully that princess was worth dying for."

The Council grimaced, their prejudice somehow convincing them that everything they'd just heard was true. Jacaerys was starting to grow uneasy, feeling Daemon's gaze piercing his as Addam of Hull told the story. He didn't like where the conversation was going, and even if he knew what Daemon was going to say, he still wasn't prepared to hear those words.

"We present Jacaerys as a suitor for Prince Qoren's daughter," Daemon declared, silencing the council.

"No. No. Absolutely not," Jacaerys clenched his fists, his voice trembling with anger as he shook his head furiously. "I am to wed Princess Baela," his gaze darted to Rhaenyra, desperation in his eyes. "The Queen would never agree to such a preposterous match," he said, searching his mother's face for reassurance. But Rhaenyra's gaze was cast downward, and fear gripped his heart. "Mother... you would not marry me off to a savage, would you?"

Rhaenyra felt her son's pressing gaze upon her, yet she refused to look him in the eye. She turned away from the table and stared at the fireplace illuminating the room, trying to find answers in the dancing embers. At first, she found Daemon's proposal outrageous, but his unconventional thinking often led to surprisingly effective strategies. The fire seemed to whisper to her, telling her it was the right thing to do. The Martells. Dorne. She slowly began to realise that if they managed to secure the support of House Martell, and most importantly, the hand of Princess Y/n, then the whole realm would be united.

However, as everyone in the Black Council had already warned her, it wouldn't be an easy feat. House Martell despised the Targaryens after the mass destruction Aegon the Conqueror had caused during the First Dornish War in his attempt to bring Dorne under Targaryen rule. Cities were burned to the ground, leaving much of Dorne a barren waste of sand and ashes. But even then, the Dornish resisted. Led by House Martell, Dorne fought fiercely for their independence at the cost of hundreds of thousands of lives. Yet it was all worth it in the end, as they remained free from the binds of Westeros.

Then she thought of her father, Viserys, and his dream of The Song of Ice and Fire, and how he urged her to unite the realm for what was to come. The alliance with Dorne was necessary, and though they were in dire times of war, there was no better time to unite the two realms.

With a heavy heart, she turned to face her son, Prince Jacaerys, whose eyes were full of desperation. As a mother, she had hoped she could've spared the heavy burden of her duties from her beloved son, but it couldn't be helped. He was going to be the Crown, and sooner or later, he was bound to carry the burden one way or another.

Rhaenyra exhaled and slowly nodded her head, mustering the courage to speak her final decision. If there was one thing she could handle, it was the hatred from her enemies and the smallfolk, but being despised by her own son was something she wasn't sure she could bear.

"Maester Gerardys," Rhaenyra spoke, trying to ignore how her son's eyes widened in disbelief at her words. "Send another raven to Sunspear for a marriage proposal between Prince Jacaerys and Princess Y/n."

Jacaerys stormed out of the room, and Baela looked at Rhaenyra for permission to go after him.

As Rhaenyra looked at the Table Map, she felt a hand momentarily ghost at the small of her back.

"You made the right call, my Queen," Daemon whispered, his lips lightly brushing against her ear, causing a chill to run down her spine.

To the Honourable Prince Qoren Martell of Sunspear,

I write to you once more on behalf of Her Grace, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, about the proposal concerning an alliance between our houses. While we understand and respect your initial decision, the urgency of our situation compels us to make another appeal. In light of the escalating threat posed by the combined forces of the Greens, we recognise that the need for strong allies has never been more critical. As such, we wish to renew our proposal.

Her Grace is prepared to betroth her son, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, who eagerly seeks the hand of your daughter, Princess Y/n Martell. We believe that this union will not only strengthen our positions but also signify an enduring alliance between House Targaryen and House Martell.

From Maester Gerardys, in service to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Rhaenyra's footsteps echoed in the stone hallways of the castle as she made her way to her son's chambers. The night was quiet, nothing but the flickering sounds of the torches and the distant waves crashing against the shore could be heard. A few days had passed since she ordered Maester Gerardys to send the raven to Sunspear, and she decided that it was best to give Jacaerys some space so he could come to terms with his future betrothal to Princess Y/n.

Jacaerys refused to speak to anyone, not even Baela, and Rhaenyra's concern for her son was beginning to keep her awake at night to the point she began to question her decisions. However, the raven had already been set, and there was no turning back.

Rhaenyra knocked on the door, only to get no answer. After the second and third try, she sighed, debating whether she should just give up and leave her son. But she knew how Jacaerys felt, and she couldn't bear to see him so distant, losing himself at the thought of marrying a foreign princess they all knew little to none of. Rhaenyra thought Jacaerys was justified to feel the way he did.

She was pleased the marriage proposal between Jacaerys and Baela was approved by her father Viserys. She thought she could give her son the gift of betrothing someone close to him, someone familiar, someone he could eventually grow to love, just as she had been lucky to have been married to Laenor first, and though they weren't each other's preferences, they managed to come to an agreement.

"Jace, let me in," she said one last time. "We need to talk."

Jacaerys still refused to reply, and she expected as much. Rhaenyra slowly opened the door, only to find her son looking through the windows, watching how the waves violently crashed against the cliffs. She couldn't believe how much her son had grown over those past few years, the babe she used to carry in her arms had turned into a man of eight-and-ten, with sharp, handsome features and dark brown curls framing his face. Her heart was full of pride knowing that the Crown would be in good hands with her son, as not only he excelled in politics and affairs of the realm, but he possessed the kindness and compassion her father Viserys did.

"Jace..." She slowly approached her son, placing a hand on his broad shoulder.

He flinched at her touch and stepped away, refusing to look at her.

"I wish to be alone, Mother."

Rhaenyra closed her eyes and sighed, leaning forward as she also gazed at how the ocean infinitely stretched before her eyes, not knowing how to address the situation.

"I cannot even imagine how you must feel, Jace. If your grandsire had put me in the same position as you, my feelings would not be any different from yours... Though I still recall how your grandsire had me sit down and meet a never-ending line of suitors," she smiled sadly, feeling the soft breeze of the sea blow gently on her face.

Although Jacaerys remained silent, she still listened to his mother. They rarely had the opportunity to talk so casually about matters he deemed trivial, but he always appreciated those few times they got to talk about anything but war and politics.

"My grandsire already approved of my betrothal with Baela," he mumbled. "I wonder what he would think if he found out you wanted to wed me to a savage."

The sound of the sea seemed to have carried the whispers of her father's wish, as she heard distant voices murmuring The Song of Ice and Fire.

"Your grandsire would be proud," she smiled.

Jacaerys turned to look at her with furrowed brows, wondering if what she had just said was nothing more than a jest. But when his gaze met hers, he could see the love her mother carried for his grandsire Viserys reflected in her eyes.

"Before your grandsire made me heir, he said that I must unite the realm, and this alliance with House Martell is the key to that. This is not just about the ships and this war, Jace. It is beyond that. There are things you will come to understand in time. If this betrothal between you Princess Y/n comes forth, the two of you would finally be uniting the Seven Kingdoms," Rhaenyra said, with a faint glimmer of hope in her eyes, something Jacaerys hadn't seen in a long time.

"I know my duty as the Crown Prince, Mother," Jacaerys said, his voice heavy with resignation. "I understand that there is no undoing the proposal," he sighed. "But it pains me deeply, how you all discussed it as if I were nothing more than a pawn in a game, moved around as you see fit. Baela and I have known each other since childhood; it feels only natural that we should marry. We were just talking about the ceremony we would have once the war is over, imagining weeks of feasting and celebration... only to have it all snatched away from us."

"I am not saying you should, but if worst comes to worst, you could always make an... arrangement with Princess Y/n," Rhaenyra said.

"An arrangement?" Jacaerys scoffed, shaking his head. "What for? So I can sire more bastards like me?"

Rhaenyra's features hardened as she glared at her son, a flare of anger igniting within her as he brought up those bitter rumours she had buried deeply in her memories.

"Do not speak of yourself that way," Rhaenyra snapped, her voice shaking as she spoke. "You are a true Targaryen, born of fire and blood, and of salt and sea. Let no one, not even yourself, suggest otherwise."

Jacaerys shook his head, growing tired of hearing the same words of denial coming from his mother.

"I will do what I must for the realm and I will do my best to win the hand of Princess Y/n," Jacaerys muttered in defeat with his gaze cast downwards. "But I will not repeat your mistakes, Mother. I swear I will not sire any bastards, for I will not condemn my future children to face the same humiliation and torment that has haunted me all these years."

To Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,

How amusing it is, to send a mere bird in place of a prince, when seeking the hand of my beloved daughter. Mayhaps you are unaware of our customs, or mayhaps you believe a Targaryen name is worth more than the effort or courtesy. Here in Dorne, we value actions over titles. The hand of my daughter is not something to be bargained for in letters.

Prince Qoren Martell of Sunspear.

"My Queen, Ser Tyland Lannister has been reported to depart to the Free Cities on the morrow," Lady Mysaria spoke before the council.

Rhaenyra clenched her jaw in irritation, not taking House Martell's second rejection well. Daemon read the message over her shoulder, amused at the words of Prince Qoren. Jacaerys hoped that his mother would give up the negotiations, but after the discussion they had weeks ago, he knew that she was going to do everything in her power to secure the deal with House Martell.

"Calling us cravens for sending a raven..." Daemon sneered. "What, were they expecting us to march to Sunspear in person, just to deliver the message?"

"We are running out of time, my Queen. It's only a matter of weeks before Ser Tyland reaches the Free Cities if the winds are in their favour," Lady Mysaria said.

"That is not all, my Queen," Maester Gerardys intervened, concerned. "Just as the King Consort predicted, we have just received various ravens from our allies reporting that they have sighted an alarming number of fleets departing from Lannisport and Oldtown a fortnight ago."

The Queen breathed in, feeling the pressure to make a decision as the enemy took another step. Reading Qoren Martell's letter one final time, she crumpled the parchment in her fist and turned to her council.

"Value actions over titles..." Rhaenyra muttered at the boldness of his words. "If what he desires are actions, that is what he shall get. Daemon, Jacaerys and I shall depart for Sunspear on the morrow on dragonback."

A/N: Hello, my lovelies! I hope you enjoyed the first part of this series. This chapter was basically the Targaryens and the Martells sending emails at each other lol. I don't wanna spoil anything but this story will kinda go from 0-100 hehe. Chapter 2 is like 90% finished, but still needs a lot of editing. Anyway, would you guys prefer if I have a regular updating schedule (once a week), or if I just upload whenever a chapter is finished (obviously there will be times when I won't be able to update as much but I sometimes get random bursts of energy)? I would love to know what you think.

If you wish to be added to the taglist, please fill out this form for easier management.

Until next time ;)

#dragonspear #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon smut #jace x you #jace x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd #hotd x reader #house martell #oc x reader #oc x you #jacaerys velaryon x reader smut #jacaerys velaryon x you smut

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embrosegraves · 8 months

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𝕂𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℂ𝕦𝕕𝕕𝕝𝕖𝕤

(request) Lando Norris x Reader (implied she/her) Reader takes a video of Lando laying on them and captures a sweet moment. Non-sexual neck kisses!

It was rare that Lando would get enough downtime where he could do literally nothing and not feel guilty about it. It was even rarer that your schedule would match up with Lando’s sparse moments of pure relaxation. However when they did align with each other, the both of you made the most of it by doing absolutely nothing but cuddling.

Currently, you were laying on the couch in Lando’s living room, the man in question lying snuggled and comfortable on your chest. The only bit of noise was the low hum of the cars as they passed by on the road. One of your hands was playing with strands of Lando’s hair while the other was being used to answer a few texts that you had left unread.

Quickly telling your mother that you had landed and were safely surrounded by your boyfriend, your eyes wandered to Lando’s position. His legs were completely tangled through yours, telling you that there was no way either of you were getting up for a while. His arms encircled your waist, his right arm underneath your body while his left curled upwards to rest on the couch near your chest. And though you couldn't see you could definitely feel his head buried in the juncture where your shoulder meets your neck. Every now and then, you could feel him press a feather-light kiss to your neck, letting you know he had not fallen asleep.

You were glaringly reminded of when Charles’ girlfriend had posted a tiktok of him joining he skincare routine. You had swooned at the domesticity of it and part of you had wished that you could have that with Lando. This could very well be your only opportunity for a very long while. Without wasting another second, you quickly opened your camera app and started recording.

You moved your arm ever so slightly so that the camera would catch Lando as well as yourself, extremely glad that Lando was a little clingy when you had been separated for a while. Knowing that Lando would not be speaking until you spoke first, you gave him a soft kiss on the head.

“I love you so much, Lan.” You whispered. “I hope you know that.”

“O’course I know that, Baby.” He smiled and placed another kiss on your neck, just a bit firmer than previous. “I know a lot of things about you.”

“Oh yeah?” Your eyes sparkled and flickered to your phone, making sure it could still see the both of you. He hummed, the kisses on your neck getting more and more frequent the longer you recorded.

“What’s something you know about me?” You knew you had just stumbled on a gold mine of domestic fluff, there was no way you couldn’t ask.

“Know you wanna get married, and have kids. A boy and a girl.” His words were clear though a little muffled. “And I know I’m gonna give ‘em to you one day.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm, and I know you wanna move to the countryside, with a big house for family and an art studio. And I know that I’m gonna work until I can give it to you and then I’ll retire and look after the kids and you’ll probably keep working, be the breadwinner of our family.”

“Lan?” Not once did the kisses on your neck stop throughout his whole explanation.

“I also know that you’re recording so that you can post it and show everyone how clingy I am but that’s okay because I really love you and at the end of the day you’re here with me and not anyone else.” Now he moved his head so he could look at you with his boyish grin. You couldn’t help but grin back at him. You stopped recording when he had moved his head. The look of pure love in his eyes had whatever remained of your self-control vanishing like dust in the wind. You leaned your head down and kissed him firmly on the lips.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” You whispered after you both parted from the kiss.

“Not more than you.” Lando pecked your lips once more before snuggling back to position. Soft kisses meeting your neck until you both eventually fell asleep.

twitter.com

The way I rewrote this like 100 times before I was happy with it. Like when I say I fully wrote out like six different scenarios for this request only to not like any of them, before finally landing on what is quite possible one my favourite things I've ever written (also ignore the date on that tweet lmao I only thought about adding it at the very last minute)

ANYWAYS! As always, I hope you enjoyed reading! Please feel free to send me any requests (preferably for a driver I haven't written for yet)

likes, replies and reblogs are very appreciated <3

MUAH

#formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #formula one #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris fic #ln4 #ln4 x you #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine

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familyvideostevie · 7 months

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it's your turn for choosing

this was born out of a prompt request from my dear, dear, @softlyspector. this is for you, becca!

getting asked out via a smudgy scribble on a coffee cup | valentine's day prompts

joel miller x reader

summary/warnings: joel stops by your coffee shack every day. it's not your fault you're a little in love with him because of it. | modern au, fluff, flirting, jesse and cat and ellie cameos, game!joel in my head. i have not been a barista so sorry to all baristas if this reads wildly off-base. | 5.6k

a/n: it's giving rom-com! happy valentine's day. a bit different from my usual fare but hopefully it makes your heart warm. love u. thank u always to @macfrog and @bageldaddy for your eyes.

___

7:32 am. It’s helpful in this line of work to know exactly when you’re fucked.

The espresso machine has been on the fritz all week and despite how much you want your current method of fixing it to work – banging a fist on the top until it stops wheezing – all signs point to today being a very bad day indeed.

You’ve only been open for two hours.

Here for three, awake for four. God, you’re tired.

Anyway – you’re fucked. And there’s nothing you can do about it.

You call the time of death on the machine and search for something you can write on.

The Zone – a stupid name, but you can’t be bothered to change the sign that came with the place – is a coffee shop that sits between towns.

Your coffee shop.

It's more shack than shop, not really a zone of anything, just an order window and a five-drink menu. It's the kind of place that appears like a mirage for tourists right before they get on the highway at an ungodly hour and serves as a quick stop for everyone else. You open earlier than any other place around to get the truckers and the farmers and close when you stop being able to keep your eyes open.

The faded brown clapboard building is no bigger than an RV. The paint is chipped and the roof is a too-bright shade of green and you serve your drinks and the occasional sweet treat when you can get a good deal off of the baker two towns over through a window. It’s not a fancy chain, it’s not a drive-thru. You’ve got a bathroom and a few rickety cafe tables and chairs and no fucking common sense since you like it.

You even love it, some days.

And the craziest part is that it works. Even on mornings like this one, when your espresso machine breaks during the lull between rushes and your part-time help calls in sick and you’ve spilled coffee all over your apron twice – it works.

You tear off the lip of a cardboard box and write in big block letters: NO ESPRESSO TODAY. Maybe Tess, the baker, knows someone who can fix it. She knows everyone.

“Fuck you, you piece of junk,” you say. You give the machine another smack for good measure.

Someone clears their throat and you whirl around, makeshift sign in hand.

You’ve been doing this long enough that a handsome customer doesn’t phase you, but the man standing at your order window makes your stomach swoop for just a second.

“Morning,” you say, summoning your smile. “Hold on a sec, let me just –”

You lean out the window and wedge the piece of cardboard against the napkin holder on the ledge.

The man’s gaze drops to read. You take the opportunity to look at him.

He’s tall and broad – if you had to guess, you’d say he works on one of the farms around here. He’s tan, dark hair threaded through with grey. His arms are crossed and you wish he wasn’t wearing a jacket so you could see his forearms. His denim shirt is undone at the top and you fixate on the chorded column of his throat, on the teasing glimpse of chest hair underneath.

The guy looks tired.

Bone-tired, the kind of exhaustion you see when you look in the mirror. It comes from hundreds of early mornings and late nights, from hours on your feet and plenty of worry. He’s got lines at the corners of his eyes and a few around his mouth and you find yourself hoping they’re from laughter.

“No espresso,” he reads, slow and unhurried. His drawl fits in with most of the folks around here, but you’re sure you haven’t seen him before. You’d remember.

“Hope that doesn't scare you off,” you say. “Still got everything else.”

“Everything else being…” He glances at the chalkboard that serves as your menu.

DRIP COFFEE. LATTE. CAPPUCCINO. TEA. HOT CHOCOLATE. All written in your blocky hand in white paint.

“Three options.”

Trial and error have taught you that simple works best. You’ll make anything people ask for, so long as you know how and have the supplies, and if they’re nice about it you won’t charge too much extra.

“Can I get you one of those three options?”

You’re not trying to rush him, but the next wave of people is bound to show up any minute.

“Black coffee will do,” he says. His mouth tugs up at the corner into a smirk that makes your face feel hot. “If you have that.”

“Thank you for taking pity on me,” you say, going for teasing and missing the mark by a mile. You just sound tired and genuine. “You just made my morning.”

He looks amused and you turn from him, unable to hide your grin. You pour a steaming cup and snap the lid on.

“Pretty shit morning if this is makin’ it,” he drawls.

You hand him the cup and your fingers brush.

“You have no idea.”

He eyes the sign again and then your stained apron. “I got some notion.” He tugs his wallet from his back pocket and pulls out a $5 bill. “Keep the change,” he says.

You want to refuse, to thank him, but a few more cars pull up and Mr. Black Coffee just raises his cup to you and heads back to his truck.

Well, shit. You hope he comes back. A tipper like that, and hot? You sure wouldn’t mind if he became a regular customer. __

You call Tess that afternoon and she does know a guy, so the espresso machine gets fixed and things go back to normal. Your part-time help returns in the morning and nothing else breaks.

Today is uncharacteristically warm for the season. The inside of The Zone is almost stifling, always at least 15 degrees warmer than outside, and you keep wiping your sweaty hands on your apron as you make espresso after espresso for the lunch crowd.

Cat, a spunky girl who likes to practice her latte art when it’s slow, takes orders at the register. You keep half of your attention on her and half on the four drinks you’re working on.

“Black coffee, please,” someone says to her. Someone whose voice you recognize.

“Can I get a name for that?” Cat asks. It’s busy enough that calling names is easier than calling orders, no matter how small your menu is.

“Joel,” he says. You let the milk steam on its own and pour the black coffee before Cat can do it.

“I’ve got it,” you tell her. “Can you finish up those drinks?”

She shrugs and you swap places. You know you’re sweaty and coffee-stained but you smile at him and hand over his coffee.

“Hot coffee on a day like this?” you tease. He – Joel – is sweaty, too. The collar of his work shirt is dark with sweat and his hair is a mess. He must be here on his lunch break. He takes the cup from you and slurps a long sip as a reply to your question.

You laugh. Joel looks pleased.

“Operatin’ a full menu, I see,” he says, pulling out another $5. “Glad you got it fixed.”

“It’s still a piece of junk,” you shrug. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

He waves off your offer of change and raises his cup at you, taking a few steps backward towards his truck.

“Thank you,” he says. He eyes the tag on your chest and tacks your name on at the end. It sounds good from his mouth.

“Bye, Joel,” you say. His lips twitch but you barely have time to think about it before you have to take the next few orders.

The line dies down and you step away from the register to help Cat with some cappuccinos – your least favorite drink by far due to all the damn foam they require – and she eyes you.

“Dude,” Cat says. “What the hell was that?”

If it wasn’t already a billion degrees in here you know your face would feel hot.

“What the hell was what?”

She can’t reply for a few seconds while you grind beans for some espresso.

“I didn’t even know you knew how to flirt,” she muses, tapping a frother full of milk a few times. “That was pretty bad flirting if you ask me –”

You turn the grinder on again to drown her out.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you yell. She rolls her eyes at you until you turn off the machine.

You tamp down the grounds and slot them into the machine.

“I mean, not my type at all, for like, so many reasons,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Way too old for me, for one. Man, for another. But I see the appeal, I guess. Seems like he likes you. And was that a five-dollar bill? Black coffee is two bucks, last time I checked –”

“Can we get back to steaming milk, please?” you snap, more embarrassed than mad. “I am not taking flirting advice from a teenager.”

“I’m twenty!” she sputters. “Wait, so you admit that you like him?”

“Milk.”

Cat is right, though, and you know it. You just don’t see any harm in having a crush on some guy who comes to your coffee shop. Running this place means you see hundreds of people every day. You know their names, you ask them about their kids and their pets and their jobs, and you smile at them even on your bad days. It’s just part of the job. The daily interactions keep you afloat, make you feel more solid in your own life. People see you, they recognize you, they know you – even if it’s just because you make them coffee.

Maybe Joel will keep coming back. Maybe he’ll become one of the regulars you know things about.

And if you have a crush on him?

No harm done. He’s nice to look at.

And he tips well.

Joel stops by again.

And again.

He comes in every morning – sometimes at lunch – and orders the same thing. You learn the rumble of his truck by ear alone, the crunch of his boots on the gravel. Sometimes people in line say hi to him and a smile works its way onto your face on instinct when his voice reaches your ear. It’s never slow enough to have a proper conversation but he smiles at you, tells you he likes the flowers, your new apron.

All of it is flirting but maybe not flirting.

Maybe he’s just being polite.

Also, he keeps overpaying.

One day, almost a month since you first saw him, he doesn’t come in the morning. When you don’t see him in line at lunch, either, you’re a little disappointed. The weather is perfect – not too hot, not too cold, the sun shining – and you want to see him in the sunlight.

The day crowd is long gone and you’re only an hour or two from closing when his truck pulls up.

“I was getting worried,” you call as he walks over. Usually, he’s got some kind of dust or paint or something on them – Joel is a contractor, you’ve learned through your brief encounters, not a farmer – but today his clothes are clean and un-ripped.

“I’m honored,” he says.

You have his cup ready by the time he reaches the window.

“I’m just surprised you can get through the day without a cup of coffee.”

He snorts and hands you his cash.

“I can’t,” he says. “Had shitty home brew this morning.”

He takes a sip of your coffee and sighs. Your heart picks up and you don’t hide your grin.

“What’s with the schedule change?” you ask.

He smirks. “Miss me?”

You scoff and cross your arms. Heat rises in your chest and you feel almost giddy.

“Just curious,” you say. “Don’t let it go to your head, but you’re my favorite customer.”

Joel laughs and scratches the back of his neck.

“Reckon that’s the tip.”

“Actually, ordering a cup of black coffee is the way to any barista’s heart.”

Joel’s eyebrows climb up his forehead.

“Ah,” he says. He takes another sip, his eyes dancing with mirth. “‘Course.”

“Nah,” you say with a teasing smile. “I’d never be so shallow.”

There’s no line behind him but you expect him to go back to his truck, anyway. But here he is. Talking to you.

You grab a rag and wipe down the counter to keep your hands busy.

“I’m, uh. Meetin’ one of my kids here,” Joel says. The sudden shyness that accompanies his admission is a surprise.

Your eyes dart to his hand but you see no ring, nor the pale shadow of one.

“Both of ‘em moved to the city recently. Ellie – she’s comin’ up for the night.”

“I’ll bet you miss them,” you offer. You’re not sure why he’d want to bring his daughter to your coffee shack, but you’re not complaining.

Joel smiles at you. It’s a sad smile but still a good one. The affection in his eyes is raw.

“Sure do,” he says. He tucks one hand in his pocket and takes another sip of his coffee. “But it’s good for them. Sarah – she’s a little older – is in school and Ellie is workin’ on her music and whatever else she’s into these days.” The pride in his voice is clear.

“Well, I’m honored you want to bring her here.” You gesture to your slightly sad sitting area and the empty lot behind him.

Joel looks ready to argue with you when a faded, older version of his truck pulls up. Music leaks from the open windows and the driver bops her head to the beat a few times before shutting it off and hoping out, thumbs flying on the screen of her phone.

“That’ll be her,” he says drily. “Hey, kiddo.”

Ellie looks up from her hands, tucks her phone in her back pocket, and grins at Joel.

She doesn’t look a thing like him, but the connection is obvious. She moves like him, her shoulders set like she’s ready for a challenge at any moment. Joel sets his coffee down at the window and meets her halfway for a hug.

You look away and busy yourself with restocking whatever you can get your hands on.

“Dude, you come here every day?” Ellie asks. “Joel, this is so far from –”

Joel talks over her.

“Drive go okay? Sarah said they’re doin’ shit on the 35 –”

Ellie huffs.

“Yeah, yeah, some traffic getting out of the city ‘cause of the fucking lane closure, but otherwise fine.”

“Good.”

You turn to face them, a genuine smile firmly in place.

“Hi,” you say. Joel picks up his coffee again, which Ellie eyes with a scowl. You introduce yourself to her. “You’re Ellie, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Ellie frowns. Behind her, Joel’s mouth twitches but he says nothing. It’s a lie, obviously, but something tells you he doesn’t mind and she believes it.

“Really?” She throws him a glare and then rolls her eyes. “You gotta stop telling strangers about me, man.”

“Someone’s gotta warn ‘em,” he says.

She laughs. “Hey, fuck you!”

“Only good stuff,” you say. You like her. “Joel says you’re working on your music?”

Ellie’s eyes light up. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “I’ve got an audition next week.” She turns to Joel. “I brought my guitar ‘cause I have a fuck ton of songs to play for you.”

He puts a hand on her shoulder and she settles a little.

“I bet they’re real good.”

Ellie flushes and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well. You have to hear them first.”

You feel a little off-balance again, like you’re on the fringes of something you shouldn’t be seeing. The love on Joel’s face is clear as day.

“Do you want some coffee?” you ask her.

Joel winces. Ellie gags.

“No offense,” she starts, eyes darting between you and Joel. “I know Joel is fifty percent coffee on a good day, but it’s not my thing.” She looks at the menu and narrows her eyes. “I had a mocha the other day and didn’t hate it. Do you make those?”

“Look at that,” Joel says. “You’re convertin’.”

“Am not,” Ellie says. “It’s got chocolate in it, dude. No shit, I like it.”

“Yeah, give me a few minutes,” you laugh. “I’ll put lots of chocolate in it.”

They sit at one of your tables and you hear their laughter in the background as you make her drink.

It’s strange to see Joel like this – to build up on the man you’ve imagined him to be in your mind. Father never occurred to you. It makes sense, though, like a missing piece of him slotted into place. But it also makes the crush feel a little more real. Now that he’s more than your favorite regular customer. Now that you know a piece of him, of who he really is.

It makes you want to know more.

You finish her drink and call Ellie’s name. They both stand and Joel digs in his wallet again.

“Don’t you dare pay me, Joel,” you say. You direct your next words at Ellie. “Really. I’m just honored you stopped by.”

She eyes Joel and he eyes her right back with the same look. She must have learned it from him.

“Yeah,” she says. “Me too.” She grins at you with all of her teeth. “Joel loves this place. Talks about it all the time.”

She takes a sip of her mocha and her eyes go wide.

“Wait, this is fucking good. Man, I see why you drive –”

Joel clears his throat.

“We’re off,” he says. “Thank you, as always.” He sounds softer than usual as if being nice to his daughter is the best thing you could do for him.

You suppose it is.

“You’re welcome, as always.”

Ellie knocks her shoulder with Joel’s as they head back to their trucks. She must be whispering something to him because he swats her away with a groan and she cackles.

They both wave at you as they drive away.

Joel keeps coming in the mornings, and your conversations return to their fleeting cadence. Even so, it’s hard to deny that your crush on him has kicked into high gear.

You try not to let your gaze linger on his lips, on his throat. On his hands when he takes the cup from you, how your skin brushes and it makes you warm all over. You think about how he laughed, how relaxed he was around Ellie. You want to know what he’s like outside of your small daily interaction. You want to know what he eats for dinner, how he spends his weekends, what he listens to on the radio.

You want him.

Business is busy, which helps. A kid from a few towns over – Jesse, he’s called – signs on to work part-time, mostly for the second half of the day. He’s been a barista before so the training is minimal, but it still changes the flow of things. He’s a charming guy and the regulars take to him easy enough.

It’s you who is distracted.

One morning, Joel comes in as expected. Jesse is working, too, trying to clock some extra hours this week.

Joel is on the phone in line, his attention somewhere else. He’s frowning, a deep crease between his brows as he waits in line. All it would take to smooth it away is the press of your thumb.

You try not to stare and probably fail, but manage to take and make the orders ahead of him without making any mistakes, though your whole body feels alight.

He hangs up right as he gets to the window and sighs, giving you a tired smile.

“Howdy,” he says. You set his coffee down in front of him and he pulls out a ten-dollar bill instead of a five.

“Joel –” you say, but he interrupts you.

“My brother called and said he needs breakfast,” Joel grumbles. “Y’got any of Tess’s bear claws?”

Right, they work together, you remember. He’s mentioned Tommy in passing.

“I think so, just hold on a sec.”

“Take your time,” Joel says. It sounds like he means it, even though there’s a line behind him and he probably needs to get to work.

You do find a few bear claws in the box Tess gave you early this morning when you stopped by the bakery.

“You’re in luck,” you say, putting it in a paper bag. “Well, Tommy is.”

“Savin’ my ass,” he tells you when you hand it to him. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

The word sends a jolt of lightning through your whole body. He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s said it but your world shifts slightly on its axis. Sweetheart.

He turns on his heel before you can give him change for his cash, his phone ringing.

“Jesus, Tommy, I said I’d –”

You let him fade into the distance and smile at your next customer.

“How can I help you?”

A few orders later you end up next to Jesse making some lattes.

“Was that Joel Miller?” Jesse asks. “Before. The guy with the black coffee and bear claw?”

You startle. “Um. It was. How do you –”

“I didn’t know he was a customer here,” Jesse says. “Does he come in a lot?”

You unpack a few more cinnamon buns that Tess gave you this morning. “Yeah, every day.”

“Damn,” he says. “He must really like your coffee.”

“Are you trying to say it’s bad coffee, Jesse?”

He huffs a laugh. “No, boss, ‘course not.” He grinds beans for a few seconds but continues once he’s done, steady hands tamping down the results. “I just know he lives like, a half-hour away. And that there are plenty of coffee shops there, too.”

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know him, Jesse?”

“His daughter, Ellie, is a friend of mine,” he shrugs. “Went over to their house plenty of times in high school.”

“Well. He’s a contractor, right? I bet he has a job out here.”

Jesse clips the espresso into the machine and starts on some milk.

“I’m not saying he doesn’t,” he muses. “I am saying that it takes at least 30 minutes to get here from where he lives.”

It’s silly. You’re half-flattered, half-confused. Yeah, you like Joel, and yeah, you’re pretty sure you’ve been flirting every day for over a month. But you figure it’s convenient for him. Coffee and an ego boost all in one.

But if he’s going out of his way to come to The Zone? Well, maybe it’s not just for the coffee.

“Your coffee is good,” Jesse stresses, seeing the gears in your mind turning. It looks like he’s trying to hide a grin. You need to stop hiring young people who have keen eyes and big mouths.

“I think the ice needs a refill,” you say, snapping back into focus.

“He might be here for something else, too -”

“Go refill the ice.”

He throws up his hands with a smirk. “I’m going!”

7:24 am. You’re on your own again and you’re fucked.

The espresso machine is working perfectly and the early rush has ended. The weather is beyond shitty. Rain falls in sheets and the sky is so dark it feels like the sun didn’t bother to rise. It pounds on the roof and blows in the window every time you open it. The awning does nothing to shield customers as they shout their orders over the wind at you. Your fingers are going numb and your front is damp enough to set your teeth chattering.

Joel’s truck pulls up and – well. You’re fucked. And he’s why.

You’re fucked because you can’t stop thinking about him. You can’t stop thinking about what Jesse said. What Joel said. Sweetheart.

A harmless crush turned into something more intense, something heavy in your stomach. You want him earnestly, fully, with every piece of you.

And you still barely know him. But you want to.

Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the fact that you’re damp and cold and frustrated with your own heart and brain. But you see his truck and you decide to do something about this stupid crush.

You write your phone number on a cup with steady hands and set it aside for Joel. You scrawl on it as neatly as you can: Want to get a drink somewhere else sometime?

It’s a bit of a coward’s way out. You should just ask him, say how you feel to his face. He’d probably like that better, anyway. But, well, this just feels safer. He could ignore it, he could throw it out, he could see it and decide to never come back.

Sweetheart.

Somehow you don’t think he’ll do any of those.

The rain lashes against the window so hard you don’t open it until you see the lonely figure approach. The morning rush has been a morning trickle, a few brave souls venturing out for something from you.

Joel, it seems, is one.

You open the window and are greeted with a spray of mist.

“Gimme a sec,” you tell him. It’s so windy he leans in close to hear you. He’s wearing a jacket that’s ill-suited for the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead. Your fingers twitch with the need to brush it back.

You quickly fill the cup you’ve set aside and pass it to him with two hands so it doesn’t blow over.

“Brave of you,” you say. He’s in the rain and you’re both getting soaked but you want to talk to him desperately. It’s a buzzing need at the front of your brain. “Thought the weather would get you, too.”

“Told you,” he all but yells over the wind with a flash of white teeth. “Shitty coffee at home.”

“Drive safe, Joel,” you tell him. He nods at you and jogs back to the truck, cup in hand. You won’t be able to see if he reads it from here, but you hope so. All you have to do is wait.

And wait.

The rain stops.

You’re still waiting, phone silent.

Sunshine peeks through the clouds with a slightly surreal post-storm glow. A few more folks have made their way to The Zone but today has been slow. The clock ticks slowly towards 3 pm and your phone does not ring.

“Don’t be stupid,” you mutter. “He’s working.”

You step out of the shack and into the slightly humid air, the gravel under your feet shifting wetly. The tables you’d set out this morning are, mercifully, still there, though they’re spattered with rain. You might as well close up now.

You’re bent over the last of the chairs, wiping them down with an old rag. You’re focused, so much so that you don’t pay much attention to the hum of an engine and the crunch of tires behind you.

A door slams but you don’t turn around.

“Sorry,” you call over your shoulder. “We just closed.”

“Shame,” he says.

You whip around and find Joel, hands in his pockets. He’s in a different shirt than this morning and his jeans don’t look soaked. You’re still damp, water stains on your pants and shirt.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi, Joel.”

He smirks. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of that window,” he says, before jutting his chin towards the tables. “Can I help?”

You’re very aware of your whole body all at once. He’s looking at you, drinking you in like you’re his morning cup of coffee.

“Uh, sure,” you say. You want to ask why he’s here but the words won’t come. “They go in there, in the little closet on the right.” You point to the open door to the shack.

He dips his chin low just once and then crosses the distance between you in three big strides. He grabs the chair closest to you. The t-shirt he’s wearing shows his arms and you feel what he’s just said – it’s weird to be in the same space like this. You’re outside but he feels so big.

Joel’s arms flex and you swallow, following him with another chair. He stacks his in the right place and holds a hand out for yours.

“What did you write on it?” he asks, casually.

The words don’t totally register. “What?”

He doesn’t answer. His arms are crossed, brow furrowed. Your mouth goes dry.

“On my cup. This mornin’.” He keeps his gaze on yours and for some reason, you can’t look away.

“Oh – you, you didn’t see?”

He shakes his head. “Was rainin’, remember? Got smudged before I got in my truck.”

“Right.”

You tear yourself away and leave him standing there. Maybe you should just lie.

But then you think about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when you make him laugh, and how he asks you how you are and how he brought his daughter here and how he tips and how he drives all this way for your – for you.

Joel waits, his footsteps the only indication he’s followed you.

You turn around.

“I wrote my phone number,” you say. “And I asked you on a date.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up and you think he’s…blushing?

He rubs a hand over his beard and you hope he’s hiding a smile. Your heart is in your throat, beating so loud you worry that he can hear it. All of your bravado sinks into the damp ground at your feet. Maybe you’ve read this totally wrong. Maybe he’s just a nice guy, maybe your coffee is just really good and your employees are fucking with you. He’s here to let you down easy, to tell you he’s not even available, not interested, not –

“Alright,” Joel says. He walks towards you and tugs his phone from his back pocket. “I’ll take that number.”

Oh.

He hands it over and you type it in, heart jackhammering in your chest. But you watch his face, see the quirk of his mouth and his blush and it makes you brave.

“And the date?” you ask, giving it back. Your fingers brush and your heart keeps pounding but your nerves take a sharp turn away from doubt and towards excitement.

“Well, you gonna ask again?”

You both seem to have found your footing with whatever this is. The flirt in him is back full force, and he’s looking at you in that way of his. You want to know all of his expressions. There is so much to learn.

“Are you going to say yes?”

“S’why I came back,” he admits. “Figured you’d be closin’. Hoped you’d be free.”

“So you could read the cup?”

Joel takes the other two chairs and heads for the door again. You trail him. God, his arms are distracting.

“Most of it,” he says. “Couldn’t make out the last few numbers, though.”

“Well, once we’re done here, I’m free. If you wanted to go on a date with me.”

Joel turns and you’re in the small space at the same time, your chests almost pressed together. You must smell like sweat and stale coffee but you watch as Joel inhales, eyes on yours.

“I do,” he says.

It would be so easy to kiss him, a quick, chaste press of your lips to see what he tastes like.

His pupils dilate and you sway into him for a breath before you realize what you’re doing and step back outside.

You take a deep breath of fresh air. “Great.”

He rubs the back of his neck with one hand and you head for the tables.

“Y’know,” he says. “Ellie’s been on my ass about this.”

You laugh, high and bright. “Has she?”

“That girl ain’t capable of missin’ an opportunity to stick her nose in,” he grumbles, but it’s affectionate.

“Well, I think she’s smart,” you goad.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Reckon she is.”

Joel’s brows furrow and he takes a few quick steps into your space, so close the tips of your shoes almost touch.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi.”

“Hold still,” he says. He reaches for your face slowly, slow enough that you could pull away but you don’t. He brushes something from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Grounds.” His voice is a little hoarse.

“Thanks,” you breathe.

He smirks but the flush creeping up his neck tells you he’s not wholly unaffected. It makes you feel…it just makes you feel.

Joel Miller likes you.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” you say.

His eyes widen slightly and he leans in just a little but you slide out of his space with a grin.

“The sooner we finish up the sooner I can buy you a drink.”

Joel laughs, loud and full. “Oh, how generous of you.”

“You’re very lucky,” you say.

“I agree,” he drawls. He taps your chin with one knuckle.

His eyes sparkle and he smiles, looking luminous in the post-storm sunshine. You see a flash of a future – watching him drink coffee in a kitchen instead of through the window of The Zone. Your hands meeting over a shared table, fingers tangling, that smile directed at you in the morning light.

Giddiness rises in your throat and spills out of you in a delighted laugh of your own. Joel just grins.

“So,” he says. “Where’re you takin’ me?”

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff

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nochukoo97 · 6 months

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we can’t be friends (wait for your love) - teaser

pairing: childhoodfriend!jk x childhoodfriend!oc

summary: you and jungkook have been friends since birth, and as you both grow into teenagers, you can’t help but have some sorr of longing feeling towards him. but after a turn of events, you move away from your home town, growing apart from the boy you onced were close to. almost a decade later when you decide to move back, there’s someone familiar yet unfamiliar waiting for your arrival… was this the universe giving you a sign about him?

warnings/tags: story starts off when the both of them are children, but most of the plot is when they are adults :)), eventual: kissing, an emotional rollercoaster 🥲, they’re stuck in a ‘what are we’ moment, playing a waiting game of who confesses first, a little bit of angst, smut, but fluff too hehe

a/n: IM BACK 🥲 after being in writers block sighhh but i am back hehehe hope u r excited for this!! anyways this is just an intro for the actual fic, its more of what happened before the present which will be in the main part hehehe

TAGLIST OPEN!!

(this is the introduction, the main part is coming soon :)))

MASTERLIST

23 July 2007

You’re currently wedged between two bookshelves in the living room of your house, eyes trained on the words in your book, giggling to yourself when the plot takes a funny turn. Meanwhile in the background, Jungkook and your brother Taehyung, both a year older than you, the two ten year old boys play fighting in your parents backyard, their game was way too rough for you to even watch, you decided.

That’s always the way it’s been since you were young, Jungkook’s mum dropping him off at your parents place as he spent time with your brother, mostly roughhousing like they are now, and you, at nine years old, simply tucking yourself in another fairytale, which to you seemed like a much better way to past time.

You never truly spent a lot of time with the two of them when Jungkook would come over, besides the once-in-a-while moments where your parents would make you guys bond a little through board games or card games which the two elder boys would never take seriously, the games always ending in them either throwing the board game pieces at each other or stacking the cards into a pyramid.

When it came to school, you tried your best to stay away from bumping into your brother at school, but you’d always end up being teased in front of your friends by him and Jungkook, making fun of your two pigtails or your very glittery pink bag you had just gotten as a birthday gift, but you were used to it anyways, having grown up with a brother.

12 August 2011

Four years go by and now you’re finally completing your last year in middle school, Jungkook and your brother having moved on to high school, and as expected, they end up attending the same school, as they have done their whole life.

But since four years ago, a lot has changed. You’ve grown much closer to Jungkook, having gone on quite a few trips with his family, and you could even consider him a close friend. Most importantly, he’d grown from being a kid to a teenager, even though he was only a year older than you, the 14 year old boy suddenly became someone you always wanted to hang out with. To you, you saw him as someone cool. Instead of teasing you along with your brother, he now would defend you from your brother’s teasing, treat you to ice cream on the weekends and even teach you the video games he played with your brother.

“And then he let me get as many toppings as I wanted,” You tell your friends, clicking the buttons on your phone to show them the picture of your ice cream, filled to the brim with all sorts of toppings because Jungkook said you could.

“You’re so lucky, I wish I had a boyfriend like that,” Jiyeon sighs, pouting her lips as she sulks.

Your face turns red, tip of your ears warm as you quickly deny, “He isn’t my boyfriend! Just a friend… In fact he was my brother’s friend first,” No, you couldn’t even begin to try and imagine Jungkook as someone more than your friend!

“Well, but you should definitely confess to him on valentine’s day, it’s in like six months,” Yuji twirls her hair, nudging your leg slightly as she giggled.

To the three of you, as 13 year old girls, having a valentine was a big deal, especially since the whole idea of a crush and all was new to you guys as teenage girls.

“No! I don’t have feelings for him! He’s just nice to me I guess,” You frown at Yuji, just because she confessed to her crush and now apparently has a boyfriend, doesn’t mean you need to do it too, you decided.

You didn’t have a crush on Jungkook right?

You push away the thought quickly, this whole topic was so taboo to you, it made you feel squirmy thinking about it. No, you didn’t have any sort of feelings towards the older boy, never.

So that day when you arrived back at home, spotting Jungkook and Taehyung sitting at the table and doing their homework, you decide to take a seat away from the certain boy.

“Huh? Why are you sitting all the way there? Come back here,” Jungkook hums, pulling out his earphones in bewilderment, you had always sat next to him whilst the three of you would do homework together after school, nudging him here and there to ask for help with a math problem.

“I- okay,” You scooch towards the chair next to him, dragging your books along the table as you avoid eye contact. Your cheeks heating up again as you remember your conversation with your friends in school earlier, it made you feel all tingly inside, but why were you being so weird in front of him?

“You’ve been staring at that math problem for ages, need help?”

You jump up in surprise at Jungkook’s voice , letting out a small yelp as your brother snickers at you from across the table, you kick his shin in response, sending his hands flailing to the injury, mumbling some cuss word you don’t understand.

“Yeah,” You only muster out a whisper, handing over your pencil to the boy, who finds your behaviour a little off but nonetheless, doesn’t comment on it.

And while he explains the solution and working to find the value of X, you can only notice his eyes, his nose, the mole under his lips, the scar on his cheek from when he fought with your brother years ago, his lips.

And then you for yourself to snap out of your daydream when his eyes lock with yours in confusion as to why you’re staring at him instead of your workbook.

03 January 2012

But then five months later, opportunity for valentine’s day didn’t even come for you anyways, as you pack your bags to move miles away from the place you once called home, since your father had been posted to a new country for his work.

The whole idea of leaving your life behind and all the people you’ve ever known since young was such an overwhelming feeling that you didn’t even think once about your feelings for Jungkook anymore, or maybe you did once, but it didn’t matter.

So when you tugged your luggage and watch your brother sadly hug his best friend goodbye at the airport, reality struck, you wouldn’t ever get a chance to even properly assess your feelings for Jungkook anyways, so you simply wave him goodbye, not looking back so you don’t think further than a goodbye.

He did make sure to exchange his Instagram and Facebook with you, promising you and your brother to keep in touch, which you agreed to. Maybe there was a part of you that wanted to cling onto the idea of him, but you didn’t let yourself believe that anyways.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #bts #jungkook x you #jungkook drabble #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios

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wh1msic4lwasab1 · 6 months

Text

𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

synopsis: you yearn to step onto the sand, relinquish your tail for just a moment and experience the world above. You find a man capable of granting you your wish, but there’s something wrong.

tags: mermaid reader, fingering, penetration, beach sex, vulgar, explicit.

wrd cnt: 1.6k

a/n NOT PROOFREAD: i had to get a little creative bc i was researching mermaid intercourse bruh i was deep in the google trenches…hope this is still good !

The moon shines down beneath the crystal clear waters, casting a mesmerizing glow on the vibrant coral reefs and schools of colorful fish. You were no stranger to this enchanting underwater world. But today, as you swam through the familiar marine life, your thoughts were consumed with a longing for something more. You had heard stories of a new world above the surface, a world where creatures with two legs roamed and breathed air instead of water. It was a world that both intrigued and terrified you.

As you gazed up at the shimmering surface, you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have shed your tail and explore this foreign land. But as a mermaid, it was only a dream, a distant desire that seemed impossible to fulfill. But little did you know, fate had other plans in store for you.

As you continued to swim along the coast to catch a glimpse of the stars, you find a man with long silver hair walking above the earths hide.

You try to conceal yourself in the night, but he takes quite a quick notice of you.

You get startled from his gaze, but his eyes shine a shade of blue so vibrant they hold you inbetween currents like a fish on a hook.

“Hello there, do not worry, I won’t hurt you”. The man says to you from above, his hands infront of him to show you his good intentions.

You swim up the sand, letting the water glide you up onto a rock, letting your tail lay on the sand; draped over.

He kneels down, “Are you okay?”. You’re avast ways from your home, but you couldn’t miss a chance to actually talk to a human.

”Yes, yes I’m alright.” You began to study his features like a predator ready to strike; his winged-lashes flickering.

You’ve never met a human before, you’d heard stories of the good and bad nature of them, but he seemed different. “You’re a mermaid.” His question sounding more like an awestruck statement. You nod slowly, unsure of his reaction.

“Amazing, I’ve been told your kind had ceased ever since tales of the property emerged. I never thought I’d get to see one again.” He says with a sense of wonder and disbelief.

You can feel your face conform at his words, “Again? Whats is your name?” you ask, suddenly breaking out of his trance.

“Neuvillette. I may look it, but I am not human. I’ve lived many years, and befriended many of your kind. I am just glad to be given the reassurance of your resilience”. He says with honesty.

“Thank you- I am y/n”. You finally tell him.

“Beautiful. What brings you to the coast?” He wonders out loud.

“I’m- just curious. I wished to take a look upon the world above me.”

“Curiosity can lead us to great adventures,” Neuvillette said, his eyes full of admiration as he gazed at you. “But it can also bring us trouble. You are brave to venture to the surface alone.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, feeling a sense of pride swell within you. “I couldn’t resist the urge to explore. And now, I have found something much more intriguing than just the surface world,” you said, your eyes flickering to Neuvillette’s lips.

He seemed to sense your desire and stepped closer to you, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek. “And what might that be?” he whispered, his voice low and sensual.

“I wish for legs…” You confess, teasing the handsome stranger just a bit.

“And you think I can grant them to you?”

“You are the hydro dragon, aren’t you? I couldn’t quite out my finger on it. But we have a many great tales about you…and your abilities.”

“You are correct. But I must warn you, it could be an unpleasant first feeling.”

“But you can do it?!” You flap your tail in excitement a few times, the hair that covers your wet and exposed chest flaling around as you wait for his confirmation.

“I can…but I must be here to supervise you. A lot can go wrong, and the people of this land may not all be so accepting”. He warns.

You take time to consider the need for your yearning, but still you hold onto the dream you desire so deeply.

“I’m sure of this.”

He releases a deep sigh, “Alright, please allow me.”

With his large palms, he picks you up off the rock; his hand under your slippery tail and holding you bridal style to sit you onto his lap.

You apologize about ruining his clothes with the salty sea water, but he pays no mind.

“Don’t look down. Simply look up here.” He commands, holding your gaze with his own as he soothes the length of your tail, speaking whispers you can’t transcribe, slowly feeling your body half lighten exponentially.

You suddenly feel a weight lifted off you, and look down with his permission.

Your face lights up, and you feel as if you’re dreaming. As if any moment now you’ll wake up under the sea foam and find yourself with a tail.

But this was real, and you thanked the man with everything in you.

“You’re welcome, but remember that there are still-“

“Arghh- Something’s wrong…”

His eyebrows furrow, not seeing anything physically wrong with you which only makes him more worried.”

“What’s wrong my dear?” He says, trying to be respectful and looking away from your naked body.

“Something’s feeling- so hot.” You squirm, looking to him for help.

“Guide me to where you need.”

Taking his hand in yours, you trail him over your stomach before placing it on your growing heat, making his hand cup your crotch.

“Right here” you plead.

His face was covered in deep red, unable to speak.

“That- is quite unusual…I’ve never seen that happen. Does it hurt?” He says with true concern, trying to conceal his arousal.

You shake your head, unable to describe what it felt.

“What is this? Have you ever felt this?”

Neuvillettes voice hitches as he’s even more embarrassed and trying to find the right words to explain what you feel.

“Well, not this exactly no. But, I think I understand the issue”.

He casts a shadow over you, his large body coming close to whisper something in your ear.

“You’re feeling arousal, and there’s only one way to get rid of it.”

You feel a lump in your throat, eyes locked into his as you feel even more helpless.

“Please…” You plead, grinding your hips towards his hand, “Help me get rid of it…”

He smiles down at you, spreading your wet lips apart, “It would be my pleasure, sweet mermaid.”

With a gentle tug, he pushes your back onto the rock you were sat on earlier.

He parts your legs and keeps the bottoms of your thighs on top of his, giving him a good view of his fingers delving into your tight hole.

“Mmfph- that feels…so good”. You confess.

His hand moves your hair behind your neck, your chest fully on display as his free hand squeezes your mounds and roll your nipples under his fingertips, giving you two sources of pleasure unknown to you before.

“Neuvillette- I need more.” You beg, putting your hand on top of his, making him squeeze your breast harder.

“Anything for you, y/n.” He flashes a small smile before putting your hand on growing bulge.

“This is what is going to help you find your release, sweetheart.”

He helps you unzip his pants, and out springs his cock; falling right into your grasp.

Your eyes widen, it felt so big in your hands you didn’t possibly know what to do with it.

He helped you pleasure him, making your hand stroke him up and down as he thrusted into your palm.

“You’re so gentle…such a sweet thing.”

You feel your cunt drool even more, something so unknown to you made you feel so feral.

He positions himself at your entrance, kneeling perfectly before you with your legs wrapped around him.

“This…goes right in here.” He grunts out, pushing his thick, veiny cock fully into your perfect cunt and hearing your pleasure heighten quickly in the form of moans and gasps.

He started with slow, deep thrusts; getting you used to his size and the feeling of your own hole stretching.

You felt like you could pass out if he didn’t keep going, the ambiance of waves crashing against the rock behind you and the sounds of your wet skin slapping together drove you wild. The sea water brushed against your ass but his tongue slid against yours in such a manner that made your entire body feel like it was under the sun.

“Do you like how this feels?” He asks, grunting in your ear and whimpering at how your cunt squeezes him.

You nod profusely, thanking him about a million times as he keeps fucking you on the sand, holding your waist and trialing sloppy kisses down your neck and chest.

Your breathing was heavy and your mind was swirling with pleasure as he continued to thrust into you. You were completely lost in the moment, just the two of you on the beach, your bodies entwined in ecstasy. He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming faster and more urgent. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, and he wanted to take you there with him

“Y/n- keep squeezing around me like that, fuck…such a perfect hole.”

Your moans turned into screams as you both reached your climax together, waves of pleasure crashing over you like the ocean behind you. You collapsed onto the sand, panting and trying to catch your breath. He rolled onto his back next to you, a content smile on his face as he ran his fingers through your hair. 

“That was amazing,” you said, pulling him close to him. “I’ve never felt anything like that before”.

“Well you have a few more hours of it if you so please.”

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#jo’s posts #neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #neuvillete x reader #neuvillette smut #nuevillette #neuvillette genshin #genshin neuvillette #genshin smut

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coichii · 18 days

Text

22:43 - HYUNJIN

pairing - nerd!bf!hyunjin ♥︎ fem!reader

genre: angst, comfort & college AU

word count: 0.7k

warnings: negative self talk & swearing like once

A/N : this is very self indulgent bc 2 weeks in and math is already eating my ass ! also I’m sorry if this sounds rushed 🙏🏾 like I said math is beating me rn

“Ok, then after that you carry the x and combine the common factors.” He says, but to be honest, it all sounds like gibberish to you.

Math is the hardest subject to master in your eyes. All those formulas and variables go in one ear and out the other.

Hyunjin, being the incredibly smart and sweet boyfriend he is, kindly offered to help you. Of course you gladly accepted his help, but it would be a lie say you weren’t 5 seconds away from crying.

You groan, throwing your head down on your hands. You couldn’t understand a thing. The feeling of inferiority and stupidity were wracking your brain.

“Im so stupid, why can’t I understand this.” and more self deprecating thoughts were going through your mind. You hadn’t even realized that you had started crying, or that hyunjin was trying to get your attention.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?!” You hear his voice cut through your thoughts. He looks at you, obviously panicked from your sudden outburst. “I- I don’t know, i’m just s-so-“ You can't finish before a fresh set of tears and choked sobs are coming from your body.

Immediately he’s moving to hold you in his arms, stroking your lower back as you continue to cry. Quiet praises and hushes come out of his mouth, small kisses being placed to either side of your face.

It takes you a while to get yourself together again, choked sobs turning into small hiccups. You look up at hyunjin, a small, warm smile plastered on his lips.

“Can you tell me what happened, my love?” His voice sounds gentle, slighting healing the current tears in your heart. “I don’t k-know i think I got a little frustrated” You lie. You didn’t want to tell everything about how you were feeling to him.

It’s not that you didn’t trust him, you just didn’t want to be so vulnerable. However, he obviously caught this.

“You’re more than a little frustrated. Tell me what’s wrong so I can help you baby, that’s all I want to do for you.” The way he says it and looks, has all your walls opening immediately.

“I’ve just been so stressed. I can’t keep up hyune i can’t. I can’t stop myself from comparing me to my classmates. They’re so much better than i am. They don’t cry under the littlest bit of pressure, and they certainly aren’t crying over fucking calculous. I just.. don’t know what to do anymore.” You trail off at the end, heat rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment, even more so from his lack of response. You’re about to apologize for ranting before his voice cuts yours off.

“Oh Y/n, i wish you could see your self through my eyes.” He starts, eyes warm. “You really don’t know how absolutely intelligent you are. You got into this amazing school, your writing is so beautiful it brings me to tears, the way you explain your work is so incredible, and so much more. You are the smartest person I know baby, don’t compare yourself to anyone else you hear me. Not understanding something doesn’t and will never ever make you dumb.”

All you can do is hug and kiss him. The thoughts of inferiority don’t disappear, but they are definitely drowned out by the love of your life’s words.

You pull away, flashing him a bright smile, which he gladly reciprocates. “Now, why don’t you say we take a break and watch some spirited away, hmm?”

“But love, we still have all this left to finish.” You frown. You don’t want to pull him away from his own work just for you. “It’s okay, I honestly think I could use the break too.”

You sigh as you agree, his puppy eyes he starting staring at you becoming to much to handle.

As you get up, packing away your belongings, you can’t help but to think just how lucky you got to have a boyfriend as smart, loving, and caring as him.

back to masterlist…

#skz x reader #skz #stray kids #straykids x reader #kpop #skz fluff #straykids x you #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin comfort #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin skz #skz comfort #straykids comfort #needed this cus math is actually my biggest enemy

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iouinotes · 9 months

Text

Show-off | Mike Ross

pairing: Mike Ross x female!reader

show: Suits

genre: smut word count: 2,9k

summary: you and your co-worker Mike dont get along very well. But when you have something that he needs, suddenly everything is different.

a/n: Just watched the first two episodes of "Suits" and something about Mike is really attractive-

Working in a well-known office as a lawyer has it's advantages. Such as being respected by business people or being able to afford a lot of things, you spend all your evenings analyzing documents rather than meeting actual people.

Nevertheless, sometimes there are also negative factors. For example, my co-worker Mike, who really believes, that he is with his ridiculously skinny tie and sarcastic humor better than the others. Or right now, better than me.

"God, I cant believe you. Can you behave for once?" I use my fingers to push my hair back in frustration, noticing how my head starts to hurt. Its 10 pm and I'm currently trying to stay calm, though because of one man in particular, my nerves seem to be getting thinner within seconds. Valuable time is wasted that I could spend somewhere else instead of with him.

"Now it's my fault, that you don't have the documents with you? Sorry, I can't help you being organized in your own workplace." His voice irritates me. Everything about him is so frustrating.

"I told you, I didnt get the message! How am I supposed to know, that you need something, when you don't tell me anything about it? Maybe you should stop being so childish and ask me in the first place, instead of running to Rachel!" If our job had nothing to do with justice and we werent literally standing in a law company right now, I would kill him. And then I wouldn't hesitate to go to court and say it was self-defense, because I didnt want to hear any of his miserable excuses anymore.

"So what do you think, I should do? I need these documents for tomorrow. Please, I know you don't like me, but it is really urgent." Why does he has such blue eyes? The look he is going me is even more irritating than his voice.

I sign, exhibit my laptop and try to put the pens back, that are laying all over my desk.

"Okay, fine. As I said, the documents are at home, so-" I don´t even get to finish my sentence.

"Great, so I'll meet you there. And I wont even tell anyone, if your place is a mess." His eyes wander over my messy desk, and even If I don´t like to admit it, it's a bad habit of mine. But, he shouldn't make any assumptions about the neatness in my apartment.

"I hope you loose the documents on your way home." At my words, he grins smugly.

"Well, then I could lie and say you didnt found them anymore and I hadnt had the chance to go through them." He leans towards me.

"I'll run you over with my car." He raises his eyebrows at my threat.

"You sure should do something that makes you smile more often. Is that even something you know how to do?" I show him my middle finger and turn to left my office. When I close the door, I hear the laughter in his voice.

"The next storm should be named after you as quickly as you left the room." He follows after me.

"Can you shut up for once? Oh, I forgot. You don´t last one second being silent. Thats a shame, the world could finally heal." His hand rests on his heart, his features fake a hurt expression.

"Ouch. You really don´t like me that much, huh?" His eyes try to search mine.

"You get on my nerves on purpose every fucking day. Should I thank you for that?" I turn my head to look at him.

"Yes, you should. Your life would be so boring without me." He grins at me again from the side, that typical grimace that is always adorn on his face.

"You wish." When I tell him my address, he raises his eyebrows, but before he can make an unfavorable comment, I get into my car.

Darkness surrounds me and when I see him going away, I lower my head to the steering wheel. He really is the best at confusing my emotions.

~~~~~

I turn off the lights of my car and get out of it, so I can finally make my way to my flat. Its not something special, I mean I have a living room, which is quite big and connected to the kitchen, a bedroom and a bath. But I am very lucky, because I have a small balcony, from which I can watch the stars at night. But I usually only do that when I can't sleep.

So, when I enter my apartment, I let my eyes wander over the manageable mess, I put some clothes back in the closet and the dishes in the washing machine. The place almost looks decent, when I hear the doorbell.

As I open the door, I'm nervous for some reason. I let him in and turn to my office drawers, looking for the document.

"Nice place. You live here alone?" His fingers trace my bookshelf, I see him reading the titles.

"No, my wife is still at work." When I look at him dead serious, I see him laugh in surprise.

"So, you do have humor. I thought, you were one of those exceptions that wouldn't be able to do that." He means it as a joke, but something in my chest hurts.

When I reply with a monotonous voice, I see his eyebrows pull together. "I live here alone. That's what you wanted to hear?" I'm getting more frustrated again with every second he's around me.

"No- I didnt mean it that way. I'm sorry. My intentions were good, I promise." When I look at him for a moment, I see his honest expression.

It would be so easier for me to hate him, if I didnt know, he was a good human. Well, most of the time.

We are silent for a moment, but when I hear his footsteps, I tense up.

"What are you doing?" He's now standing right next to me.

"Helping you. You seem a little, tense?" I glare at him for a moment and he raises his hands in defense.

"Just pointed out the obvious. But dont worry. You still look lovely." I stop in my movements at his words.

"Thats such shock for you?" His voice shows surprise and a certain curiosity.

"Only that you say it." I look into his eyes.

"Well, you may think I'm dumb, but I'm not blind."

He just called me beautiful, sort of. It´s confusing me.

When I finally find the documents, I hold my hand out to him.

"I don´t think you are dumb. I think you're annoying. And a show-off. I don´t like that." His eyes follow me.

"What do you like then?" His question surprises me. He slowly takes the documents out of my hand, his finger gently brushing mine.

"I don´t think that is any of your business." I try to clear my voice. His touch makes me shiver.

"Come on, tell me. Would that be so bad?" His whole presence is making me nervous and I feel my hands start to shake.

At work, I can always hide behind a mask, pretend that nothing he does affects me. I can act like I truly hate him, even though I catch myself looking at him, from time to time. Especially when he shows off his intelligence without realizing it, impresses his clients and -I would never admit it- me too. It's a certain charm about him, the way he always knows how to answer, while being mischievous and clever about it.

But now, that he's in my apartment and so close to me, it's suddenly different. And I don't know how to react to him being nice.

"I look for someone who isnt afraid of commitment. Someone who is honest and kind, but who also challenges me. I want to feel safe, so I can put my trust not only in myself."

He nods and is quiet for a moment, I begin to feel stupid for telling him all of that, when he responds.

"I get that. Someone whose shoulder you can lean on when things get too much. Someone who meets your needs, who wants to be in your life. For longer than a one-night stand." He smiles at me and I see for the first time, why I possibly could like him.

"Also, statistics show higher rates of being robbed or kidnapped, when you have one-night stands." This remark almost makes me laugh, even though it's frightening.

"Well, who would even notice, if I would disappear? Probably only my clients, because they need me." I lower my head, being completely honest with him for the first time.

"I would notice."

When I look at him, he takes a step towards me. His fingers gently slide over my shoulder and brush my hair aside, the touch makes a warm feeling bloom in my chest.

"I couldn't annoy you anymore. My life would be pretty boring without you. And it's not so bad to be able to look at such a pretty face every day, even if it always looks at me annoyed, like all the time." I quietly laugh at that, feeling surprisingly good because of his compliment.

We look at each other, now being really close. My eyes travel to his lips and I don´t even know how it happens, but suddenly he is all over me. His lips on mine, his hands on my waist, lifting me up to sit me on the desk. I moan softly when his hands tangle in my hair and he pushes himself closer to me, so that he's standing between my legs. One of his hands gently wraps around my neck and I feel my loud pulse.

My hands move too, stroking his back and holding him closer to me by his tie. As he pulls his lips away from me, he lifts my chin with his finger. Now, looking down at me with widen pupils. I hold his eye contact, forgetting all about my issues with him, when he speaks to me with a deep voice (which I suddenly don´t think sounds irritating anymore).

"Be angry at me tomorrow and mine for tonight. I bet, all your frustration from work and your thin nerves can catch a break, what do you say?"

Not much. Because I pull him towards me by his tie and kiss him again. I don't want to stop at all anymore. He returns the kiss with the same enthusiasm and his hands find their way to my waist again to lift me up again. When he crosses the living room with quick steps and lays me down on the sofa, I already feel out of breath and clearly turned on.

His kisses become more intense, his lips move from my mouth to my neck, leaving marks there. But it feels too good to make him stop.

"I will gladly hear your excuses, when someone asks you about your hickeys tomorrow. Because you will be all flustered, when you think again about this moment. Where you are ready to be fucked by your colleague, who you despise so much." I whimper as he pushes up my dress and his hands pull my tights down to my knees. The cold air hits my skin, but I don't really notice it, because his lips are on my neck again and his fingers connect first with my stomach and then further down. I hold my breath as his lips touch my ear and his fingers stroke my folds.

"So wet for me. Didnt think, I would turn you on this much." I kiss him to shut him up.

"You are-" I moan, when he finally puts a finger in me. "-so annoying." He laughs at me.

"Am I? But you seem to like it." I feel myself getting wetter, his fingers feel so good as they move gently but firmly inside me. One of his hands moves to push my dress further up and somehow, he manages to pull it over my head. Now, I'm lying in front of him in just a bra, his hands slowly find their way over my body and to my back, which I lift slightly so that he can open the clasp.

When I lie naked in front of him and he massages my breasts, his lips touch mine and his fingers stimulate me, I feel like I'm in heaven.

He breaks apart, so he can look at me and I draw my eyebrows together, when his fingers increase in speed. My mouth opens and the sounds that escape me echo in the apartment.

"I'm- god, I think I am going to come-" at that he starts to tease me, going slower but a lot deeper. My eyes almost roll back as he hits a certain spot inside me.

"That feels good? What do you say, when you want something?" You stupid idiot.

"You stupid-" I begin to say as his lips graze my nipple and his finger scissor and stretch me out further.

"One word, darling. Say it." And because I feel this knot inside me (and maybe this side of him turns me on, like a lot), I finally open my mouth to please him.

"Please, Mike. I-I need to-" My sentence is cut off as his fingers speed up and I moan loudly.

"Thats a good girl, you can be so good to me, if I make you." His lips search mine as I finally come. My breathing is heavy and when I come down from my high and look at his face, I see the satisfied expression.

"You are done-" I can't maintain my strict facial expression and suddenly have to start smiling. His eyes widen in surprise and I raise my eyebrows, still smiling softly.

"What?" I quietly laugh at his expression.

"Nothing, its just- I have never seen you smiling so happy." I roll my eyes gently. As I look at him closer now, I see the bulge in his pants and the loosened tie. As I lean forward, his eyes shift to my body.

"You still are fully clothed. A bit unfair, don't you think?" I watch him swallow and my hands move to his chest to slowly unbutton his shirt. As I also remove the tie and slip the shirt from his shoulders, I sit myself on his lap. Rocking my hips forward and seeing his eyes close. His hands move to my hips and begin to control the movements, my eyes close too and my head leans into the crook of his neck as the movements become faster.

Sighs and heavy breaths leave his lips and once again, one of his hands moves to grab my breasts, lightly grazing the nipples.

I look at him, noticing his swollen lips and his flushed cheeks. His hair is a mess and his forehead is furrowed, but he tries his best to pull himself together.

I groan as I look at him and suddenly think back to todays afternoon, when he was on a phone call and I heard how he listed one reciting fact after another, without any difficulty.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"N-nothing" I'm definitely too embarrassed to admit how much his intelligence and the way he seems to know everything, turns me on.

One of his hands moves to my entrance and teases me by just circling around it. When I try to push myself down, he pulls his fingers away.

"You tell me, whats going on in that pretty head of yours and you'll get me." My body feels so hot, I can't think properly anymore.

"You where on a phone call today and you just- you listed without any effort every single point that will help you win the case. You just said it like- it's nothing."

When his fingers dig into me again, I bite my lips. I try to control my moans and not pay attention to the fact, that I just gave him every opportunity to make him be more complacent than his usual self.

His fingers pump into me and I feel slightly overstimulated. But I wouldnt want to stop now.

"You get off by the thought of me, saying memorized facts? Who would have thought that my intelligence would turn you on so much." God, his ego probably doesn't fit in this apartment anymore.

"Don't think too highly of yourself, you still annoy me." Now I'm really just trying to get myself out of the situation. I lean towards him, so he can't say anything anymore and pull on his blonde hair to distract him.

Moans escape my lips and when I notice that his noises are also getting louder, I pull away from him. He looks at me confused.

"I want you inside me." Thats all I say, but he quickly complies with my request. I slide off his lap and wait for him to take off his pants and boxers until he's finally on top of me again. His fingers find my bottom lip and while maintaining eye contact, I open my mouth so he can insert a finger. My tongue brushes against his and after a few moments of him pressing on my tongue, he lets his fingers move back to the spot that needs him the most.

He stretches me for a few minutes until he finally guides his cock to my hole and slowly penetrates me. My eyes close and I hear his breath in my ear as he pushes further.

"You are so tight- good thing finally someone fucks you." I nod without thinking and hear his laughter in my ear.

"You think so too, huh. Would you let anyone fuck you then?" My stomach tenses, I feel the pleasure growing again and every movement of him. This feels so good-

I try to shake my head, but I'm too lost in the sensations to pay much attention to his words.

"No? But I thought, you hate me. Why would you let me fuck you, if you don´t even like me?" His thrusts become faster and more uncontrolled, I feel him getting closer to his own high.

"I-" I try to stutter "d-don´t hate you." I feel myself getting closer and reach into his hair, pulling at the roots and feeling his lips on my shoulder. His thrusts become more powerful and as he moves his hand and massages my clitoris, suddenly everything goes white in front of my eyes and I come.

I feel every inch inside of me, feel his fingers brush over the visible bulge in my stomach and think to myself: god I feel so full

When he comes too, I moan so loudly that it's impossible that my neighbors didn't hear me. His hand finds its way around my chin, he slides a finger into my mouth and I feel my vagina tighten because of it.

He hisses and his thrusts slow down until he finally pulls out of me, trying not to fall on top of me. As I give him some space next to me, he falls halfway on me, but pulls me on top of him in the next second and I can hear his strong heartbeat. With his outstretched hand he pulls the blanket over me, that had fallen to the floor.

We both try to catch our breath and as the minutes pass, only the wind outside is heard. He is the first to break the silence.

"So, you don't hate me?" I lift my head from his naked chest to look at him.

"Only sometimes." He shakes his head and smiles, gently stroking my back.

The evening went by quickly, we ordered a pizza and ate it (clothed) on the terrace. We were going over his documents for tomorrow, I blushed at the thought that this was the real reason he came here, but he just hugged me from behind after we finished and continued watching the stars.

It's not really clear what this evening means for us, but I don´t want to get into that, not yet. Because I'm not sure what it means anyway.

Because now, I have to get used to the fact that his voice no longer irritates me, that his jokes no longer annoy me and that he as a person, is actually not as bad as I imagined.

"Who thought, I was the one to get you relax."

But he is still a show-off.

#suits tv #mike ross #netflix #tv shows #x reader #fictional characters #smut #enemies to lovers #hate fuck

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