#MAYBE I WENT OFF THE TRACK AT SOME POINT TOO.. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 10 months ago

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Haunting You - G.S.

Synopsis. A bIoody trail of vampire attácks, a political marriage, and four suitors you’re forced to choose from - all haunting you. But none as much as the mysterious stranger that makes everything in you scream that you might just be fated for the very thing your kingdom is trying to escape from.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! princess! reader, king! Gojo, vampire AU, he’s actually ÍNSANE, royalty AU, arranged marriages, creampíes, breéding, fated mátes, FÉRAL down bad Gojo, mentions of bIood and kílling, bíting, óral (fem receiving), spítting, marks (a LOT), fíngering, pórn with plot tbh, overstím, ínnapropriate use of powers, jealous! Gojo, slight inspiration from Persephone and Hades, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 15.8k (HUH???)

A/N. Was listening to Haunted by Beyoncé, and my mind went “ooo vampires.” Hope y’all have a lovely week <3

In all your years being carefully primed to take over the throne, there have only been two rules you were raised under:

You live by the crown, and you will die by the crown. No matter what.

To stop the vampires - if your father, the king, fails to contain the bloody trail of killings before his own inevitable death, you have to. Or, more according to those tedious meetings with the table of elders, your husband will have to.

And it seems as if they were well and fully intent on enforcing that last rule as of late - with sharply increasing numbers of attacks on your local towns, the public was growing restless - and so was the royal court.

You weren’t doing any better either - but for a wholly different reason.

Maybe it was paranoia, but these days, you found yourself constantly catching a flash of crystal blue in the corner of your eye. Or hearing a sweet, sweet whisper in your ear deep at night. Maybe even a soft run of fingers down your spine as you were readied for yet another ball - hands much too large to be any of your ladies-in-waiting.

Like something was watching.

Waiting.

“And then I- your highness, are you listening?”

That familiar, grating voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you’re gasping in embarrassment as you turn back to the prattling man in front of you.

“My apologies, Lord Naoya.” you smile tightly, desperate to finish up yet another conversation about his latest cavalry expeditions. Nodding dismissively, “Just tired, please continue with your ah- wonderful tales.”

But of course, when he starts right back from the very beginning to “cover the key points you missed”, your stomach turns when you realize that you won’t be escaping any time soon. Great. Wonderful. Perfect.

God, future suitors your ass. You’d been taught that there’s no such company as “bad company” when you’re an heir to a kingdom, but this has been the fourth royal ball this month - and the biggest one yet. The fourth night you had to listen to another uptight lord show off his sparse battle medals, or another elder snide about how you’d be useless against the dangers of vampires.

You knew it was likely some coping mechanism with the grim deaths this week, but surely the nobles were tired of all this silly dancing? You sure were.

Gauzy dress just a bit too tight, sighs just a bit too loud than was permitted for the princess, you let your gaze wander across the brilliant ballroom. Those intricate gowns, the huge reflective wall, those little pastries you really wish you could walk away from this conversation and-

Blue.

Crystal blue.

“Wait! Did you see-” you startle, and it disappears as fast as it appeared. Your heavy skirts sway as you whirl around to uselessly track that odd burst of color, “Did you see that?”

“I know!” Naoya gasps, making you turn your head in excitement. “The light reflects off my medal so gorgeously! Oh, and this one-”

Dammit.

All through your life, it was this same color that’d been flitting occasionally through your vision, now haunting you almost every day.

You didn’t know where to look to find that familiar blue again - and you didn’t want to stand here waiting to find out. At the very least, your ears have definitely been assaulted with enough talk about horses and how “absolutely enormous” Lord Naoya’s weaponry at the Zenin Estate was.

Compensating, you muse.

The thought helps you plaster on a grin to your face, humming in a saccharine-sweet tone, “It pains me to cut through, my lord.” It really didn’t. “And I’d love to chat more later, but I think I hear my lady-in-waiting calling for me.”

He sputters, breathing out a few profanities under his breath that you catch. An arm raising as if to keep you in place, “Now, wait a minute-”

You’re angling your body expertly to make your dash. Batting your lashes deceivingly innocently, “Oh? What was that?” you cup your ear. “I hear her again- I really do apologize, but feel free to recount your valiant um- fairy tales in a letter.”

“But your father-”

Not waiting to hear the rest of his response, you barely even bother with a polite curtsy before determinedly weaving your way through the stuffy ballroom. Nodding by the nobles greeting you, waving past the throng of young lords that wanted to reel you into more conversation. Your satiny feet taking you anywhere but here - anywhere but where you could feel the still, heavy gaze of something burning into your back as you escaped.

You just prayed that it was only a miffed Naoya and nothing else.

It was around this time that the orchestra struck up another upbeat waltz, and with most people pairing off on the dance floor, barely anyone noticed you tip-toeing out of the ballroom.

“God-” you’re letting out a sigh of relief when you reach the long hallway, rubbing at your throbbing temples. “The next ball they host, m’gonna conveniently disappear, I swear.”

You didn’t care enough for what matchmaking would happen in the future anyway, no matter what the elders may tell you.

Your ballgown swishes with every urgent step through the quiet, dimly-lit corridors. Maybe a bit too quiet.

Strange. You knew that not many nobles would be wandering around the palace during a ball but, surely you can’t be the only one here? Where were the guards?

Just then, a soft winter breeze puffs against your left ear - and you inhale sharply. “Wha- hello?” you shudder, gaze darting around. “Anyone there?” But when only silence greets you, you’re struck with the sudden thought that the windows along the hallway were closed.

Where did the wind come from?

The realization has you taut with goosebumps pricking at your skin, your pace increasing ever-so-slightly. Gulping, you round the corner quickly, making a beeline for the closest haven you could find - the library.

Ducking past the towering stone archway, you hastily slam the door closed. It takes you a few seconds to get used to the darkness inside. With silvery moonlight ribbons filtering in through the curtained windows, you could just barely make out the rows upon rows of books you’d pestered your father into lining. Surrounded by heavyset tables, and your favorite, cushioned armchair. Luxurious, yet completely dwarfed when seating the lone silhouette-

“If this is an attack, then I surely don’t mind.”

“Fuck-” you scream, reflexively grabbing the nearest book spine you could reach to throw in the direction of the shadow. “Show yourself.”

Somehow, it’s as if the book bounces off an invisible forcefield, plopping down unceremoniously onto the velvety carpet right in front of the tall figure.

“And here I thought princesses usually curtseyed.” that deep, honeyed voice cuts right through your heavy breathing. He makes a move to get up - languid, and torturous, as if he enjoyed your agonizing suspense. “Well, maybe I do prefer being pelted by a- hey, that doesn’t mean pick up another book!”

In a split-second, you were brandishing a weighty encyclopedia this time - holding it firmly behind your head in a ready stance to throw once again.

“Show yourself.”

The man sighs, stepping into a channel of low light. It illuminated his stature - taller than you’d thought, towering well above most of the generals in the royal court. Muscled, yet lean - powerful, the thought strikes you. Magnetizing.

Someone from outside the kingdom, you observe, otherwise you’d have remembered that cloudy white hair, strands falling over a strange, black blindfold stretched across the upper half of his face. Leaving you only a set of high cheekbones, and a pert, pretty mouth to admire.

One that curls into such a mischievous smirk of neat pearly whites, and a tiny dimple digging into his cheek. “Now, I’ve never had anyone this eager to see me.” He drops into a courteous bow at the waist, expensive blue fabrics rippling. “From the North kingdom, Satoru, at your service, princess.”

Your hand falters - partially because of the heavy weight, partially because you recognised that gold “G” insignia in the middle of this stranger- Satoru’s uniform. The Gojo family.

That mysterious, estranged kingdom from the Northern part of the country that hadn’t been seen since you were young. You’d heard stories of them - everyone in this vast country had, it was impossible not to. Of their cruel winters and even crueler king, how blood stained every room in his palace. It was rumored he was a monster, and yet, no one ever saw his face - if they did, they never lived to tell the tale.

You knew your father had invited the king to every single ball out of diplomatic obligation, but he’d never attended. Never even bothered to respond.

So who was this?

“No one. Just a lowly attendant accompanying my king, your highness.” you’re jolting when he purrs, a brow quirking at just how he knew what you were thinking. “The question ah- showed on your face, my apologies.”

Finding your voice, “Um, I apologize, too, Satoru-” You note the lack of a last name, “-for the book. I can’t imagine being hit with Yaga’s 1001 Methods to Crochet was a very warm welcome.” And like a little truce, you’re placing down the encyclopedia in your hand. Flashing him your most practiced smile, “I bet you’re hiding out here for the same reasons as me, then.”

That draws out a pretty laugh from him, bubbly and boyish. “Mhm, the ladies just refuse to leave you alone, too?”

“Well, more like the lords there.”

He hums, something that sends a chill down your spine. Words just a little strained, “Not much for bragging about horses?”

And suddenly, you get the urge to snark back, huffing in a way you know your preparational teacher would faint at. “Absolutely not. I’d rather face a vampire than listen to Naoya and the “absolutely enormous” weaponry he uses to-”

“-compensate!”

“-compensate.” the two of you finish at the same time. “I like this place a lot better, it’s quiet- though…” your voice trails off in wonder. “It’s strange, guests aren’t supposed to be allowed in the library unsupervised.” His jaw clenches when your eyes sweep him, “We are supposed to have a few guards here but I don’t know where-”

All of a sudden, it’s like you’re being splashed with cold water. And your words are dying on your tongue when the room drops a few degrees in temperature.

Satoru is unnervingly still, yet he catches onto your slight shiver. “This damned wind, am I right?” And he’s gesturing at the windows with his head. The closed windows. Words tumbling quickly from those pink lips now, “Anyways- why don’t you sit down-” He prowls towards you, slow, confident. Large hands rest at your arms, they’re pale, surprisingly cold - guiding you easily to sit on the unoccupied armchair. “-since m’being nice enough to let you hide out here.”

His words drip with tease, and you still couldn’t see his eyes, but you imagined they’d be twinkling. No one ever dared to speak to you this way - it was always either thinly-veiled condescension or fear towards royalty.

Surprisingly, you didn’t mind.

You roll your eyes, trying to hold back your smile. “Yeah? Well what do I owe you in return for that, Satoru?”

His lips part, as if not expecting this response. Before letting out another sharp cackle at your expense, “Well, why don’t you-” You can’t tear your eyes away from his magnetic figure when Satoru begins unbuttoning his flowing coat to reveal a snow-white shirt underneath. Wrapping it snug around your shoulders in one, fluid motion, a hand of his tilts your head towards him. “-give me your soul?”

The Gojo emblem burns into your back, and Satoru’s deep, almost raspy tone rings in your ears. It sounded like a joke - but looking into his ethereal features, there was no trace of a grin on what you could see of it. And once again, you’re struck by the pure power radiating off of him.

You hoped it was a joke.

“S-soul’s not for sale.” you manage to choke out, trying to make it look like you weren’t breathing in his metallic, peppermint scent. Heady. Pulling the soft fabric tighter around your cold body, “Steep price for a hideout, don’t you think?”

“S’a discount for you, flower.” his chilling breath fans your face. Letting out hushed, “Heh, you should see the prices I charge others.”

You’re reeling, face burning, “Flower?”

“Because you’re shaking like one, see?” The pads of his fingers move from under your chin to trace up, up, up the goosebumps on your exposed arms. Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to pull away.

Hypnotic.

And his steps are soundless as he walks over behind you, the moonlight giving him an angelic halo. Haunting, almost. “And you’re just as gorgeous, like a wild rose. Way too gorgeous for the fuckin’ bastards out there, might I add, princess.”

The nerve!

Heart pounding, you turn around to- call him out for his disrespect? Snap back? Accept the compliment?

You don’t know - and you don’t get to find out, either. Because before your eyes can search for Satoru’s mysterious figure, the door to the library is slamming open with a deafening bang!

“Ah! There you are!” your lady-in-waiting’s relieved voice floods your ears. And she’s barging in with no comment about your sudden stiffness, or that foreign coat around your shoulders. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you, your highness. His majesty is just about to make his speech of the night and needs you there.”

Shit, out of all the scandals.

“I- I can explain.” You’re desperately trying to catch Satoru’s eye to make up an excuse for why you’re alone with a strange man away from the ball, shooting from your seat to look around the library. “We’re just-”

The suddenly empty library.

“Yes yes, I understand that the balls aren’t exactly your favorite pastime.” The oblivious girl is pushing you towards the door, brown eyes narrowed. “But we’ve got to get going now.”

Despite her wrangling you outside, you manage to sneak a few glances backwards, straining to see if he was hiding in the shadows. Only to be met with a now-rumpled armchair and the still, dark bookshelves. As bare as if Satoru never existed - the only proof of his existence being a sad copy of Yaga’s 1001 Methods to Crochet lying on the ground.

And yet, you can’t help but feel a pair of eyes on you.

You feel it all through the short walk back to the ballroom, Nobara’s excited chatter about how finely your all-new coat was made filtering through one ear and out the next. Even when you reach the edge of the dance floor, even when you feel every single other eye in the room on you - you feel it.

“Um, Nobara.” you whisper, discreetly shuffling the coat off your shoulders. “Please take this to my chambers for me.”

The younger girl is positively bursting at the seams, murmuring conspiratorially to you, “So is this where you were? With who- The “G” what does that-”

“Ah! My daughter!” Saved by your father’s booming voice - though, you wouldn’t consider it too much of a salvation when you’re immediately being whisked away to the high platform your father’s throne was seated on. His arms spread wide to greet you in a hug despite stiff etiquette.

“You’re late.” he whispers in your ear.

It’s all you can do to manage out a quiet, “S-Sorry.”

Without another word, he’s addressing the congregation in the middle of the dance ballroom again. More ruler than father at this very moment. “My people, we are gathered here today to dance, to sing, to forget about the horrors happening in our beloved nation.” To large murmurs of agreement he continues, “And despite it all, it’s a reality we must all live with. Me, especially, as your king, have a duty to fulfill.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you wonder where this is all going - your father never brought up vampires during a time like this. Never.

Clearing his throat, “And as we all know, I’m not getting any younger here, unfortunately. Which is why-” He claps his hands once, and three figures - one of which being Naoya, amongst two other nobles you briefly recognized - step forward from the crowd. “Ah- there should be one more- Anyway, after thorough consideration with the table of elders, we have decided to go forward with the betrothal process for my dear daughter here. With the joining of hands will not only be the joining of kingdoms - but the joining of arms, and our people shall prevail as one over the vampires.”

You think you might stop breathing, eyes burning and trained firmly on the ground. This had been a topic of conversation - well, more the elders conversing while you skipped out on every meeting once this discussion was brought up.

You knew this would happen. You knew. But now? At this very moment? All you can do is stand there and listen while he rattles off.

“I know four of the- erm, three of the most eligible young suitors of the land will do their utmost to vie for her heart - and her hand. No easy task I tell you.” Your fists clench, head swimming. “And in a week’s time, we will hold the grand ball to announce my successor.”

Shit - a week. A week.

Somewhere in your line of vision you see - you feel that spark of blue. And you’re raising your head to cheers echoing from all around the room, and still no sign of where those eyes are.

“The next time we meet, will be with the future king and queen!”

Fuck.

---

That night was spent with a few too many tears, and a consoling Nobara at your side all until daybreak. And if you held onto that comforting, peppermint-scented coat through it all, well, you were only glad that you seemed too pitiful for her to question it.

Feeling much more composed and only slightly less bitter about the prospect of being married off to a stuck-up noble you didn’t know, you made your way to breakfast the next morning. An affair usually spent with your father, or in the palace gardens - but this time, surrounded by four suitors under the guise of getting to know you. Sizing each other up, maybe.

“Ah, your highness, good morning!” you sweetly reciprocate the greetings once you’re escorted into the dining room, taking your seat at the very end of the long, mahogany table.

Sighing you take in the scene - on your left was Lord Naoya from last night, the same sharp grins and shifty eyes as you remembered. Seated beside him was the young duke of the Kashimo clan - hair striking, his battle staff laid out next to him on the table. Intimidating.

But nothing in comparison to the hulking man on your right, it seemed as if his uniform was on the verge of bursting. Face sullen, letting his pink locks fall into place - Sukuna, you think you remember.

“Your highness.” Ichiji bows, taking his place supervising the breakfast. “I am afraid our guests from the Northern kingdom will not be able to attend this breakfast today. He sends his deepest apologies. B-but-” His face-paled, looking scarred for life. “-he did have his um- attendant send this note-”

You’re gratefully taking the creamy scrap of paper before the words have even left Ichiji’s mouth, flipping it over to reveal slanted, beautiful calligraphy - Apologies for the sudden departure last night, flower. And I hope you forgive my king for not being here to deter the talk of horses - duty holds both man and beast from freedom. Worry not, we will be seeing your sweet smile again soon. But, for now, give those three bastards a rude gesture from me.

You giggle, tucking away the note. A tiny pang of disappointment hitting you out of nowhere at the lack of that gold “G” emblem anywhere along the table - and more importantly, the white-haired enigma that would follow.

All three men were glowering, yet begrudgingly plowing on with their conversation from before as you settled. Not having the energy to contribute, you listened in.

“-this would never have happened in my estate.”

“Oh buzz off-” Kashimo interrupts Naoya, before throwing a guilty look your way at his crass words. As if you didn’t say worse. “Apologies, your highness. As I was saying-” he turns back to the man. “Don’t think we haven’t heard of those vampire killings in your court that you tried to cover up, your defense isn’t as impenetrable as you want it to seem, Naoya.”

That causes you to raise your brow - and evidently, Sukuna’s as well. “That so? Little fraud, aren’t ya, Zenin?”

The shorter man sputters indignantly, “You- you little- you call me a fraud and yet you’re the only one who didn’t bother to help investigate last night? Got something to hide, oh king-of-curses?”

“Tch, shut up.” That little nickname ticked something off in Sukuna, and his grip on his delicate fork tightens. Smirk intentionally bared to piss off, “It’s just because when the princess marries me, she won’t have to worry about vampires attacking guards in the middle of a ball.”

Wait, what?

“Yeah right, you and what army because I have an absolutely enormous-”

“What do you mean?” Your smooth voice cuts through their bickering, and all three men freeze, gazes snapping to you as if they’d already forgotten you were there. “I didn’t hear about any killings last night.”

If you thought they were tense before then you weren’t prepared for right now - shoulders raising in surrender, for all their blabbering, not a word was uttered after your accusatory question. After a few beats of silence, you scoff in frustration, turning towards your escort, squirming and avoiding your pointed stare at the very corner of the room.

“Ichiji.” The man looked like he could positively give anything to blend into the meticulously hand-painted flowers on the wall. “Ichiji, tell me what happened.”

“P-princess!” he yelps, adjusting his glasses. “I- I’m afraid the king said- please I can’t-”

“Ichiji…”

“P-please don’t banish me-”

You’re on your feet now, cornering the poor man. Mentally, you make a note to give him a raise. Eyes narrowing, “I won’t banish you, but as the future queen I have a right to know, don’t I?”

“...”

“...please?”

And the remaining men had been watching with morbid fascination as you worked your magic. They were already aware that the frail attendant was the weakest link out of them all, but what they certainly did not expect was exactly how weak.

It only took a single bat of your lashes before his pale cheeks colored an almost-concerning pink. Eyes scrunching shut in embarrassment, as the words spilled from his lips. Neverending and slurring with haste as he speaks in one breath, “Th-three of the guards stationed near the outer corridor and library wing were found killed by a vampire last night before you retired for the night, your highness. Their b-bodies were disposed of, and this in combination with all the recent killings was why the king hurried the announcement for your engagement. B-but, his majesty decreed that this never be relayed to you in order to keep you in high spirits after the betrothal eep-!”

“Is- is that so?” you breathe, eyes wide. Taking one last look at the four speechless men, before walking out of the tall doorway. “I seem to have lost my appetite, I will be heading for my chambers now. I sincerely hope you enjoy your stay, my lords.”

Shit shit shit - how did you not notice?

Maybe you walked right past the killer last night and didn’t even realize - who knows what could’ve been hiding in the shadows. How did you not realize? How did you not see?

Just then, a thought strikes you - did Satoru see?

---

It’s one of the whirlwind of questions ringing around in your mind even by the time you hear a steady knock on your door. Jolting you upright from where you splayed out on your plush, silken bed, rows upon rows of books on vampires haphazardly surrounding you.

Peering out of your large window, you notice the hues of pink and red painting the sky, a big red sun just dipping below the horizon - shit, when did you even fall asleep?

“Come in.” you answer, voice scratchy. Rubbing away the sleep in your eyes, you could barely make out the hazy outline of Ichiji standing in your doorway.

“Ah- your highness, I apologize for waking you up.” he bows. “But master Kashimo will be headed out for a late-night hunt at this very moment, and requested your presence shall you wish it. He noticed that you seemed upset at breakfast, and wanted to make it up to you.”

You take a moment to mull over the question - it certainly was rude for you to just ignore your guests all day. And considering you might just be marrying one of them, it wouldn’t kill anyone to actually get to know them.

“Alright.” you reply, voice even. And your answer seems to surprise the other man, “Tell Tsukumo to get my gear ready, I will be down as soon as I change.”

“Y-yes, princess! I will call for Nobara to help you get dressed.”

As the door shut once more behind him, you threw off your heavy blanket- and your coat? Satoru’s coat, which had evidently been draped around your upper half. Heart stuttering, you didn’t remember putting that on before…

Hm, you had to thank Nobara for that later.

---

Hunting with Kashimo was, unexpectedly, dull.

“So…” you drag your words, trying to fill the tense silence. “What is it that we’re actually hunting for-”

“Shhh-” you hear for about the third time this past hour. A brow of yours quirking at the way it seemed like the two of you had been wandering the woods belonging to your kingdom’s estate for hours, and you still didn’t know what it was you were supposed to be looking for.

Alright, perhaps hunting wasn’t the best opportunity to get to know your potential future husband.

“My lord…” you call out warily, already aware of the duke’s affinity for hunting. “Maybe we should rest for a bit, after all, the stars are out already and the moon is so bright.”

He barely even turns to look back at you, “No time. The woods belonging to your kingdom have some of the rarest species of cursed animals in this country. I must make the most of this week in that case, your highness.”

You brighten at the closest shred of conversation in so long. “Oh, yes, I’ve heard! I also hear they-”

“Shh!”

So close.

Letting out a resigned sigh, your eyes glaze over as you watch Kashimo trace his thick fingers over animal tracks on the dirt. Suddenly, gesturing for you to follow him as he sped off in another direction.

It doesn’t take too long for him to stray out of sight. Meanwhile, your legs lag behind in protest - and pettiness, you realize. Grumbling to yourself about how you’d rather have watched paint dry as you’re sure the elders often did. Well, you look at the now-barren pathway, at least now you didn’t have to worry about someone shushing you all the ti-

“AHH!”

And then, all of a sudden - it felt like you were the hunted.

It’s like every bit of blood drains from your body at the blood-curdling scream. Grip tightening on your bow, you’re jolting at the direction it came from - where did Kashimo disappear off to again?

Yet, for how much you knew your kingdom like the back of your hand, it’s so dark. The moon barely peeking through gloomy gray wisps of clouds that you don’t know where exactly you’re running to - just that something was tugging. Reeling you in. No destination in sight until you’re crashing face-first into- a wall?

“Hey, flower, where are ya running off to this late?”

Your hairs raise, something visceral in your body jolting.

Satoru - blindfold and all.

“Wh- Satoru thank God you’re here.” you gasp, looking nervously over his broad shoulders. “I heard a scream, and I’m worried about Kashimo because he went somewhere over there and-” You’re pointing aimlessly in his direction, before clasping a hand around Satoru’s defined bicep. Tugging, “You have to help me, that idiot even insisted on no guards because of disturbing the wildlife and I’m so worried and-”

Before you can react, big strong arms are enveloping you. And you’re suddenly hit with the smell of peppermint and Satoru - something so sickly sweet tinging the air, it makes you droop limply into his firm hold. Your skin burns when he breathes in, deep.

“Shhh shhh, I know I know, princess.” he hums, pulling you deeper against his chest. Until you could feel every dip and curve of his pectorals. “You must’ve been scared, right?” At your hesitant nod, “You did good. You did perfect- in fact. Especially putting up with that pretentious bastard.”

The shocked laugh that drags from your throat has Satoru sighing contentedly, an almost-pained grunt leaving him as he pulls away ever-so-slightly. You felt much the same.

“S’alright, I’m pretty sure it was some animal.” he soothes. He clasps your hands with his, running a damp thumb over your knuckles. “I saw him trudging about disturbing more wildlife over there.”

You breath catches in your chest at just how close Satoru was now, his breath mingling with yours. Pretty plump lips so close - too close. Yet you’re leaning in closer, like you’re drawn by a thread. “Are you sure? Maybe we should-” You gasp, eyes widening when you look down at where your hands were intertwined - red. Or, what you assumed to be red, a saturated, patchy stain on your hands where Satoru’s met yours. He stiffens when he follows your gaze, trying to pull away, but you only hold your grip harder. “Satoru, are you bleeding? Or is this-”

“Not mine.” his voice is hard - and for a second you have to wonder whether this is really the same Satoru. And you swear there’s a little tremor in his words as he explains, “You see, I went out on a little hunt myself, flower.”

Even if Satoru didn’t have his blindfold on, you’re sure his face would’ve been unreadable. That almost-familiar grin of his is strained. Too strained. Yet, his movements are unwavering as he tries to wipe away the blood. “Must’ve forgotten to wipe down, I apologize for sullying your hands, princess.”

“Let me-” you mutter, taking a hold of the coat around your shoulders to wipe away the blood. Uncaring for what you were dirtying at the moment. “I swear you need to take better care of yourself, Satoru. Seriously.”

And you didn’t see them - but somehow you could just feel the amusement dancing in Satoru’s eyes. Raising your confused gaze up to meet his, “What?”

He only flashes you a knowing grin, “S’jus’, you’re wearing my coat, your highness.”

Your movements pause, mouth gaping open while you try to pathetically spout out an excuse. “I- I didn’t mean to get this coat dirty, oh my god. I didn’t think-”

“S’alright.” he inches in even closer. A smirk grazing those sinful lips of his, “I actually prefer it like that, you look like mine.” Taking a deep breath, “You smell like mine.”

And before you can ask about his cryptic message, he’s placing a hand at the back of your waist. A very improper hand that would definitely make the elders gasp in scandal. “We should head back to the palace, it’s getting late. I will escort you, m’sure that born hunter of yours is already halfway back too.”

“Carry me.” you blurt out, your body aching to feel more of him. And before you can retract your words - probably sputter a few apologies, you’re being cradled by a smug Satoru. One hand under your knees, the other supporting you like you’re weightless.

“Heh, a princess carry for a princess.”

“Oh, shut up.” you grumble with embarrassment when he walks forward slowly, your legs swaying in midair. “Want my soul for this as well?”

And you can feel Satoru’s muscles ripple, you can feel the way his breath hitches in his chest ever-so-slightly. Rumbling as he drawls, “More than you’d know.”

“S’that a discount, too? You still didn’t tell me what you charge others.” you quip, remembering the conversation from the night before.

“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough, your highness.”

You’re quirking a brow, something hot churning at the pit of your stomach at that ragged tone to his words. “I’m onto you, y’know.” You stare up at his clenched jaw, highlighted in the dim moonlight. His long, pale neck, the crevices of his blindfold. For a moment, you wonder what it would be like if you could peek under. “Onto you and your absurdly high prices, Satoru.”

He breathes out a shuddering, overly-dramatic shudder. “Mhm, flower, I should be worried.” Before looking up at the sky - and you wondered just how well he could see through his blindfold. “The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

That night, you dreamt of long-winded star-gazing and blue, blue eyes.

---

“What do you mean Lord Kashimo has left for his kingdom?” you hiss, feeling a faint stab of offense. Seriously, were you that awful at hunting? “He didn’t make any indication of it last night.”

And if your careless words made Nobara beam with slight embarrassment, you didn’t take note of it - too caught up in what you’d just heard. Enough so that it takes her next words to bring you out of your stupor, “Exactly what I said, your highness. The lordship and his court have all vacated their wing, leaving behind only a letter of forgiveness for ending the festivities early.”

“Still.” you murmur petulantly. Setting aside another one of your books on Vampire: Mates, Murder, and More. “It’s strange, I thought he was here for the hunting sprees, if not for me.” Your tiara weighs heavy on your head as you turn to your young lady-in-waiting. “I would like for Ichiji to catch up to Kashimo’s traveling party, make sure they’re safe, and send them my well wishes.”

Ha! Take that elders - you’d show them you’re fully capable of holding diplomatic relations as a ruler.

“As you wish, princess. Additionally, this-” She’s holding out a small pouch of blue fabric that you’d never seen before. “-was found by your bedside when cleaning and I wished to give it back safely.” Before her polite smile drops into a much more devious smirk, “A gift from one of the suitors, perhaps~?”

You gesture for her to hand it over, the silk casing soft under your touch. Detailed. One-of-a-kind, from what your tedious lessons in the history of fabrics had taught you. You didn’t recognize the patterns sewn onto it as something typical for your kingdom - or any other you’d learned about, really.

“M’not sure.” you whisper. Opening the little purse to reveal a flash of gold - a necklace. Thin and intricate, holding a sapphire pendant in the shape of an eye.

Blue.

A blue you knew too well - the same one that peeked out from every dark corner, that you saw before you slept at night. The one that’s been by your side for years.

Constant. Now coming to haunt you.

Chills run down your spine, and your fingers tremble at how life-like it looked. Burning into your very soul.

“Would you like for me to help you put it on?” Nobara asks, mistaking your shock for difficulty. And yet, you don’t correct her - body moving before your mind to simply nod.

There was only one clasp on the chain - leaving you to worry about the fit. But when it was hooked around your neck, you found that it fit you so perfectly. Like it was tailored to you - and only you. Why was it so perfect?

Why did it capture the exact color you’d been chasing after your whole life - since before you’d even formed memories? Since you were nothing but a surly, teary-eyed little girl that was crying about the dark, babbling about that “blue flash” that no one else ever seemed to see.

“If that will be all, your highness. I will take my leave.” With a nod and a low bow, you’re left all by yourself in your sprawling chambers. Wondering, somewhat in amusement, whether you’d be let off this marriage pact if all the other suitors suddenly left as well. Hell, maybe you could marry whoever got you this necklace since they apparently know you so well.

And you swear - maybe it was the fatigue from trekking last night, maybe it was the stress from the past month - but you swear the wind picks up in its chilly bite. Howling just low enough that it sounds like a deep, taunting cackle.

The necklace doesn’t leave its palace around your neck for the next few days. You still didn’t know who’d gifted it to you - right inside your chambers for god’s sake - and if either of the two suitors remaining knew, they didn’t make any indication of it either.

Three, technically, but it seemed that the more the days passed, the less you saw of the mysterious king of the Northern kingdom.

While Sukuna and Naoya had taken it upon themselves to woo you by joining you in your daily activities, he hadn’t even shown his face to you yet. You were sure your father would’ve had him humiliated and thrown out of the palace already if he wasn’t afraid for his life.

But you didn’t mind, because you saw enough of Satoru to make up for King Gojo and Kashimo. The man seemed well and fully intent to stick by your side, talking yourselves well into the night.

It was on a night like this - sprawled out along the plush armchairs in the very library you’d met, only a few days after Kashimo’s departure - you asked, “Satoru, what color are your eyes?”

That makes him pause in the middle of his extremely animated story about how he’d caught Earl Yaga in the middle of an artistic dance routine. The baritone of his voice cracking so uncharacteristically as he responds with, “Wh-why do you ask, princess?”

“Because.” you roll your eyes. “In four days m’gonna be marrying, and it might just be your king. Yet, I don’t even know his attendant’s eye color - what type of good queen would I be then?”

You knew it was a flimsy excuse, truthfully you just wanted to see Satoru. All of Satoru.

“Not many have wanted to look into my eyes”

You tilt your head, “How come?”

“Well, I can assure you that they aren’t half as alluring as yours.” Satoru pushes back your tiara ever-so-slightly to reveal your face to him better, fingers dancing down to fiddle with your pendant. “You’re a strange one, aren’t ya, flower?” he chuckles, face inching closer to yours - and for a moment, you think he might do something else. “Tell me, how are the wedding preparations going?”

Ah, right - the wedding preparations. Your wedding preparations, to someone else.

Did you want him to do something else?

“W-well-” you pull back from his hypnotic presence. Heart lurching, necklace burning cold into your skin. “Sukuna keeps trying to teach me his very particular diet, I swear I’ve spent much more time with Uraume learning it than with him- they’re a sweetheart though, I can’t complain.” Eyes trying to avoid the intensity of his gaze, “Oh- and Naoya still talks about his weaponry, however, I think his Zenin elders had a word with him because he asked to meet me in the gardens tomorrow evening to actually get to know me for once.”

You brave to take a look at Satoru at the end of his spiel - only to be met with a face you never thought you’d see. His mouth a tight gash, jaw ticking, and you could almost hear the grinding of his teeth.

Terrifying. Magnetic.

Powerful.

The library was always cold - but you fail to suppress a shiver at the sudden grip in the air. “S-Satoru?”

And suddenly, at the mere sound of your voice, everything clicks back to normalcy. You’re staring that familiar grin painted onto his face again, musing slyly, “How much d’you wanna bet he’ll ask about your weaponry instead?”

“Oh, shut up.”

It’s only much, much later at night when you’re forced to retire early - Satoru slipping past the library earlier than usual with groans of his “attendant duties” that you realize - he didn’t answer your question.

---

“P-princess, will you be alright going alone? I don’t think-”

“It’ll be alright, Ichiji, I’m just meeting Lord Naoya.” you wave off the stammering man. Tugging your velvety coat snugly around your body, “Honestly, you act like I haven’t been out in the gardens alone before.”

And it was true, since returning from his little meeting with the Kashimo court, your jumpy attendant seemed even more so - and you didn’t even know that was even impossible. Always peeking cautiously behind corners of the winding hallways, always hovering close by you even when his duty didn’t require it.

He’d told you - in that quiet, shaky voice of his - that Kashimo was well, and headed straight for his kingdom to fulfill emergency duties. To which you’d accepted - you understood the gravity of responsibility, after all.

“But- but, your highness!” he gasps, pulling you out of your little reverie. “I don’t think- with the way he-”

A spine-chilling breeze rustles the nearby tree, sending shivers down your spine. Howling in your ears. You squint your eyes against the cold, “Sorry, what was that, Ichiji?”

But the man in front doesn’t speak - fuck, you didn’t even know if he was breathing. Face a sickly pallor, mouth gaping open and shut like he wanted to say something - he needed to say something. Yet, he wasn’t even looking at you, wide eyes locked on something over your shoulder.

“Are you-” Your body holds you back, feeling two burning eyes on you - and you have to force yourself to look over your shoulder. Only to see- nothing? “-are you alright?”

Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, you’re turning back to face your attendant - only to see him sprinting back down the entrance as fast as his knobbly legs could carry him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then!” you call, hoping it echoed far enough to be heard.

Strange.

It’s all you can think about for the next half an hour you’re seated on that dainty, painted bench in the middle of the palace gardens, waiting for your potential future husband. And for the next hour. And the next.

It’s by the time the sun has fully set, when twinkling stars are dotting the night sky that you settle with the conclusion that yes, it seems that Naoya has already made his decision about the marriage. And no it doesn’t end with a wedding.

“Dammit.” you spit, running a hand through the hair you had Nobara fuss about with. “S’not like I wanted to marry you anyway, bastard.”

And you didn’t - you really didn’t. Whenever you dared to imagine walking down that decorated aisle, Naoya was the last person you saw.

But seated alone and abandoned, trying to cover yourself from the biting chill of the night, you never felt more like an unworthy heir. Fuck, if no one wanted to marry you how would you even dare to think of taking over the throne?

Maybe you should just-

“We have got to stop meeting like this, flower. S’like you’re haunting me.”

“Satoru!” you gasp, throwing yourself into his embrace. You’re reaching up to loop two arms around his neck, “Oh, you wouldn’t believe it. That asshole had the audacity to stand me up.” Pulling back so your face ghosts his, “I got all dolled up just for him to leave me like this. As if I wanted to be with him, I was just trying to be a good- a good h-host and-”

Suddenly, you’re struck with the realization of how close you two actually are. You could count every crease on his blindfold, pinpoint exactly where every dimple at the corner of his grin was.

Your hands slide their way down to his sculpted chest, pushing slightly. “-I apologize, this was forward of me.”

But his arms only tighten around your waist - when did they even get there? Large and steady, pulling you back to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, your racing pulse. “Stay.” he groans, and he sounds slightly out-of-breath, heavy exhales tickling your ear.

“We can’t be caught like this, Satoru.” you breathe, but that familiar little tug has you shuffling closer. Breathing in that familiar metallic sweet scent you’ve grown to love, “I- I’m getting-” Bile creeps up at the back of your throat, and you laugh bitterly. “I think I’m getting married in three days, y’know? To Lord Sukuna, I assume, since two of my suitors ah- ran away and the other refuses to even see my face.”

His thick fingers dig deeper into the extravagant corset at your waist, “I know. Fuck- don’t I know.”

It’s a steady beat of silence, so still. So tense you could hear every stuttering heartbeat of yours, and strangely enough, you had the nagging feeling that he could, too.

“You could just marry me.” Satoru’s abrupt confession breaks the silence, and you find yourself sinking deeper into his soft coat. Wrapping yourself up in his heady presence. “Be my queen. You wouldn’t have to worry about duties or elders or- or vampires.”

And the night was still. So still.

Despite the way your heart races, eyes blinking up in disbelief, you find it in yourself to deadpan, “F-funny. Do I have to give you my soul for that as well?” Oh, some stupid little part of you think you might just have.

And you’d expected Satoru to crack a laugh, to give you a teasing smile while he carried on that little inside joke between the two of you. You’d expected him to no sooner shove you off and talk about it being late. Hell, a part of you even expected this to be some elaborate set-up from the elders to get you caught in such a compromising position with the no-longer stranger from the Northern kingdom.

But, no. It’s anything but that - everything but that.

Because the taller man only rasps, nose-to-nose now, “No.” Sounding like his sanity was slipping away from him with every breath, fingers making their dance down to twirl your sapphire pendant between them. “I’d give you mine.”

You can feel his breath fanning your cheeks, head dipping slowly - so torturously slowly. As if he was giving you ample opportunity to run away if you wanted to. But you don’t think you could move for the life of you.

Instead, you’re dipping closer, gliding the tip of your thumb over his defined cheekbone. Mere millimeters away - just one push. Another hand of yours steadies at the back of his neck, feeling those snowing locks under your fingers.

One.

Your thumb dips just under the seam of his blindfold - unwillingly.

“Your highness.” Satoru’s voice is cold, his fingers lacing with your own even colder. Something eerie. And even with the delicate touch you could feel the power thrumming through Satoru’s body. “This is for you.”

You can only stand there in shocked silence as the moment shatters, and he produces a wild rose as if out of thin air. “Consider it from King Gojo.” Touch searing against yours when he hands it to you, you feel drunk off of him “Perhaps the night is late now.”

Right. The king.

When you’re walking back in the directions of the palace’s warm lights, you don’t think you’ve ever felt safer. Strangely enough.

“Satoru.”

“Yes?”

“I’m onto you.”

“You’re onto me.” he’s tucking the bloom over your ear. Before stepping back into the inky pool of shadows beside the entrance you came from. “Sweet dreams, flower.”

That night, when you tuck yourself into bed, you swear you hear a faint whisper of those same three words lulling you to sleep. Over and over.

Sweet.

Dreams.

Flower.

---

Floral preservation was one of the lessons you’d been forced to attend growing up in the palace, but even you didn’t know how that wild rose Satoru gifted you hadn’t wilted yet.

It remained as fresh and prim as the night it was picked, bluish pink petals never fading. You didn’t keep it safely in a bowl of water amongst the other plants and flowers in your bedroom. Somehow, never out of place, always tucked safely behind your ear in the days that followed. Perhaps it was improper to keep it on you even when you were being fitted into an engagement gown to be promised off to another man. But Satoru didn’t complain, and you didn’t either.

With Kashimo departing for his kingdom early, and Naoya apparently following in his footsteps due to “irrevocable differences”, it was now almost confirmed that the future king was to be Lord Sukuna. Not like King Gojo had made any effort to reach out - and Satoru hadn’t mentioned it either.

Satoru.

Things were…the same after that night, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

It must be done, you sigh, wincing at the pinch of the flowing white dress being suited onto you by the bustling tailor. At least it could be worse, even if you’d rather…

“Honestly, young people these days.” Yaga speaks up from where he was fussing with the silken hem of your gown for tomorrow. “I heard of that Naoya brat leaving out of nowhere, princess. My condolences.”

“Ah-” you startle, not expecting to be addressed. “It’s not your fault, we likely didn’t mesh all that well. I just wish he left a note- Honestly, I’m lucky to even have a suitor left after these six days.”

Another grimace leaves you when you feel another tweak of pins pricking at your skin. The other man hums lowly, “Don’t say that, anyone would be lucky to have you. Anyway-” He gets up from his position kneeling, towering over you to admire his own work. “How do you like it, your highness?”

You let out a gasp when you face the floor-length mirror, “Oh my god, it’s perfect.” The dress was regal, decadent. With flowing tresses resembling a petals, and gilded gold and blue weaved into the fabric.

Blue.

“I fashioned it after that necklace and flower of yours.” You unwittingly reach for that familiar pendant, “I ah- forgive the assumption, but I assumed you would be wearing them both at the betrothal ceremony tomorrow, princess?”

Taking another long look in the mirror, you nod, “Yeah. I will.”

---

“I knew it.” he laughs shrilly. “I fuckin’ knew there was something wrong with you. As soon as I saw you butterin’ the princess up in the library, I knew you were a fuckin’ freak.”

The other man only responds with ominous silence, letting labored breathing cut through the bone-chilling air. Clearly unsatisfied, “What? Not gonna talk now? Aren’t ya just in it for the crown like me? Have the bitch, just give me the crown.” Goading now, “I bet you’re not even an attendant are ya- I know what you are-”

His words are cut off with another choked-up gasp, followed shortly by a strained growl. “I know- what you are-”

Red stains the marble floor - a problem for later.

“I know, King Gojo.” And it’s the last thing he sees. “And you’ll reap what you sow, she’ll never love you.”

Blue.

“You’ve haunted me too long, flower.”

“Satoru–!” you scream, throwing your soft bed sheets off your body.

It was burning - you were burning, gasping for the cold lungfuls of air that filled your empty bedroom. Mind bleary, distantly, you register that it’s around daybreak - tiny fingers of golden sunlight just barely dipping through your window - your open window.

Hastily, you’re tumbling out of bed to slam it shut. Heart still pounding when you take in the mess of flower petals from those congratulatory bouquets you’d gotten. Ruined. Only the stems left in the vases after that sudden, chilling wind.

“What-” Your eyes dart around to look over your dresser, where you always kept Satoru’s wild rose. And a shiver creeps down your spine when you realize it lay snug tucked behind your ear, safe and sound. Exactly where you didn’t keep it. “-happened?”

You couldn’t settle back into bed after that - couldn’t even think about it. So you find yourself reaching for your wardrobe of dresses, running your fingers along the intricate gown made for your engagement ball tonight. Your engagement to Sukuna.

If this was the nightmare, and tonight was to be the dream - why did your stomach turn so?

---

It was difficult convincing Nobara to let you keep the wild rose on after getting ready.

“But that’s so last season.” she bemoans. “No offense, your highness, but even old lady Ogami wouldn’t be caught dead wearing flowers in her hair these days.”

You’re giving her your best puppy dog eyes, “Please, Nobara?”

“No.”

“I’ll let you raid my exclusive wardrobe the next time you want to play dress-up?”

“...”

Which was how you found yourself shoved into a dress that was way too gorgeously palatial, barely even having the time to admire the lush gold and blue decorations around the sparkling ballroom before you were being ushered next to your father on his throne.

You fiddle with your ringed fingers, feeling more and more like a lamb sent to slaughter - a very opulent slaughter - with each step.

“I am so proud of you for this week, and you look absolutely divine, my love.” your father whispers into your ear once you’re up on the crushed velvet platform. “I hear from Ichiji that you know, I apologize we couldn’t go through with this marriage under better circumstances.”

You shake your head, giving him a calm smile - you’d already forgiven him, sometimes there was duty far greater than any man.

“My people, as promised, we are gathered once more to celebrate the joining of two hands - and two kingdoms.” The king projects his voice out to the eager crowd, “Together, these two young loves will face their duty. They will face the dangers. They will face our future.”

The thought had you clenching your fist into the soft fabric of your gown, looking down at your feet in a bow.

“As I did with my father before me - God rest his soul - the future king and queen will oversee their responsibilities to protect our people from those treacherous vampires. The elders-” he stops short, eyes widening at the empty seats on the balcony - where the table of elders always sat. Abandoned. Chilling. “...have decreed, in accordance with our princess, to introduce my daughter to you all as our future queen-”

Your father gestures a hand your way, and you step forwards to cheers, still not daring to look up. And all you could see were two, gold-toed boots stepping into your field of vision.

“-and our future king!”

“Look up, flower, this is the best part.”

Gasping, you raise your head - Satoru.

“Y-you?”

He smiles that pearly smile at you, one that makes your knees weaken, “Me.” Before leaning down conspiratorially, “Better get moving now, the king just declared that the big bad Northern king and the precious princess will have their first dance as a couple.”

It felt like you were moving through a dream as you slip your hand into his, flinching at the feeling of his cold lips meeting the back of your hand.

The crowd of whispering nobles part to make a path for the two of you, and Satoru is so gentle when he leads you into the middle of the dance floor. Weightless on his feet, swiftly placing a burning hand on your waist - just below where the elders would consider proper.

The other intertwining with yours, you barely even register the slow, romantic tune playing from the orchestra.

“I bet you have questions.” he whispers, breath fanning your cheeks.

You take in his tall figure, the rows of medals, gleaming only half as bright as the smile that makes its way onto your face. Hissing, “That doesn’t cover the half of it, King Gojo.”

“I-I apologize. I can’t apologize enough but-”

“Though, I did have a nagging feeling about the fifth time you talked yourself up.” you smirk.

Satoru throws his head back in a loud cackle, echoing through the hushed crowds - no doubt gossiping about this being the Northern king, that fearful beast that ruled over the Gojo family. “I know.” His hand comes up momentarily to brush over your sapphire necklace, “And I’ll spend our entire lives making it up to you, flower.”

Goosebumps dance down your arm, your spine, right down to where Satoru held a firm grip on your hip. You two waltz around the edge of the dance floor, perfectly in time. Through the crowd of grumbling lords, the orchestra, past the table of foods.

“And exactly how long would the rest of our lives be, Satoru?”

Slowing right in front of that huge, reflective wall.

You couldn’t see his eyes, but his biting gaze was all you could feel.

Lingering on the blue pendant nestled at your chest, the everlasting wild rose tucked behind your ear, the mirror to your right - where the twin image of you shone. Powerful, gorgeous, everything that a monster like him could never have because he wasn’t standing there right next to you. His kind never could.

In the back of your mind, you registered collective gasps sounding all around you - the rest of the ball attendees that’d also taken note of the lack of Satoru’s reflection. But your eyes stay locked on him.

A thumb hooks under his blindfold, and he grimaces. “You really were onto me, huh, flower?”

Tugging.

Your fingers tighten around his, unable to let the most fearsome of creatures escape from your grasp. “You must’ve been onto me, too, Satoru.”

Pulling.

All you see is a flash of a regal nose bridge, and the flutter of thick white lashes - before every single chandelier in the ballroom snuffs out at once. Cloaking the room in unnatural darkness, it sends every single knight and noble into a frenzy.

And then, he opens his eyes.

“IT’S HIM-”

“A body! A BODY FOUND IN THE ROYAL GUEST SUITE–

“VAMPIRE! STAY BACK-“

Oh, it’s blue.

That crystal blue.

And then it’s black.

---

SLAM!

“If you must kill me.” Satoru’s voice sounds from somewhere above you. You blink away the darkness, feeling your bleary gaze try and adjust to that unfamiliar high ceiling, the outlines of hauntingly beautiful paintings on it. His ragged breaths cut through your thoughts once more, hastily folding your hand to grip your pendant. “If you must kill me, then I prefer you do it with your own hands, princess.”

You can’t tell whose hand is trembling more - yours or his. Distantly, you realize you’re being pushed up against a luxuriously padded wall, one you’d never seen before in your life.

Where were you?

“The Gojo palace- Please-” he reads your mind, voice breaking at the end of his plea. Gasping - and you can discern two elongated teeth at his canines. Fangs, you realize with a shiver. “You may leave if you want to, you may kill me for what I’ve done. My life is in your hands.”

“Satoru.” you soothe in a hushed voice, despite the way your head was reeling. The Gojo palace? “I won’t kill you.”

“But-”

“Satoru, what does this necklace mean?” You beg, and at this point, you’re not surprised that the necklace is from him - because it was an exact replica of the two burning eyes staring back at you. The only source of light right now, glowing a blue you’d finally found after a lifetime. “Why did you-” you gulp, heart lurching. “Why did you hand me your…life?”

Soft lips play right over your rapid pulse, murmuring into your skin, “S’my soul.” A long, pale index of his plays with the pendant. “The only part of my soul that’s living, gilded into a necklace to be kept in the safest place I know. You.”

“But-” you cry out, trying to get another look at his eyes - but your fiancé only kisses deeper at your neck. Nibbling at the thundering beat just below. “But why did you give it to me?”

“Who else would I give it to, if not for my mate?”

Mates - there were a thousand and one books and official documents detailing everything from a vampire’s killing pattern to the aphrodisiac toxins found in their blood. But the research on a vampire’s mate was far and few between.

Perhaps owing to the lack of willing mates that can come out without persecution, or perhaps due to the vampires’ intense rumored mating rituals. But it didn’t go without its own gossip, you were no stranger to the ladies of the court tittering about how morbidly “romantic” it was that mates were akin to soulmates - how it was an invisible string connecting two people to share a life, a soul.

A vampire’s one and only mate.

Satoru was pinning you harder to the wall now, his pink tongue darting out to lick over your pulse. The fingers holding onto the necklace were now tilting your chin up at him, “Speak to me, flower.”

“I’m your mate?” you whimper, your lips ghosting over his. Already knowing the answer, but fuck you needed to hear it from him. “What does that mean exactly?”

He lets out a pained grunt, pressing his forehead gently against yours. “It means you’re the other half of my soul. My only one, I was born for you.” Pressing a chaste peck on there - and you swear you could feel the nip of two sharp canines against your skin. “The one I’ll fight heaven and hell for, until the very last beat of my cold, dead heart.” Your fingers curl at his shoulders when his mouth moves to the shell of your ear. “The one I’ll kill for, take out every measly scum that thinks they can get with my mate.”

He huffs out a burst of cold laughter when your breath hitches, probably reading over the thoughts running through your mind - Satoru killed them. The guards, Kashimo, Naoya- fuck, maybe even Sukuna. He killed them. He killed them. He killed them. He killed them.

You shiver, “A-and all the wind? The whispers? I thought it was just you these past week b-but- All my life, that was you?”

You know. You knew.

Another kiss - this time to the corner of your eye, and Satoru licks a long, content stripe up the big fat tears unwillingly welling up behind your eyes. He groans at the salty taste of you, taking in a long, drawn-out breath. “Yes.”

All it takes is that single word for your entire body to collapse, thankfully onto an awaiting Satoru. He holds your entire body weight with one hand around your waist, the other coming up to swipe his thumb under those tears rolling down your cheeks now.

He kisses your cheek, “All your life.” The corner of your lips, “And all of mine.”

Run away run away run away run away-

But you can’t - you don’t want to.

Your lips wobble when he nuzzles down your face, leaving a trail of hot kisses with his cold, cold mouth. “As soon as I learned to use my powers - was just a brat you see - I just had to see my mate. To smell her scent.” He’s inhaling deeply again, hands groping over your engagement gown. “Lo and behold, there was you. A cute lil’ princess around my age, tuckered out and fast asleep.” Lingering at your jaw, the hand tight around your waist pulls you painfully closer. Satoru’s knee wedging itself between your trembling thighs, “Imagine my surprise when she took one look at me and cried. Scared me enough to teleport outta there as soon as you opened that smart mouth, flower.”

And the thought of Satoru - tiny and determined - teleporting halfway across the land only to be yelled at by you has you huffing out a shock of laughter.

“So when I heard through the grapevine about your potential engagement, fuck- I couldn’t have ran out of this palace faster. Was so excited I fuckin’ forgot to teleport, too. Even if you were afraid of the ‘cruel Northern king.’”

Fuck - that’s right. He must’ve heard your thoughts that time you met him in the library.

Satoru’s tone drops to a low simper, so close now that you could feel every slight curve of his grin. Every twitch of his fingers sweeping up and down your exposed skin, feeling the delicious thrum of your veins. He could bite you right now - easily. “And luckily, as I grew up, so did my ability to blend in with the darkness.” Eyes boring into yours, something so vulnerable in them now. “But you found me, you always did.”

“Satoru.” you angle your head upwards. “Kiss me.”

And how could he ever deny you?

You wince at the slight pinch of Satoru’s teeth - his fangs - as he crashes his lips into yours in a greedy kiss. Sliding his tongue over to taste those candied lips he’s been dreaming of for years.

“Fuck-” he breathes out through his nose, jaw sagging open further to kiss you deeper. “Fuck, princess.”

Strong arms pin you harder against the wall, and you’re blindly reaching out to reciprocate even a fraction of Satoru’s neediness. Just dragging your hips up and down his muscled thighs. Sinful.

Shit, it was so endearing to him seeing you struggle to touch him this way. And with a flick of a wrist, the candle chandeliers hung high above your heads are lighting up at once. “S’that better, flower?”

It takes every bit of will in you to manage to pull away, yet the thought of seeing Satoru - of really seeing Satoru is what spurs you to break the kiss. Delicate strings of saturated spit snapping in the non-existent air between you two, you take a long look at your new husband.

Fuck, he was so pretty.

You always knew he was.

But even with his face tilted downwards, within the soft light tinting those snowy strands a sunset yellow - you could make out the pretty pink flush all the way from his glossy, ravaged lips, up, up, up to his delicate cheeks - he looked like the last thing from a monster.

“No you’re pretty.” he hums, and you’re still not used to him reading your mind. Head nodding downwards, “Just look, grinding on my thigh like such a slut.”

What met you was a dark pool of slick saturating his trousers, just peeking out over the hem of your dress. It makes you give another lingering, experimental grind.

“Satoru—” you’re letting out a honeyed drag of his name, reveling in the way it makes him swallow heavily. “You can hear my thoughts, right?” Look at me.

Slowly - but surely - familiar blue meets yours. Half-lidded, pupils blown, and if you didn’t know any better you’d have said there were tiny sparks of lightning at the corners of his long white lashes.

You’ve been haunting me my whole life, Toru.

And it was an accident - it really was, your freshly kissed brain too hazy to slur out Satoru’s full name. But the impromptu little nickname has him dragging forwards like he was magnetized.

A low growl escaping when he’s kissing you again. And again. And again and again and-

“Say it-” Two hands are tugging at those tedious ribbons tying your decadent gown together. Pulling. “Say it again f’me.” Ripping.

The more his lips are assaulting yours, the more the dress slips further and further down your shoulders. Tattered. The soft satin leaving goosebumps down your spine as it reveals your neckline - all that skin for him to ruin. To mark.

“Oh-” you’re squealing when one of Satoru’s fangs prick a bit too hard at your lip. Feeling a hot flow of crimson bleed out, the feeling has you so weak. So drunk. “Quite eager, aren’t ya?”

“You have no idea.” he groans again. Soft tongue moving from swirling around your own to lazily pool your blood on it. And you can’t imagine what about the metallic taste would be so euphoric, but he’s letting out his loudest drag of your name yet. Eyes rolling to the back of his head like he’s just tasted a personal slice of heaven. “Fuck- fuck you have no idea.”

You moan into the kiss when he bites down again on your already-bruised lower lip, “I’ve always wanted to do this-” Slow, slow hands kneading up your waist, at a dizzying tempo matching his mouth down your jaw, your neck. Hips bucking, you feel the outline of something so hard between his legs. “-to kiss you. To-” Tethering on the sensitive area of your pulse, “-bite.”

In a split-second, you’re sinking down into plush silk sheets, swallowing you whole in a king-sized bed you didn’t even realize was in the room before.

“S-Satoru, did you teleport us again?” you gasp, eyes adjusting to the intricate paintings on the ceiling that you hadn’t gotten to admire before. Of white-haired youths and roses, of cold, dark palaces and- and you.

You - when you were younger, sleeping peacefully while a little boy watches intrigued from the corner. You - passed out in the library after a long night of reading, two pale hands wrapping a blanket around your shoulders. You - your brows furrowed, head cocked while you pushed past nobles to search for that flash of his blue. You, you, you.

You.

“I can hear the gears in that pretty head turning.” Satoru grins, still kissing you in a languid graze of lips. “And as much as I love it when you hah- admire my lonely paintings, I’d rather you pay attention to-” A low groan curdles at the back of his throat when he’s grinding his massive clothed erection against the syrupy spot at your core. “-me.”

There’s a dark little huff of laughter and with one last bite at the side of your neck, Satoru’s unapologetically tearing right through the middle of your gown.

And you know it’s made with the finest fabrics the country has to offer, you know that no normal man should be able to even rip a tiny shred through your dress - but Satoru is no ordinary man.

Your spike of disappointment is quickly overshadowed by cold breath hovering over your exposed tits. “Oh, so perfect f’me.” he’s groaning, deep and primal. Biting down on your hardened nipple, “Ya think those uptight elders your court has- ah, had would appreciate me desecrating their precious princess before marriage?”

Through gasps, you peek down at his wicked tongue, swirling around the sensitive spots of your areola. “Who- who gives a shit.”

“So feisty.” The peaks of your tits are left coated in him as Satoru pulls away. “So addictive.” Pinching your soft flesh between his teeth - just hard enough that you worry he’s out to draw blood again. “So- so-”

Words are failing Satoru’s sharp mouth as he kisses his way down your body. The valley of your chest, your stomach, your hips.

Down, down, down-

“Fuck, Satoru-” you’re hissing when he easily pulls the pathetic remains of your dress off and onto the floor. The rest of your inner skirts easily following afterwards. “Are you gonna…”

“M’afraid not.” he licks sloppy circles at the skin of your thighs. Tasting, nipping, leaving little marks with his fangs for later. Sloppily soothing his tongue over the tiny droplets of blood beading from the bites, he murmurs stubbornly, “Not until you address me correctly.”

Hesitantly, you reach out a limp hand to thread through his dampening white tresses. Tugging softly to lock those devouring blue eyes with yours, “Please, Toru?”

You get absolutely no warning when he kisses right through that flimsy excuse of your drenched panties to slide his tongue up and down your sopping wet slit. Up and down up and down up and-

“Sh-shit, Toru-” you moan when he’s just dipping the very tip barely past your puffy folds. The fabric of your underwear still sticking to you, “Stop being such a tease, goddammit ngh-”

“Why?” Of course, he toys with your patience even now, addicted to those needy whines falling from your lips. “I jus’ wanna play with my princess’s pretty pussy. What am I getting out of it?”

You smirk, not even having to move your pretty mouth to know you had him in the palm of your hand already. I’d be your mate for life.

It’s all you can do to watch with satisfaction as the great Gojo Satoru gasps - gasps. Slick-glossed lips falling into a soft oh! Hazy eyes widening almost-comically, and at full heady attention while he takes a few seconds to mull over your words.

RIP!

In an instant, your soaked underwear is ripped clean off to bare your dripping cunt for him, wrapped tightly around Satoru’s fingers and disappearing down below to where your imagination couldn’t handle.

“Oh, such a pretty pussy.” he coos, thumbing apart your puffy folds to admire your lewdly winking cunt. Glistening and so so needy, you jolt when he bullies two long fingers past your sloppy entrance. With your greedy hole swallowing every slender inch of Satoru’s fingers easily, “So needy too. This all f’me?”

As if to prove his point, his pink lips wrap around your throbbing clit, grinding his tongue over the ravaged tip. The harsh texture of his tastebuds rolling over every inch of you he could reach.

“Y-yes-” you squeal, hips bucking down mindlessly to try and match his relentless tempo. “S’only for you.”

“Tha’s what I love to hear-” Satoru’s cheeks hollow when he sucks on your sensitive little nub - hard. “Sweeter than I even imagined, shit-”

Every pump of his merciless fingers in and out of your cunt drags along your gummy walls. Deftly curling to prey at those hidden sweet spots of yours he just knew would wrench out such throaty moans from you - and fuck, Satoru thinks- no, he knows that the sound is is favorite song.

“You’re makin’ me- hah making me fall in love all over again.” he gruffs out into your cunt. The pads of his fingers pressing into the cushiony ends of your pussy. “Because look how messy you are- how loud.”

You didn’t know if he had mind-control powers on top of mind-reading, because it’s as if you’re on auto-pilot when your lolling head is whirling down to look at the absolute sin made of you below. Satoru - running his mouth a mile a minute to send white-hot vibrations along your clit. His milky fingers buried knuckle-deep to stretch out your poor cunt. Your sweet sweet juices drooling all over them in such an obscene sheen down his palm, his wrist.

He whines, “Makin’ me wanna-” You jolt when he’s biting down so dangerously around your clit. “Wanna-”

Satoru doesn’t end up finishing his sentence - and he doesn’t have to.

Because he’s pausing his make-out with your clit to spit once. Twice. A thick thumb swiping at the intentional splatter of saliva marking your skin, before surging forwards even deeper - you didn’t even think that was possible. But Satoru has the tip of his nose rubbing methodical circles against your clit, jaw grinding at the base of your pussy, tongue flattening out your pussy lips.

Messy. Harsh.

“Oh- oh my god, Toru-” you’re keening at the feeling of his wet muscle trying to squeeze in past the fingers still continuing their assault on your entrance. “It- it won’t fit–”

“Shhh shhh, s’okay, princess.” he hushes, letting another round glob of spit wet your clingy pussy. “You can take it. You will - otherwise how are you gonna take your husband, hm?”

That little comment has connotations that make your plushy walls clamp down vice-like around his fingers - his tongue. And you’re angling your head just right, blinking away the lustful haze in your eyes to spy down at the rapid, jerky movements of his other hand. Devouring gaze dropping down to-

Oh.

Oh fuck.

It was difficult to even look at the sight below - your panties, soaked and completely see-through with slick and precum, wrapped prettily around what you could make out to be Satoru’s aching cock. Standing proud, twitching wildly with every drag of his fist up and down his glistening length.

“Fuck-” he groans, taking the opportunity to devilishly slip his tongue past your feeble entrance. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck- y’like this, huh?” Drawled out little praises now muffled as he fucks you on his tongue the way he wished he could with his cock. In and out in and out in and out. Pulling back to eye your gaping hole, “I can feel y’getting wetter for me is it because-” Before surging back forwards, as if he’s addicted. “Because-” Again.“Fuck don’t clench around me that way. Was hard enough trying not to fuck you stupid right there in the middle of the ballroom.”

You whine, tears flowing down freely at the sheer pleasure at this point. “Y-you-” you gasp, your five fingers splaying out over Satoru’s head. Pushing even harsher, “You hngh- talk too much- m’so close-”

Partially because you really needed those pretty lips back at your heated core, partially because every word tumbling from his mouth had you throbbing embarrassingly, your slick spreading a glossy sheen on the sheets underneath you.

“Oh yeah? Heh, anything for you, flower.” Satoru grins such a sly, sultry grin and you feel it against one set of your swollen lips. “Absolutely anything.”

In and out in and out. He has his brows furrowed now, concentrated on having every flick and divot of movement pushing you closer and closer towards the edge. Faster. Sloppier. You have half the mind to wonder whether it didn’t hurt - whether Satoru’s tongue wasn’t cramping up from how fast he was going, whether his fingers weren’t tired already.

Out of the corner of your spotty vision, you can see those stuttering squeezes of Satoru’s hand speed up. Trying desperately to match each bullying push of his tongue and his fingers into your overstuffed pussy.

The thought makes you whine, “Oh my god- Toru, m’gonna cum.” And shit, at this point it’s too much. You couldn’t think - you couldn’t even breathe. “M’so close please.” Barely able to even register anything but Satoru Satoru Satoru-

It’s why you don’t even realize at first when you’re finally cumming - Satoru does, though. He feels it in the way your heavenly walls are closing down on his fingers, clenching around him so tight that it was almost difficult to fuck you through your orgasm. Waves of electric pleasure crashing into you and you think you’re drowning.

“Tha’s it.” he rasps. “Cum f’me like that, tha’s it- thaaat’s it, such a good lil’ wife- a perfect mate.”

The fingers stuffed deep inside your pussy are being pulled out in a flash - not letting you waste a moment of your heady high before he’s toying ravenously with your swollen clit. Pinching, and rolling between two soft fingers.

“O-oh fuck, m’-cumming? M’cumming m’cumming-” you moan deliriously, mind just now catching up. Your hips drag your sloppy pussy all over Satoru’s pretty face. Just drenching his noble features with your gushing mess. “Feels too ah- good, Toru.”

And he takes it like it’s everything he needs - everything he’s ever wanted.

Jaw falling slack to let your juices slide down his throat, tongue lolling out flick your spasming cunt through your high. Unstopping. Unwavering.

Even when your vision stops tingeing with black at the edges, even when you think you’re sane enough to form a coherent thought. Even when your climax is bating enough that every flick of Satoru’s tongue only sends almost painful thrums of pleasure down your spine.

“W-wait m’done-” you sob, tasting the salty stream of tears splashing down your face now. “S’too sensitive- ngh-”

When he doesn’t show any signs of stopping anytime soon, you try again - this time thinking the embarrassing thought out loud. I…I really want you inside me now, Toru. Please?

And he pauses - jolting, as if some dark, primal part of him had just been called back to life. Tongue still hot on your cunt, fist still greedy around his rock-hard shaft.

“F-fuck you’re gonna be the death of me, flower.”

And before, you couldn’t get enough of those striking blue eyes, but now you couldn’t escape them.

With inhuman speed, he’s shuffling up the soaked sheets. “An absolute fuckin-” Slick-glossed lips meet yours, smearing along the combination of juices till the lower half of your face was as dripping wet as Satoru’s. “-minx, y’know that?”

“Wh-what can I say?” you tilt your head with a smirk, lips a bit too loose than you’d like - but it didn’t matter anyway, he was in your thoughts. Your mind. “I’m your mate, after all.”

He falls back onto his knees at that sinful little sentence of yours, throwing his head back in a guttural groan. “Fuck- you’re mine alright. See what you hah- do to me? See how this is all your fault?”

If Satoru expected an answer, then he doesn’t receive it. Because every snippy little retort on the tip of your tongue melts when you get a long, hard look at the angry shaft in his hand. So red and angry. Thick enough that you felt your cunt quiver already.

Delicate with prominent veins that glistened and throbbed down his long, long length with each slew of his vigorous fist. And his tip- fuck, blushed your favorite shade of weepy pink, slobbering a sheen of precum all down his wrist, his tufts of cloudy white.

And you realize with a jolt that he still had your panties wrapped around him - looking so tiny around Satoru’s massive cock.

Wordlessly, your hand replaces his.

“W-woah- fuck-” His toned waist flexes with the effort to fuck up into the soft cushion of your palm. “How the- ngh how the fuck does your fuckin’ hand feel this good?”

“You’re so big- fuck, don’t know how I’d- Wait you never imagined this?” you bat your eyes up with faux innocence. A thumb gliding over that deep divot on the very tip of his fat head. “Because I sure have, Toru.”

Satoru’s heavy balls smack against your arm when he shuffles down his pants even further, now fully letting you go ahead with your agonizing torture. “Shit-” he yelps, eyes screwing shut at the image. “Don’t- don’t say that, holy shit.”

You toy with your scrap of panties, massaging every ridge and curve with it. Just dragging your hand up and down. “Would you rather I think it instead?”

Within milliseconds, two sharp fangs are poised right above your rapid pulse, a hand around your throat. “No- no no no no-” Satoru gasps, sounding like he was at the end of his rope. And it takes him a few blinks to realize his position, immediately moving his lips up to nip at your jaw. “Fuckin’ no.” Hard enough that another red pearl of blood drips out, instantly being sucked up greedily by your fiancé. “Gonna make me lose it before I-I ngh-”

With a pained growl, he suddenly has you sitting so prettily on his muscular lap. Your legs splayed out like such a slut, needy cunt slobbering all over where you were sat right on his demanding erection.

By the time you’re realizing your helpless position, it’s too late - and Satoru’s already shrugging off the rest of his pants. Buttons hitting the floor when he just tears his flowing dress shirt off.

“Sh-show off.” you breathe, hands mapping out every dip and curve of the plane of defined muscles displayed before you. So mouthwatering.

“Can tell that you- ngh think m’mouthwatering, flower.” he grins. One hand kneading and groping the flesh of your ass to steady your drooling cunt to kiss at his thick tip. The other keeping one of your palms stuck to his washboard abs, up, up, up to press at his sculpted left pec. “N’ I know m’heart’s not beating, but I’m much the same. Very- much the- same.”

And Satoru’s spent years waiting, yearning - so he doesn’t waste even a second more when stuffing his cock inside your snug cunt.

“O-oh. Satoru- Satoru please oh-”

The stretch - fuck, the stretch. The stretch is so much that it feels like you’re being split apart. Just the bare tip of his fat cock being bullied in short, determined half-thrusts.

And it takes only one, lucky collision into the bullseye of your g-spot and you’re already falling apart.

“Wait- wait wait wait m’gonna-” you gasp, your nails running down his broad, milky back in jagged red lines when you’re cumming once more. Toes curling, hips convulsing wildly on top of a smug Satoru. “Oh my god, ngh- what’ve you done to me, Toru?”

“Now, let me ngh- let me tell you a little secret, hah- princess.” His hand comes up to cup your jaw, gifting a sweet kiss on your swollen lips. “The best thing about mates?” Sharp fangs catch onto your delicate skin, “They feel sex on a whole other level.”

And then he’s bringing down both hands to spread apart the globes of your ass. Your puffy folds are stretched to their limits when he thrusts up once. Muscled thighs flexing underneath yours. Harsh.

Ignoring your pleading keens and the slight resistance at the intrusion of his intimidating size, “Hold on, princess- hold- fuuuuck.” Lips latch onto yours, drinking up every heady whine when your poor cunt is being fed every inch by fucking inch. “You’re taking me so well.”

And that you were - your pussy lips bulging and struggling to accommodate Satoru’s monstrous size, but still taking him in so greedily.

“There we go.” he grunts out, punctuated with heavy rams of hips. Up, up, up until you could feel Satoru’s sobbing tip graze against your cervix - your lungs. “Theeere we fuckin’-” Pushing and pushing until there was no more, until your neglected clit was scratching against his snowy pubic hair. Ass coming to rest at his twitching balls. “-go.”

“You’re in so deep-” you’re blabbering, cockdrunk already. The last few dredges of your high still not wearing off, it takes you a few seconds of Satoru still trying to squeeze his cock even deeper to manage to raise a hand about midway up your stomach. Feeling for that vertical bulge that was him, “-can feel you right here.”

“Oh yeah?”

And like he was testing your theory, Satoru fucks up into your gummy hole in another bullying slam. Watching in wonder at the way that little divot in your stomach crashes around the same spongy cervix he was.

“Fuck- you’re right.” he hisses. Addicted now. Immediately rocking into you with reeling, long rolls of his hips. “You’re so- fuckin’ right.”

You can’t find the energy in yourself to even yelp in surprise when Satoru immediately changes your positions so that you’re now laying fucked-out on the mattress. His domineering hips pinning you down to use you like some little cocksleeve.

“God-” he pants into your open mouth, tongue swirling with your weighty one. “God- fuck fuck fuck if heaven is real then this is it.” Each little profanity is decorated with a smoldering crash of his tip into your sweet spot. “You’re the heaven I don’t ngh- deserve, flower.”

That neat bitemark on your thigh is being jostled with the amount of ragged movement, and you wince with pain when it starts flowing again.

“Oh- oh.”

Satoru’s like a predator that has cornered his prey, and is spending hours tediously unraveling every single bit of you.

Sliding two smooth palms underneath your legs, they’re urgently thrown over his large shoulders to fold you down, down, down into the meanest mating press you think you could handle - handle without fucking breaking, that is.

“So good t’me.” he breathes, long tongue easily licking up that sweet nectar of your blood. “Y’know your cute lil’ brain s’too scrambled to even read right now.”

“H-how can I think when you’re ah! Like- like this, Toru?”

The sudden change in angle makes you scream. It makes you clamor for the headboard, the sheets, your husband when that obscenely perfect upwards curve of his dick is massaging every nook and cranny of your cunt.

“Yeah? Feels good? Now now- don’t run- away” he’s dragging you down those drenched sheets by the legs like some ragdoll, stuffing you more and more with his painful cock. Fucking you so relentless, like he was trying to worship every little hidden sweet spot inside your dripping cunt. “Say it- no no no, not in your head. Say it.”

And you do - a little over fifteen times when his thick hilt pecks your pussy lips over and over with each thrust when Satoru bottoms out, hitting all the way into the back of your cunt - your cervix, your g-spot - like he couldn’t decide which one to bruise more.

“S’too good-” you’re gasping. Your overstimulated pussy being molded like clay to the girthy shaft kissing down your cunt. Stretching out your elastic walls until you could almost feel them take shape to his swollen cock. Feel every sensitive spot inside you being overstimulated at once with every burning massage against them. “You’re fuckin’ me way too- too good- ngh- can’t even think.”

But that wasn’t enough for him.

Dipping a thumb down to circle around your clit, white-hot pleasure shoots up your spine when he lets out a deep rumble, “Think I fell in love with you when I- fuck, right then and there when I first- hah saw you all those years back.” speeding up with the sloppy staccato of his rude cock. Satoru’s words slurring now, messed up and half-prepared like the accelerating half-thrusts being bestowed upon your ravaged cunt. Like he couldn’t bear to pull out completely. “The first time you saw me, you were so afraid. Look at you- fuck, jus’ look at you now, princess.”

Each word is like a brand onto your sticky skin, accompanied by harsh smacks of Satoru’s balls against your ass, his sharp hip bones digging into your thighs. Him.

“Toru–” is all you can manage to whine out, a limp hand pulling his face closer to yours. You’re jumping with each swipe at your poor clit. “Toru m’here.”

“And- and yet-” he’s still blabbering, still pussydrunk while he fucks you so menacingly. Fingers sopping wet with their assault on your sensitive nub, “And yet I just- fuck-” He cuts himself off to give your messy hole another thick stream of spit. Coating his long, raw shaft - rubbed red with the way your gripping walls were massaging him so right - making it easier to slide in and out. “And yet, I just had to see you, to see the gorgeous mate I don’t deserve. I couldn’t live without you.”

A single overstimulated tear glistens a track down Satoru’s pretty face - one you kiss away as quickly as it appeared. Nudging open those teary, blue gaze to bore down on you.

Oh, he looked an absolute wreck - white hair mussed up, stray strands sticking to his forehead. Glossy lips parted, drool pooling at the corner, broken grunts leaving him with each smash of his tip back into your cunt. So blissed out.

Jolting at your eyes on him, Satoru feels his balls tighten so painfully. Abs burning when his pace stutters with need.

“You’re haunting me, just as much as I was haunting you, Toru.”

The candles go out. Instantly.

And shit you’re feeling it first when when hé’s cumming and cumming so hard that it almost hurts. Flashes of white startling behind his closed, glassy eyes. “Shit- shit shit shit shit-” Hairs on your body raising as Satoru’s fingers draw circles on your clit so aggressively. Dragging out your high. Forcing it. “Take it- take it all, my flower. Let me paint this pretty pussy all white.” Violent, almost.

So, really, it makes sense that your third orgasm of the night was the same.

Just shivering, sinful tingles running from your overstimulated mind right down to where Satoru was stuffing thick white ropes of potent seed deeper and deeper down your tight channel.

Overspilling with each calculated ram, his cum is oozing out of the corners of your puffy lips with each furious clench of his balls. Too much.

And it’s all you can do to sit there and take it, feeling the sloppy dredges of cum make a mess slobbering down your thighs and his. Starting up blearily at the blurry paintings on the ceilings. The paintings of you - of a still Satoru that looked down at you with only half as much intensity and pure swirling emotion as he was right now.

Something that couldn’t be painted - but would make such a pretty picture, when his fangs bite into that racing junction at your neck.

You scream a soundless scream of his name, eyes rolling to the back of your head as something warm fills your entire body.

Leaving your words unheard, your ravaged hole loose to let out slobbering squelches of Satoru’s cum. Blood racing and flowing right into Satoru’s greedy mouth.

“Princess-” he gulps. Tongue licking up every crimson bead his crazed eyes could spot, body aching when he dares pull away from that heavenly taste. More. “Princess princess princess- you- hngh you’re mine. All mine now.”

And he’s letting out more thick globs of cum straight into your waiting cunt. Body bowing even harder to let it seep into your elastic walls, your womb. So much more than you can take and he just keeps giving.

It seems like forever when Satoru finally pulls away - and within the glowing blue of his eyes, you can see the red staining his lips, dripping down those fangs, his chin. Staining the silk sheets below - staining you with so much more.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching up to catch his lips in a bloodied kiss. Your own elongated canines catching amateurishly on his lips.

Satoru hisses - but he likes it. And you can tell.

You can read every single hypnotizing thought whirling behind those crystal blue eyes - how he wants to ravish you again, how he wants to worship you. To make you his all over, to have you make him yours. The thought makes you smile as you whisper, “I’m onto you, Toru.”

“You’re onto me, flower.” Catching your lips in a sweet, sweet red kiss. “Forever.”

A/N. This was SOOO fun to write omg y’all have no idea. If you made it this far then you get a sloppy smooch from me mwahhhh.

Plagiarism of work not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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iam-anordinary-human-orami · 6 months ago

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I really want a scene like this in tsc2 where Neil seems to call Jean more often to check up on him and the floozies are perplexed "Why is Josten calling you?" "You guys close or sth?" "You still haven't told us what happened when he whisked you away" "we are worried sick Jean, how can you keep us in the dark?" And then Cat will say sth like "are you not sharing what you're talking to Josten about cause you're embarrassed?" Jeremy being a worried mother hen "is he bothering you?" And Jean keeps shutting everything down telling them not to worry, and then Laila as a joke says "is he flirting with you?"

And Jean responds with "I hope not. I don't think his boyfriend would take it well"

Everyone immediately stops what they are doing. "Im sorry, his WHAT?"

All hell breaks lose. Cat is shaking Laila "Josten is FRUITY?!", Jeremy is like "He has a boyfriend?" Laila being like "in the year that he joined the foxes and almost died in the hands of his serial killer dad, he got a boyfriend??? How???" And then Cat and Laila start asking questions, Jeremy trying to calm them down but also being curious, Jean is like "Well he's not told me explicitly, but it's obvious."

Jeremy having an epiphany "oh my god. Is it Kevin?" Cat in the background "oh please let it be Kevin" Jean says no, "Kevin is too much of a coward", the floozies are looking at each other like "oh we are definitely unpacking THAT at some point". And then they're like okay, well maybe the boyfriend is not on the team. But Jean confirms, it's a fox, i can tell u who it is-' "NO! We need to figure this one out!" "Let our gaydar do the work Jean we got things to prove!" Jean tiredly: "to who?"

So they start guessing, oh Hemmick is undeniably fruity, Jean is like "I don't even know who that is. Oh, backliner? No, not him". "Maybe it's Boyd?!" Cat being like "Escandalo! Cause he's with the captain right? Wilds?" Laila commenting "He'd be out of his mind to pass on that, and this is the educated opinion of a lesbian", Jean is like "how come u guys know all their names?" Jeremy says "they are a small team and it's hard not to keep tabs on them when they are in the news cycle every week or so"

"Guys we're losing track, keep your heads locked in! Who could be Josten's boyfriend, that tonight's pressing question!" "But there's no one else... wait, is he with the other backliner? Short blonde?" "I'm gonna be honest, I don't get queer vibes from him" "Lol can u imagine it's actually the goalkeeper twin" "what the one that went to juvie and looks like hes one step away from biting our heads off on the court? Nahh". Jean looks at an invisible camera like he's in the office.

And then something happens and they forget about it, until like the winter banquet or some shit and Cat is intently looking at Neil trying to decipher who his boyfriend could be, maybe he is in a throuple with Wilds and Boyd? Jean is like "Why are you looking at the foxes' table so intently?" "It's investigative work, don't worry about it" and then Neil comes over and takes Jean away at the open bar to talk about sth, the floozies are pretending to not be looking at them. Neil notices and he's like "I see they taken claim already." Jean responds with "It's not what u think" and they talk, Andrew probably gets bored at some point and goes to Neil, puts a single hand on his lower back and Jean being able to hear commotion in the Trojans table turns to see them acting like "normal", except their poses look rehearsed, there's drinks that have been spilled on the table and Cat is drinking from an empty glass looking at the sky.

#aftg #all for the game #just a silly one #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #the sunshine court #jean moreau #tsc #laila dermott #catalina alvarez #jeremy knox #the trojans #the foxes #the golden raven #tsc2 #tgr

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salthusiast · 2 months ago

Text

Who you truly are

Viltrumite Mark x Female Reader

Summary: When the Invincible variants arrived on Earth, you never expected to get involved. It’s not like you knew Invincible personally. What you didn’t know was that you’d ended up housing one of these variants, and you didn’t know for weeks. Basically Viltrumite Mark pretends to be the Mark you know.

Word Count: 5.1k

Next parts: 2 , 3

Warnings: None! Maybe some violence, but if you watched the show, it’s basically nothing. Maybe slight ooc? In my defense this guy is pretending to be another person though.

Quick A/N: Hey, this is actually my first post on Tumblr so sorry if the formatting is weird or anything. Let me know if you guys want a part 2 :D

Life was so much simpler when you didn’t know. Who knew that in a singular month, your life would change so much? You could lie and say that you expected it to happen, but again that'd be a lie. Hell, even now you can barely believe the course of events that went down.

Sometimes you think about how many others got hurt during the war and its aftermath. You were so oblivious. You think about how he spared you like he did.

--------------------------

“Mark! Eve!” You call out, waving your hand to your friends across the hallway. Mark stops in his tracks, along with Eve.

Mark is more of your friend than Eve is, but you get along with her well. You walk purposefully to Mark, feeling like he may disappear if you take too long to get to him. It seems like he disappears all the time now.

“I haven’t seen you recently. Where have you been?” You approach him smiling.

Mark shares an indecipherable look with Eve, and chuckles awkwardly, “Around… You know, I’ve been busy with… stuff.” He says gesturing to his backpack. You raise an eyebrow seeing his backpack filled with books.

“Studying? You? My, we really haven’t talked in a while. The last time we all hung out, you bailed halfway through.” You smile teasingly, not truly mad, but more concerned than anything.

He grimaces, “I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just been so hectic lately.” He looks over at Eve once again, she seems to empathize with whatever Mark is going through. You can’t help but feel… insignificant.

Mark was once one of your closest friends. What happened for them to grow so close? You can’t even bring yourself to be mad, Eve seems to understand him way more than you ever could.

Perhaps at one point, you would have felt different about that truth, but Mark as your friend is more important.

“Woah!” You chuckle, “It’s okay, really. I just want to make sure you aren’t, ya know, dead.” You smile, jokingly gesturing to your neck as if it was slit. He smiles and shakes his head, “Nope! Still kicking. I’ll be around for a while.” He glances at Eve, who seems to find what he said extra funny.

You laugh, “Yeah huh... Hey, I was wondering if you’d wanna hang out with us sometime soon. You, William, me, maybe one of my friends? Serena perhaps?” You raise a finger for each person you talk about. “Eve is free to join us too of course.” You smile at her, which she returns in good nature.

Mark nods, “Yeah, I’ll make time for it. It’s been a minute since we’ve all hung out. Eve, would you wanna join?” Mark asks, turning to Eve.

“Sure. It’s been a while since we’ve all hung out as a group. I look forward to it.” She smiles at you. “I should be busy for a bit, but I’ll let you know when I’m free.”

You smile, “Great! That works for me!” You start to walk off before you stop abruptly and turn around. “You know we’re always here right?” You look at Mark and glance at Eve. He smiles back, but it looks more like a grimace.

”Of course.” Suddenly he stands up straight. “Oh shoot I gotta go.” He announces before looking at Eve silently expressing… something?

“No worries, see you guys…” They’re already speeding off to who knows where. They certainly have a mission in mind. They weren’t that rushed five minutes ago. Could whatever Mark forgot be that important?

(You didn’t know it at the time, but the reason he left was actually important. You later found out the reason on TV, even if you weren't aware it was him under the suit.)

“Hey, did you see what happened on the news?” Your friend, Serena, asks you later that day back in your apartment. She would often come over after classes to hang out.

You raise an eyebrow shaking your head, “No? Why? Anything interesting?” You sit down on the couch, leaning your head on the back as you respond.

“Somebody was trying to get Invincible’s attention earlier. He was talking for ages. Was claiming that he was the one who killed all those people in Chicago. I don’t know, he definitely has some issues he needs to sort out.” She waves a hand dismissively.

That catches your attention, “Really that happened today? How’d I miss that? Wait, he was mad that Invincible ‘killed those people,’ but he is trying to kill people to get his attention?” You ask, doing air quotes as you say “killed those people.”

“I’m not sure, it mainly just seemed like he wanted Invincible. I don’t know, I stopped questioning these villains a while ago. I only know the bare details.” She sighs.

You nod in agreement, “Fair enough.” You search for the remote and find it between the couch before turning on the TV. Perhaps this story is on the news?

“ . . . just in! The newest villain, going by the name “Powerplex” has been arrested. Invincible was there to stop him this time, but that did not come without a cost. There were two casualties during this specific attack by him, not even counting his other attacks during this week. The casualties of this attack were his wife and child, who were electrocuted to death. It appears he took them hostage to get Invincible’s attention. You will all be happy to know that he has been arrested. . .”

“That’s awful.” You frown. “Can’t believe he brought his wife and kids into it. That’s such a cruel thing to do… You think she knew what she was getting into with him?” You ask, turning toward Serena.

“I mean maybe he was just a good actor? Perhaps he was able to blend in for a while?” Your friend throws out suggestions. “She could’ve also known though. Not that it’s my business. We’ll never know, and I don’t think I want to know.” She sighs before standing up.

“It’s horrific in either scenario. Imagine living with somebody for that long and not truly knowing who they are.” Serena chuckles, but there is no humor. You both stare at the TV screen, watching as the reporter drones on about the details.

“I think I’m going to head back home.” Serena stands up, grabbing her keys and swinging them in her hand. You nod, “Okay, drive home safe… Don’t get electrocuted.” You give her a thumbs up and smile. Is it wrong to joke about events like this? Probably, but if you don’t laugh you cry so…

She gives you an unamused expression “Ha. Ha. Very funny.” She rolls her eyes good-naturedly, “I’ll see you later.” You wave as she walks out, turning your attention back to the TV.

You have no connection to Invincible or any of that “superhero” life. The idea of superheroes excites you, but after seeing what occurred in Chicago, you can’t help but feel like it’s not all it’s made out to be.

It’s not like you’d be able to help. You’d end up as a casualty, another body to clean off the field. The thought makes you shiver.

Every time you see a story like this you wonder if there is a universe where it was you that died. It’s easy to just brush these events off like nothing when you aren’t living them.

That was how most people do it nowadays. Doesn’t affect you? Not your problem. It was a frustrating way to live. You didn’t like to think about how people are dying every day due to these villains.

However, you can’t not think about them. Hearing about this whole situation with, what’s his name, Powerplex? It creates this feeling of dread, a feeling you’re unable to ease. Who is to say that you aren’t going to be the next casualty mentioned on the news?

It truly was easy for the whole world to live in that ignorance. It was easier for you to live in ignorance, then they appeared.

--------------------------

DAY ONE

Honestly, the first day wasn’t that eventful for you. It wasn’t until the late evening you even heard about it.

You didn’t live in an area that was immediately affected by the attacks, so it wasn’t as if your apartment suddenly came crashing down on you. Instead, you got a call from Serena. You raise an eyebrow before picking up the phone.

“Uh hey?” You wonder why she called you, it wasn’t like you got calls often.

”Oh my God, you’re okay.” She breathes out in relief, and now you know something is up. “Please tell me you’ve seen the news.” Her voice is filled with worry.

You stop moving, “No… You know I don’t check the news that often.” You respond. Admittedly, that's on you. You probably should keep up with the news more often.

She sighs, “Turn it on. There’s like over a dozen Invincibles out destroying major world cities.” You feel your heart drop before immediately moving to your TV and turning it on. You switch to the news.

No words are being spoken, they don’t have to. The screams of panic strike fear into your heart.

The camera shows a gigantic building in Chicago crumbling down. The cameraman focuses their lens on the figure floating above it all. Whoever it is, they’re wearing a white uniform.

The camera isn’t advanced enough to zoom in on their face, but you don’t find yourself doubting Serena’s information. Suddenly a white blur knocks the camera away, and it fades into static. You watch in horror.

“Oh shit…” You whisper to yourself, forgetting that you are still on the phone.

“It’s being recommended that we don’t exit our homes. We just pretend like nobody is home.” Serena’s words barely register, but you nod, forgetting that she can’t see your visual response.

“Okay… So we just sit here until they leave?” You ask, feeling stupid for asking the question. What else could you do? Fight them? You’d sooner kill a bear with your bare hands than somehow survive facing off one of them.

The silence between you two is loud, “Not like we have any other choice.”

--------------------------

DAY TWO

By this point, you had been living in relative darkness for a little over a day. Serena sent you a link to an article advising citizens what to do: keep the lights off, and stay away from windows. You don’t want them to know you’re there. You had occasionally gone to get some food and drinks from the kitchen, but besides that, you were pretty much locked in your room.

The small peeks you took of the outside world showed promise. Realistically, the chances of one of the variants coming to your suburban neighborhood to wreak havoc aren’t high.

You close the curtains and look away from the window. To be fair, they also aren’t zero.

After being bored and doing nothing for over a day, you were instantly aware when something changed in your environment. You felt your heart stop for a moment. It sounded like somebody entered your apartment.

You remain frozen as you try and listen for any more signs of life outside your room. Eventually, you hear something. A voice calling your name, whoever it is sounds familiar. However, that doesn’t mean you’ll come running out. You don’t respond immediately, sitting there in silence and fear, slowly inching towards the closet to hide.

On the way, you pass by your door, which was slightly cracked open. The intruder could walk in whenever they wanted. It wasn’t the most brilliant move you’ve made, but it wasn’t like you were expecting guests okay?

Your eyes widen as you take in who it is. “Mark?” You push the door open hesitantly. His attention immediately snaps to you. “What are you doing here?” You ask, exhaling slowly and calming your pounding heartbeat.

He stares at you stoically, before walking over to you, his steps are unhurried. Suddenly you realize that he left the door open behind him. You feel your heart rate spike up again.

“WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU!?” You whisper yell as you push past him to the door. You accidentally bump your shoulder onto his while walking by, causing him to halt and falter in surprise.

”How did you get in? I thought you said you lost that emergency key I gave you.” You lock the door and turn to him again. He observes you silently.

“I found it.” He responds, tone even.

“Well yes, I kinda assumed that.” You respond dryly before feeling the anger leave your body.

“Hey…” You place your hand on his shoulder and he stiffens. “Are you okay? Did one of those variants attack you or your mom?” He finally looks you in the eye for the first time since he unexpectedly entered. His stare is piercing, it feels like he’s looking at your entire soul.

He pauses for a moment before answering, “They came through and destroyed my house.” His voice sounds detached like he’s somewhere else right now.

You feel your eyes widen and your heart drops, “Oh my God, is your mom okay?!” You guide Mark back to your room, he seems to follow with no resistance. You sit on the floor, but he remains standing.

“She’s fine. She wasn’t there.” He responds, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“That’s good… I mean not good that your house was destroyed, but good that she got out of there. I mean have you seen the damage that these Invincibles have done?” Mark looks at you like he’s expecting something, and you feel slightly unnerved. Maybe he’s in shock? You can’t exactly blame him. You do feel kinda awkward though. How exactly do you comfort somebody who just had their home destroyed and almost had their mom killed?

“I was watching the news when it started, there was this one I saw. I think it was Chicago he hit?” Mark freezes slightly, his eyes narrowing in on you, but you don’t notice.

“It was crazy… He didn’t look like Invincible at all. However, judging by how many of the other attackers look like Invincible, I want to say that this one was probably some weird Invincible variant in white.” Mark gives you a weird look.

“What’s wrong? Still worried? Don’t worry we should be safe here. I don’t see why an Invincible variant would attack me. I don’t even know who is under that mask. We’ll be safe here if you wanna stay until it’s over.” You feel like you’re talking too much at this point, so you stop before you embarrass yourself more than you already have.

“So I can stay.” Mark eventually speaks, getting your attention. The phrase is less of a question, and more of a statement, like he needs you to reaffirm what you already said.

You nod, “Of course, stay as long as you need.” You smile at him. Mark stares down at you before nodding and sitting right next to you on the floor.

You raise an eyebrow, “You know you can sit on my bed right? You don’t have to sit on the floor.” He looks at you and slowly nods.

“Right…” He sounds hesitant, but eventually stands up walking over to your bed. He sits down on it and looks back at you. He stares at you expectantly. You feel scrutinized under his gaze.

"Uh, is there something on my face?" You ask. He continues to stare at you before he looks away.

"You look different." Well okay then. Is that an insult or compliment?

“Uhh, I don’t exactly look much different than the last time I saw you. Maybe it’s the lack of sunlight.” You joke. He looks at you like you’re stupid. “Hey don’t give me that. Come on wanna play a game or something? I’ve been bored out of my mind here.”�� You stand up stretching.

“A game…” He repeats dryly. “What ‘game’ would you wanna play?” He asks.

You hold your hand out giving him the “wait” gesture. He watches as you search around your room before finally finding what you're looking for. “Here we go!” You show him your deck of Uno cards.

“Uno?” Mark responds confused. “You want to play this... ‘Uno?’” He gestures to the cards. You raise an eyebrow looking back at the cards.

”Yes…? Something wrong with that? I only have the original one if that’s what you’re upset about. Couldn’t find the Seance Dog version, I must've lost it.” You sit next to him starting to shuffle the cards.

”That’s not the problem…” Mark starts to sound unsure looking at the deck of cards. ”Do you perhaps have its original packaging?” He asks.

You blink in confusion, “No, why?” You start giving him his cards.

”I just need to see its instructions.” He looks at the cards blankly.

You sigh, “No, stacking plus twos and plus fours is not in the rules. Yes, we will play with it anyway.”

You give yourself your cards before setting the giant stack down and flipping over the first card, it’s a green four. “I’ll go first.” You place a green seven down.

Mark stares at the cards, before looking up at you. He stares at his cards for half a minute. “You gonna play a card or are we just gonna sit here?” You joke.

“Just…” He sounds frustrated, “Just give me a moment…” He looks at the cards.

After another period of silence, you eventually break it, “Dude just place down a seven or green, please. Whatever strategy you’re thinking of, it clearly isn’t working.” You chuckle.

He looks at his cards before slowly placing a green five down. “Right… I was just planning something.”

You immediately slam down a blue five. “Yeah sure, try all you want. You aren’t gonna win this time.”

He looks at you with the most serious look you’ve ever seen on his face, “I wouldn’t count on that.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“HOW?! YOU CAN’T DO THAT!” You point at the stack of cards in the middle, telling you to take 14 cards.

“The rules are the rules. Take the cards.” Mark points to the deck of cards, his lips upturned slightly.

You glare at him before smiling. That was the first time he’s "smiled" today. He’d been off all day, and if losing a game of Uno was what it took to cheer him up, it was a price to pay.

You both play a few more rounds before you get tired of losing. “Okay, you never win this much. Are you cheating?” You jokingly ask.

He scoffs, “Cheating? I don’t need to cheat to win.” He taunts holding his singular card in plain view. The words "UNO" in the back taunt you for the seventh time. The trace of a smile is gone from his face, but you can see the mirth in his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, enjoy it while you can.” You sigh placing down your only play. You look up at him, and he stares at you for a long moment.

“You know dramatically holding out your move doesn’t make you mysterious. Just draw more cards, I know you don’t have a yellow or two.” You roll your eyes.

He looks at his card and sighs in the most contrived manner possible, a stark contrast to the serious demeanor he had when entering the apartment. “You’re right. I don’t have either…” He places his last card down, a wild.

You look at him blankly, he returns the stare with a smugness he didn’t previously have. You place your cards down before walking out into the kitchen, Mark follows you. “What are you doing?” He asks, the smug tone gone.

“I'm gonna sacrifice myself to those variants running around, that fate might be better than having a seven-time losing streak.” You respond sarcastically.

“You know what,” You point out to the window, “at least I would beat them in Uno.” You say referring to the Invincibles out destroying the world.

Mark looks at you, then at the window, then back at you, “I doubt that.”

You lean back on the counter dramatically, feigning offense, “Oh how you wound me! I think I could beat their asses in Uno! I bet at least one of them doesn’t even know how to play it!”

“I’m sure.” He replies, there seems to be amusement in his voice, but you can’t imagine why.

“Hey, I beat you in Uno all the time. Consider this your lucky day.” You grab a bag of chips. “I was going easy on you today.” You say before you begin grabbing chips out of the bag. “Want some?”

Mark looks at the bag, his face turning to a grimace, “I’ll… pass.” You shrug and continue snacking before putting the bag away.

”Suit yourself. Feel free to eat whatever I have, just don’t eat it all.” You gesture toward your pantry, his gaze following the direction you point.

You start to walk away, “Where are you going?” He asks as you pause.

”Pillows? Blankets? I need to grab some extra for myself. You can take my bed.” You look into one of your cabinets, grabbing an extra couple of pillows and a blanket.

“Is it not your bed though?” Mark asks, frowning.

”Well, yeah, but you’re my friend and my guest.” You smile walking towards your room, and he follows behind you. “I mean with everything you’ve been through recently, I’d feel bad if I forced you to the floor.” Mark remains silent.

You start to create a pile of blankets on the floor, rearranging the pillows how you like them. Mark watches silently.

“Hey, could you turn my TV on? Make sure it’s muted. As long as the lights aren’t flashing too bright on it I think we’ll be okay.” You ask Mark, he gives a hum of acknowledgment before heading back to the living room.

You finish setting up the makeshift bed before joining him. You look around making sure all the windows are closed and secure before joining him.

“Oh my God…” You whisper as you watch different clips play out on the TV. These Invincible are destroying cities. You can only stare in shock, you watch as buildings topple over, skyscrapers crumble to the ground, citizens get buried under rubble, and nearby life burns.

What you saw that Invincible in Chicago do was a fraction of the damage.

Mark doesn’t say anything, and the initial glance you took towards him when you walked in reflects that indecipherable look once again. Who knows what he’s thinking? These monsters almost killed his family.

You look over to him to see if he’s watching, his gaze looks detached and uninterested. You turn back toward the TV. “I’m sorry…” You mutter, feeling his eyes turn toward the back of your head.

“For what?” He asks, and he sounds genuinely confused. “You didn’t do it.”

You look back at him, his eyes reflecting disbelief at an apology. “No, but I’m sorry it happened to you.” You look at the screen, showing the burning buildings. It feels like you can hear their screams despite the muted volume.

He looks at you, not that you can see, as if you're a puzzle. “Why apologize for something you didn’t do? Seems pointless.” He asks.

You look at him, your eyes meeting again, “Sympathy, perhaps.”

--------------------------

DAY THREE

You open your eyes to the blinding light of your window. You blink the sleepiness away before processing that your window is OPEN.

You stand up quickly, tripping over your pillow before you reach to close the window and curtains. You look at your empty bed, perfectly made.

”Mark?” You call out. You open your door to see him in the kitchen with a mug in hand, windows all open, and lights bright as day.

You gape for a minute before walking over and closing all of them. Once you close them, you turn off the lights, you can still see, but you will admit you kind of missed lighting like that. “What are you doing?!”

Mark looks at you, raising an eyebrow.

You gesture wildly to the house around you, “Uhh I don’t wanna burst your bubble, but we are not Invincible. What are you gonna do if one of those variants attacks us? The attack on your house proves that nobody is safe.”

Mark looks at you uninterested, “Nobody will attack this place.”

”You can’t guarantee that, Mark.” You respond exasperated. “If you could, you wouldn’t be here right now.” You frown as Mark stares at you stoically.

“Look, I’m sorry. I really don’t want to take this out on you, but it’s scary out there. I don’t want to be this paranoid, trust me, but I can never be too sure what will happen.” You sigh looking at him.

“Hell I mean, one of those Invincibles could kick that door down, and we’d be toast. I mean how many even are there?” You ramble.

“Sixteen total.”

“Sixteen?! Damn.” You exhale in disbelief. “That’s sixteen different Invincibles who could essentially destroy the world. Wait, how’d you even know there are sixteen?” You ask.

Mark gestures lazily toward the TV. “Righttttt, that was a dumb question.” You sigh. Suddenly you pause that train of thought, “Wait, what happened to Eve?”

Mark takes a slow sip of his coffee, “Not sure.”

You frown in concern, “Have you had contact with anybody since they invaded?”

”Just you.” He takes another sip.

”Damn, that’s sad… Do we want to try and contact her?” You ask hesitantly. It doesn’t seem like he wants to talk about Eve.

He shrugs, “Lost my phone.”

You frown, “Oh… Do you wanna. . .” You look up at him, his eyes dead set on you. “You know what, never mind.” You make a mental note to check if you have Eve’s number later, and maybe ask what his whole attitude is about.

“Anyway, were you up long before I got up?” You ask, changing the subject.

He shakes his head, “No.” He responds.

“Okay good, I was worried I had slept in or something.” You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You pull it out and see that Serena sent you a new link, you’re so grateful that she keeps up with news better than you can.

”Hey it seems like the variants disappeared from the cities.” You casually mention, Mark looks up, suddenly interested.

“Where did they go?” He asks. You shrug in response, reading the rest of the article. He walks over to try and read over your shoulder.

“It seems like they all left at roughly the same time, perhaps something called them. Maybe they have a ‘Boss Invincible’ or something.” You joke.

Mark chuckles humorlessly, “You think?”

“You don’t think that?” You retort, smiling.

“No, I mean you’re probably right.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “It just sounds strange.” He continues.

You nod understanding, “Yeah, but I mean what else could bring them together? They have to have a leader of some kind. This attack seems too coordinated to just be unplanned.”

Mark sips his coffee loudly, “I guess.” It sounds like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t.

You feel your phone vibrate again. You check it and see a text from William. “Hey, William texted me! You’ll be glad to hear that he is okay.” You hear Mark hum in acknowledgment before opening the message.

It’s safe. They’re gone for good.

You look at the text message surprised. You have multiple questions.

How do you know?

Just trust me on this, I know some people who work with the government. The Invincibles are gone.

Mark notices your silence, “What is it?” He asks.

You turn towards him, “They’re gone gone. The Invincibles apparently vanished, completely. They didn’t just stop attacking the cities or get called away, they aren’t here anymore. They’re gone for good. ” This catches his attention.

“Are you serious?” He asks. His eyebrows furrow, is he mad?

”...Yeah.” You pause before confirming. “Are you okay?” You walk up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He immediately tenses up.

“Hey, they’re gone. They can’t do any more damage. Everything will be okay.” You try to reassure him.

He looks down before relaxing. “They’re gone.” He repeats, you nod. “All of them?” He asks quietly, you nod.

“All of them.”

--------------------------

“What do you mean they’re not all accounted for?” Cecil yells out walking down the hallway as one of the assistants follows closely.

“You mean to tell me that there is still one of those Marks out there?”

The assistant nods frantically, “We accounted for every single one that died, and the ones that were sent to that alternate dimension. There is still one here, and he’s not our Mark.”

Cecil stops walking, “Does Mark know?” He asks.

The assistant shakes their head, “No… We weren’t sure if we should tell him. I thought it was best to tell you first.”

Cecil nods in approval, “I’m glad you did… Do you know where he was last seen?”

“It was the Invincible that destroyed Chicago, he left after decimating that city. We aren’t entirely sure where he went. He could be on the other side of the globe, but we do know he hasn’t left the atmosphere.” The assistant replies.

"Good, we need to see if there’s a way to locate him. For all we know, he’s already aware that his counterparts have been banished. I can’t imagine he’d serve himself up on a silver platter for us to eliminate." Cecil starts walking towards Eve’s room, there’s a large chance Mark is still there.

“He can’t hide for long, sir. We’ll find him.” The assistant follows closely behind him.

"Like you already said, he could be halfway across the globe. We can’t leave a threat like that lying around ready to strike whenever. We need whatever leverage we can get right now. If we make it public information that he’s wanted, he might just leave the planet."

"I don’t know about you, but I don’t exactly feel safe knowing an evil version of Invincible is out there somewhere in the universe. We were unprepared for this attack, next time we’ll be ready." Cecil walks down the hall watching through the windows as more ReAnimen are being created. He continues to walk past them.

“There’s only one of him. We’ll bide our time. Keep me updated on any status updates on him. If you hear anything that sounds like Viltrumite sightings, I need to know as soon as possible. I will spare no expense, understand?”

”Yes, sir.”

#invincible #invincible fanfic #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #viltrumite mark x reader #mark grayson x you #mark grayson x y/n #invincible x you #Salty’s Silly Writing 🦦

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midnghtprentiss · 2 months ago

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possessive - jack abbot

a/n: so i have this scenario in my head but idk if i love it or hate it, it’s up to you at this point 😭 sorry for any misspellings, english is not my first language

pairing: jack abbot x f!pediatrician!reader

summary: jack abbot is a possessive man and we love that

warnings: dr abbot being hot, myrna being inconvenient as always, medical inaccuracies, let me know if i missed something (gif not mine i just find it here)

Possessive is a word referred to ownership or a relationship of belonging between one thing and another.

Is the state of having, owning, or controlling something.

Jack Abbot was a possessive man.

Not an inconvenient possessive man. He was subtle. One hand at the end of your back. Picking you up at the end of your shift when he isn’t working. Talking to you with the softest voice. Sharing coffee or a granola bar he had in his pocket for you. The glances to other men when you’re walking by.

He had nothing to fear with you. You sleep and wake up with him every day. He knew exactly how to show someone that you belonged to him without saying a word. He hasn't put a ring on your finger and yet everybody in the ED understands you’re his girl and nobody was crazy to question him.

It was supposed to be your day off. You already made plans with Emery and Parker to go out for dinner and have some drinks like you do every month. That’s your way of gossiping and keeping the bond stronger, especially working at male dominated fields. Keeping the girls together makes the job easier and better. You were even planning to invite Samara to the next dinner.

The best thing about the trio was initially to piss Jack off and because you worked so well together and a friendship naturally bloomed - and thank god it did. The funniest, dirtiest and best conversations came out so easily between you that it was impossible to keep track of the actual dialogue topic when you combined.

Unfortunately your phone vibrated in your purse during dinner with a message from Robby letting you know there was an emergency of a child that fell and the parents were asking for you. These things were pretty normal in your routine when you work with pediatrics emergencies. In less than fifteen minutes you were walking towards the ED entrance like you weren't just discussing panties over drinks.

Worst part of it? You had no time to change your clothes. So you were standing at the nursing station with the most expensive Valentino dress you own, brand new shoes and your favorite coat to protect you from the cold.

The scrubs were a protocol when you’re working and you were not. You hated to work without them and hated even more that your backup scrubs were not in your car. Jack must’ve taken them to wash and didn’t put them back.

Jack didn’t see you coming and he had no idea of the dress you chose for your girls night. Bridget was already laughing when you entered, holding you something to cover up until you have to leave again. She quickly took your overcoat and gave you a white coat, which helped a little but not too much because of your heels clicking at the floor.

“Wow doc, didn’t know you could look that hot.” You heard Garcia teased and shook your head laughing. “You should show up like this more often, as an experiment of course.”

“I appreciate your words Yoyo. Maybe next time I'll show up with your favorite color.” She blew you a kiss and walked away laughing.

“He’s going to need to be sedated when he hears you’re in his ED looking like this” Robby chuckled when he found at the nursing station. “Sorry I've called you, they insisted on being you. They are barely letting Mel work there.’

“It’s fine, Robby. I don’t like my day off anyway.” You winked and went straight to the room they were in.

The child parents came running to you the moment you entered their plain sight. Dr. King was accompanying them before you arrived, describing the situation in detail and how she dealt with them. And for her face you knew how those parents weren’t easy to deal with.

“Dr (Y/L/N), this is Jamie, 10 month old, previously healthy, fell from the crib around 9 p.m.. According to the mother, he tried to pull himself up using the crib rails, lost his balance, and fell over the side of the crib, landing directly on the floor. He cried immediately for about fifteen minutes, with no loss of consciousness and no vomiting. The mother noted only mild bruises in the right frontotemporal region, with no other signs of trauma. He remained active, fed normally, and showed no changes in consciousness or behavior. “ You heard Mel's words with attention while examining the child.

“You ordered any exams, doctor King?” She nodded and passed you the chart to look at.”

“A CT, x-ray and some labs just to make sure everything is perfectly fine.” You nodded, shaking your head.

“Excellent.” You smiled at her and turned your attention to the parents.

“Does he cry when he moves? Has he had any seizures? Allergies or something we need to know?” They kept denying. “Why don’t you bring him early? It’s almost one in the morning.” The parents kept their silence and you shrugged your shoulders, looking at them. “Alright then. Doctor King will accompany you to the CT and the x-ray.”

Something you loved about yourself was the way you’re pretty centered and rigid about your job, especially working around and with children. Fighting with parents? You do every shift. Making the little ones laugh? You did it too. You were tough and nice but at the same time the children absolutely loved you. The most common thing to see was you holding a child mid shift and laughing about it with the nurses.

He was waiting for you at the nursing station. Coffee in hand. Jaws tighten when his eyes land on you. Eyebrows raised while he analyzed your shoes. You leaned closer to him, enough to look professional and only a little mischievous so he could smell your new perfume - the one he bought you.

“Hi there, doctor Abbot.” You touched his arm and smiled, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. “Peds emergency, they have to call the best.”

“This is not workplace clothing.” His hand reached yours, quickly brushing your finger.

“I had a nice time at dinner, thanks for asking, by the way.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll go home when his exams are finished. I won’t even leave this spot.” You sit in the vague chair and cross your arms.

“Nice coat, actually.” Dr. Jack Abbot. It was his coat. “You should work with this more often since you don’t want to change your last name.”

Before you can even replied you heard Myrna screaming at the other side of the room.

“Nice ass, MacDreamy.” She pointed at you.

“Been working out lately, Myrna. Do you like it?” You teased her and she giggled.

“Watch out or I’ll steal your girl, Abbot. I killed a man before and I can do it again.”

When you turned to look at Jack again, he was serious. His forehead was tense and his knuckles white from holding his coffee mug. His hair was a little messy and there was some blood in his scrubs.

Hot. Really hot.

He didn’t care when your friends, female friends, flirted with you because he knew you flirted back joking. He respected your boundaries and you respected him too. You still find it pretty amusing how he gets all possessive over small things, lucky you he didn’t see the dress you were wearing underneath the white coat.

Vintage Valentino, sheer black chiffon, off-the-shoulder neckline with the fabric draped down the arms, creating a dramatic, sophisticated look. At the bust, a large central bow, asymmetrical and flowing skirt, with soft, layered fabric and a high front slit that reveals the left leg. Jack never complained or talked badly about your clothing, he actually enjoyed seeing you wearing the clothes you liked - he enjoyed taking off more. He describes being an extension of your personality.

“Want to talk about that dress?” He lifted up the white coat a little. “Showing legs and neck like crazy, hm?”

“Nope, we’re not doing this here. You’re working.”

“Why not? I thought you like showing off a little too much.” He crossed his arms and you sigh.

“Oh my God, is this foreplay?” His eyes locked on yours. “Fuck it, I’m into it.”

“Just stay here until the boy it’s back.” He stared at you for a few seconds and you tried to control your smile.

“Are you jealous, Abbot?” You heard Shen comment and buried your face in your hands. He just gave him the nastiest look you’ve ever seen in your life and you can tell he already gave you some looks at you in the bedroom.

The exams took a while to get ready and when they returned to the emergency room, you met them again holding a tablet to explain the situation to them. Immediately the little boy was already in your arms, resting his head over your shoulder.

“The CT and the x-ray both came normal, no injury or other systemic trauma. He’s safe and sound. If you notice something is different, bring him immediately.” You hold his little hand and smile brightly. “You’re lucky to be here today, Jamie.”

The parents asked a few questions about the exams and the therapy you chose for him and after they left you stayed inside the empty room for a while before you left to grab the rest of your stuff.

Jack was talking something with Robby when you approached them, taking off the white coat that belonged to your man and putting on your warm and cozy overcoat. His eyes went straight to your almost bare chest, he had to scan the room pretty quickly for perverts watching you. One drunk guy screamed that he wanted you to talk to him, Myrna said something about your ass again and this time Mel came in complementing your legs.

“You should be grateful you weren’t there when Emery and Parker saw me, you probably be in jail now.” He helped you close the buttons of your coat.

“Remind me to put a goddamn ring on your finger.” He whispered closer to you, making you burst out laughing.

“What a romantic proposal. I’m really emotional.” Jack rolled his eyes, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I already heard some jerks talking about you and I didn’t appreciate their tone.” You passed your arms around his shoulder - ignoring the PDA rule you established for work.

“Yeah, I’m still sleeping in your bed tho.” He agreed, laughing softly. “Gotta go now. Emery is waiting for me at Five Guys and I could kill for a burger now.”

“Be careful, beautiful.”

“Try to go home in one piece.” You squeezed his shoulder and winked before walking away.

When you arrived for your next shift there was a big diamond on your finger and the biggest smirk on Jack's face when people started to talk about it.

#the pitt #jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #dr abbot #dr abbot x reader

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espinosaurusrexex · 7 months ago

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You try to find Bucky a date but he only has eyes for you

a/n: playful Bucky and "clueless" reader are my new fave

word count: ~800

warnings: fun fluff, teeny bit angst

･ﾟ✫* 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ｡✭･ﾟ

“Do you have any preferences for a partner?” You sat next to Bucky on the sofa in the common room, determined to find the perfect date for him upon request from Sam.

“Well, I’m very particular when it comes to my type.” Bucky clasped his hands in his lap as he eyed you opening your notes app. He wasn’t too keen on the idea of dating anyone. Well, anyone that wasn’t you to be clear. There was a reason he’d yet to ask anyone out since working here. The same reason he chose to entertain your attempt to set him up. He liked spending time with you.

“Particular is good. More details mean I can find the perfect person for you.” You beamed at him and Bucky cursed under his breath when his heart did the somersault thing.

Then he decided to shrug it off. “If you think so.”

Seemingly nonchalant, he watched you prepare some bullet points on your phone, itching to reach out and smack the thing from your grasp so you could hold his hand instead.

“I am the perfect matchmaker, Bucky. You should be glad I’m helping you. The amount of feedback I’m given for my relationship expertise is unmatched.”

“Think I should check your references, doll,” Bucky smirked. “Cause you never once went on a date since I’ve been here.”

You stared at him blankly and Bucky took the opportunity to look at your lips. And just as he suspected, they looked perfectly kissable today.

“Coaches don’t play, Bucky.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, making Bucky chuckle.

“Okay now, favorite hair color?”

“I do enjoy a nice y/h/c,” Bucky answered immediately. He knew you’d not let this go, so he might as well play into it. He knew exactly who his type was, so the questions shouldn’t be too hard.

“Preferred height?” You typed away and Bucky stood and held up his hand to the spot he knew your head ended when you stood next to him. “Abooooout this tall.”

You glanced at him swiftly, nodding and typing the info like a machine. Bucky chuckled again. You were so invested, he could probably say your name as his preferred one in a partner and you’d write it down without question.

“Perfect eye color?”

“Y/e/c.” You froze in your tracks for a second and then you proceeded to type.

“Wait,” Bucky said, grabbing your face with his metal hand and looking into your eyes with furrowed brows. “Y/e/c with those beautiful speck in ‘em. That’s what I like...”

He watched as your pupils switched between his and Bucky wondered if you’d finally caught on. He wasn’t trying to hide it, after all. However, all he got was another moment of intimate eye contact before your jaw slightly pressed against his hand with the next question tumbling out of you.

“Preferred occupation?” There was the hint of a smile on your lips, and Bucky couldn’t have missed it. Maybe you were even wittier than he thought you to be.

“Hmmm....” He tabbed his chin now embracing the game you’d invited him into. “I’d die for a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.” He let go of your face. “Maybe an avenger even - I think that would be perfect for me.”

Bucky turned back slightly, now watching you out of the corner of his eye, heart hammering in his chest yet again. Your fingers typed furiously on that phone of yours and his hand began to sweat. It was fun while it lasted, now he’d have to go back to serious.

“Bucky-“ his heart dropped when you whispered his name as you watched your notes. But then you put your phone down and grabbed his hands. God, this was worse. You’d let him down easy - somehow he wanted you to be clueless again. “I think I may have the perfect candidate for you.”

That’s when he finally found the courage to look at you again. Firstly at your hands which were gently wrapped around his and then your face, where big eyes were watching him from below.

His chest deflated when he saw the unreadable expression in your eyes. “You don’t have to-“

Bucky didn’t get to finish his sentence because warm pillowy lips were pressed to his and catapulted him into a state of utter shock and disbelief. After a few seconds of freeze mode, your fingers squeezed his gently, as a reminder that this was truly happening. And before any more time could have gone to waste, Bucky’s arms wrapped around you with an urgency that had settled deep in his bones. Maybe you weren’t so clueless after all...

Follow my library blog for fic updates! @espinosaurusrexex-library

#m shorts #bucky barnes drabble #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier fluff #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky fluff #bucky x you

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rissouu · 5 months ago

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I KNOW IM YOUR FAVORITE, gojo satoru ཐི♡ཋྀ

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ in which: he may be your ex, but that doesn’t mean you can just move on.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ wc: 2.9k words.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ warnings: lots of angst, dark content (not really), sexual content, pussy!drunk gojo, stalker!gojo, heavy possessiveness, mentions of violence, pet names, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, baby trapping (but y/n wants it), gojo sucks ur feet for literally 1 second, yandere gojo (ehh), cunnilingus, overstimulation, toxic!gojo (barely), ex!gojo, and etc.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ notes: okay look this shit is very freaky, and it’s loosely based on the song hold me down by daniel caesar! and gojo is a stalker y’all, this is your only warning babes.. please leave now if you’re uncomfy! he is kinda crazy in this but in a lovingly way.. y’know? not proofread either so not too much on me!

when you walked into your apartment you couldn’t help the exaggerated giggles you let out. it was embarrassing actually, acting like a school girl in junior high all over again. the reason for your happiness was pretty simple— you just had your first date.

your first date since you broke up with your ex, gojo.

that was about a year ago now.. a year since you and the love of your life parted ways. up until recently you’ve never had the guts to put yourself out there again, always scared that one day you’ll just end up hurt again.

but your whole view on dating changed when you met this guy at a grocery store. he offered to pay for your entire cart, and it was well over $300 worth. you found the gesture sweet, and from there you two exchanged numbers.

he was no gojo of course, but you had to move on at some point. it’s already been a year, if gojo didn’t reach out yet, then maybe that meant he’d moved on too.

well.. so you thought.

you were so caught up in the excitement from how well your date went, you barely even realized you were still in pitch black.

“fuck i got so distracted i forgot to turn the lights on.” you chuckled to yourself, flipping the light switch on and hanging your purse on the door.

you didn’t know why but you had a feeling you weren’t alone, like someone was watching you— or better yet breathing right down your neck.

the house was eerily quiet, so quiet you could hear the drop of a pen. but something felt off about your apartment, and you were never one to ignore your instincts.

just as you were about to retreat and run out the door, a familiar voice had you stopping in your tracks.

no. fucking. way.

“where were you?” the achingly familiar man smiled, trying his best to hide the dangerous aura oozing from his body. he knew exactly where you were, and always have. you didn’t know it yet— but he’d been watching you for a while now. ever since you dumped him which was more than a year ago now.

technically it was stalking.. but he didn’t like to call it that. in his mind, he was more of a guardian angel— just making sure you’re okay and still breathing.

how else would he check on you since you blocked him on everything else?

the white haired man was sitting on your couch with his head tilted— clearly waiting for an answer although he already knew where you were to begin with. it was pretty easy to keep tabs on you.

you stared at him, a small frown forming across your face. you were feeling weak in the knees. the first thing you wanted to do was jump on him and tell him how much you missed him.

but you knew you couldn’t do that, not anymore. the two of you just didn’t go together, or at least that’s how you felt a year ago. you couldn’t get back with him, you wouldn’t. no matter how much it hurt.. it was better than dealing with his unstability.

“what are you doing in my house, gojo?” you folded your arms— staring back at him with the same expression he was giving you. that’s what he loved about you, you weren’t easy.

with the blink of an eye, he was up from the couch and coming closer towards you. the man easily towered over you so to say he was intimidating was an understatement.

instead of answering your question he just stared at you with a blank expression— and you did the same exact thing. this was common with you two, just staring at each other in silence until one of you dared to speak up.

about five minutes later, gojo finally cracked. you silently praised yourself for being able to last longer than him.

with a low chuckle, he shook his head— slightly licking over his lips. “i think im the one asking the questions here, hm? so answer me.”

you scoffed at his arrogance, seems like some things just never change. “i was on a date if you must know, now get the hell out of my house.”

as soon as you got your words out he couldn’t help but to laugh. honestly, gojo didn’t even know what was so funny, maybe it was the way you said it.. you really thought you held some type of authority?

“and now you’re laughing at me? what’s so funny?”

that only made him laugh more, truth be told gojo wasn’t even trying to laugh, but you trying to be somewhat “mean” was taking him out because you were nothing like that.

you were one of the kindest people he’d ever met, so this little act you had on was amusing to him.

“shit, im sorry!” he clutched his stomach, letting one last chuckle out before continuing. “it’s just.. you really think im falling for this little act of yours?”

your face was quick to scrunch up— finding every bit of his words disrespectful. but it was gojo, so what could you really expect? his bluntness would probably be the death of him.

“excuse me? need i remind you, we are not together anymore gojo!” your voice came out a lot shakier than you’d hoped for it to. what the hell was going on with you?

“well clearly i know that, or else i’d go and kill that fucker you were out with tonight.”

throwing your hands in the air you muttered a strand of curse words, it’s impossible to get through to someone as hard-headed as him. “please just see yourself out.”

before he could respond, you walked off toward your room. you didn’t have the energy to deal with him or his childish antics, he’d already managed to ruin your entire mood. all this did was remind you why you keep your heart locked away— because of arrogant assholes like him.

“there’s no need to be rude, y’know? i just wanna talk to my favorite girl.” gojo followed you to your room— just like you knew he would. god, he’s so annoying.

it looked the exact same as the last time he was here except for the empty wall where the pictures of him used to hang. he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his chest heavy, and heart pang in sorrow. could you really have been done with him for good this time?

“whatever, just don’t get on my bed.. i don’t know where you’ve been.”

‘stalking you’ he chuckled to himself before completely disregarding your request, and plopping down on your bed anyways.

you decided not to scold him for doing exactly what you said not to do. that’s just who gojo was, no one could boss a man like him around.

you weren’t even being serious either. in hindsight, you really did enjoy having him around. as much as you hated to admit it.. it reminded you of the old times, when it was just you and him against the whole world.

“i missed you, y’know? you just up and left without a word.. and next thing i know im blocked.” even though he tried to hide it you could hear the pain in his voice. losing you was like losing a piece of him too, he couldn’t stand it. he couldn’t stand the way you made him feel.

the only reason the man was able to keep it together was because he was watching you, ensuring you weren’t completely out of his life.

it sounded crazy. hell— it was crazy, but when it came to you he’d do anything.

“i know.. & im sorry for the way i handled that. i just felt like we needed to move on, try new things…”

“i don’t want to try new things!” he scowled, quickly sitting up from the bed to face you. “i want you.. just you. that’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

the air was thick, and the room felt like it was caving in. your body was practically on fire listening to him say the words you’d been craving to hear.

“and about that date of yours..” he cooed, running his hands up your thighs and slowly spreading them. “we won’t be worrying about him anymore, will we?”

that little date was never a threat to gojo to begin with. both you and him knew that, but he took manners into his own hands just to mark his territory.

gojo made sure to corner the poor guy as soon as your date was over, and needless to say.. a few threats were all it took. you should be happy he didn’t do worse, it ran across his mind to kill the poor guy at first.

“i..if we do this then no more bullshit okay?” your soft hands gripped his chin as you forced his beautiful blue eyes to meet yours. “none of that childish stuff this time. we’re both grown so we need to act like it, we’ve had a whole year to fix ourselves.”

every time the two of you got back together it turned into complete chaos. gojo wasn’t the best man out there, and you weren’t the best woman. both of you had your own flaws regardless, but you two needed each other.

that was well established the first 10 times you guys broke up, and unsurprisingly you always ended up back in each other’s skin.

gojo’s gaze on you was heavy, almost as if he was trying to study your every breath and blink. all of the dumb, childish expressions on his face from before were far gone.

“yes princess, whatever you want.” he softly spoke as he sunk his head into the skin of your stomach, littering you with soft kisses. “i’ll do whatever you want..”

gojo spoke so gently— his voice softer than ever as he pushed you on your back, wrapping your legs around his shoulders.

you stared at him intently, waiting to see what he would do next. one thing about gojo was he always had something up his sleeve, and part of you knew where this was headed.

when his rough hands gripped the waistband of your flimsy skirt, you didn’t complain. actually you found yourself wanting more, longing for more.

“y’gonna let me get a taste baby? missed her s’much,” soft lips trailed up your thigh— leaving small bite imprints on the flesh. this was his way of staking his claim on you, marking you as his and only his.

you couldn’t stop the shaky sigh that fell from your lips, or the silent nod you gave to your ex-boyfriend for him to continue.

the grin that spread across his face was taunting almost, and intimidating. when that skirt of yours was out of the way, gojo moved on to the black-lace panties. his personal favorite.

“so what, you wearin’ these for other people now?” the fucking nerve of you, he couldn’t believe this. to stoop that low.. well that just won’t do. it seems like he had a few things to correct now that he was back. “fuckin’ answer me. be a good girl for me, yeah?”

your eyes locked with his and all you saw was silent fury, you could tell he was pissed. “not wearing them for anybody toru. just didn’t have any clean ones,”

a lazy grin covered his face at the remembrance of his old nickname, the way it fell from your lips so softly always managed to send heat straight to his dick.

he finally got his girl back.

faint kisses to your cunt had your legs shaking in anticipation— and the soft gasp that left your lips did nothing but egg gojo on as his tongue met your aching clit.

“pussy’s still fuckin’ pretty as ever,” with a low voice his eyes were closed shut, in hopes to savor every last bit of you. when his hands came up to your thighs he couldn’t resist the urge to spread them even further.

the man wanted to explore every inch of you since it’s been so long. so so long since he’s spent some personal time with that pretty pussy of yours.

“w..wait- fuck toru!” you whined when his lips found their way to your pulsing clit, folding his tongue up and down the gooey slit.

his assault to your pussy didn’t stop there. next his thumb was sliding down your sticky folds, not stopping until it was past your tight walls.

your mouth fell open at the intrusion. his thumb wasn’t long but it was thick, causing a bigger stretch than you’d expected.

“so good. taste’s s’good princess,” gojo mindlessly babbled, every word sending vibrations straight to your pussy.

gojo felt like he was out of his body. out of his mind, and he hadn’t even been inside you yet. just what the fuck were you doing to him?

finally fed up with the throbbing ache in his pants he latched onto your clit for a third time, giving it one last kiss before pulling away.

the man couldn’t wait any longer— he needed to be inside you, and he needed it now. before you knew it he was sliding off his sweats and everything underneath it, leaving him completely exposed.

your pussy throbbed just from the sight of him.. you didn’t know how much longer you could wait either.

“don’t worry mama, im ready for ya’.” a low chuckle left his throat when he saw you were just as desperate as him. “you ready for me?”

his blue eyes met your low ones when he slapped his tip against your folds. next he was sliding inside of your pulsing hole with ease, forcing your mouth open.

“o..oh my gosh!“ you winced at the familiar stretch, your walls involuntarily clenched around his dick— trying to push him out.

“n..no- fuck. none of that, y’hear me?” gojo whimpered at the feel of being squeezed, he couldn’t even move you were squeezing him so tight.

the man hovered over you, lips grazing your ear as he coaxed you. “let me in baby, you can do it. i know you can,” he whispered, wrapping his hand around your neck and resting it there.

his words of encouragement had you opening up quicker than he expected, and with every second he was inching deeper into your pussy. gojo felt like he was in a dream— or better yet, on cloud 9. after all that time you still feel the exact same, heavenly.

his strokes were gentle at first, but they sped up when he realized how long he was away from you. a whole year.. never again.

“n..never ever gonna let you keep this shit from me again.” gojo groaned with an edge in his voice that you couldn’t recognize.

your shaky hands wasted no time sliding under his shirt, feeling on the happy trail that covered his v-line. “not gonna take it away toru, ‘s all yours!”

gojo grinned at your words as he pressed onto your lower stomach. with his free hand he gripped onto the back of your thighs and brung your freshly done feet up to his mouth.

his lips wrapped around your toe— eyes locking with yours as he sucked on it. his strokes only got deeper, and you whimpered at all the different sensations at once.

“‘m not gonna pull out,” he admitted as he switched from sucking to leaving small kisses on your foot. “gonna cum so deep in this pretty pussy. never gonna leave me again.”

you were so out of it. drool everywhere, hair messy, tear stained cheeks.. anything gojo said went in one ear and out the other. the man could do whatever, you didn’t care.

“mm yes, don’t pull out. want it s’bad, fill me up please!” small whines filled your throat when you felt a familiar pressure in your abdomen, your pussy wrapping around him even tighter than before. how was this even possible?

gojo’s pace got faster, strokes sloppier.. he was slowly but surely losing all the sense of control he once had before. “f..fuckk ‘m gonna cum toru, so close!”

you gasped when his thumb flicked your clit, looking up at the blue eyes that never left your frame. your legs shook in overstimulation and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold it in.

“let it out mama, you’re okay. gimme all of it- shit.” he hissed as his dick twitched at how tight you were squeezing. “fuck fuck fuck, you’re gonna be such a pretty mama. s..such a pretty wifey, all f’me.”

you threw your head back as chills covered your entire body. the both of you were completely out of touch with reality, not caring about anything but the feeling of one another.

“‘m cumming toru! mhmm ‘m cumming,” you exclaimed, bringing your hand to his stomach. it wasn’t long before the built-up pit in your stomach finally snapped, coating his dick in a ring of your juices.

gojo was close behind you, a whimpering mess as his stomach tightened. before he knew it he was filling you up— spilling his load inside of you, not a drop to be wasted.

“f..fuck yeah. take it mama, it’s all yours. all for you.. gotta give you everything.” he chanted praises as he gave you one last stroke, pushing his cum even deeper into you where it belonged.

your voice was shaky when he called you, so shaky that at first you thought you wouldn’t be able to respond. but even so, you did.

“you’re never leaving me again, understand?” the edge in his voice was back, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your stomach do flips.

“yes toru, i understand.”

if there’s anything you learned from this at all.. it’s that you could never leave a man like gojo satoru.

©rissouu 2025 (this one’s for dulce y’all so thank her, it took me forever *sigh*)

2K notes · View notes

maeedrg · 6 months ago

Text

The girl next door

Gojo x insecure fem reader

ᯓ★

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

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

Words count : 21k (that’s… a lot)

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

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The first time you met Satoru was rather embarrassing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh…” you start, unsure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Geto Suguru,” continues his friend.

“L/n Y/n,” you finish.

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

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

“Why ?” you retort, frowning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Satoru was wondering. Why was he so… intrigued ?

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Already going ?” she asks, eyebrow raised.

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, yes ?” you ask, unsure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a nerd,” you spat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gojo, what ?”

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

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

“Atta girl. See when you want ?”

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

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

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

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

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

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n !”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why did you do that ?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Flirty.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow- really ?”

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

“You’re greedy like that ?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re gross.”

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

“Stop being a flirt for a second !”

“No can do.”

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

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nuh-uh”, he refuses, and you frown.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you agree ?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

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

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

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

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

“Y/n, you’re back ?”

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

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

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

“Yup.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In your dreams.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, really now ?” You grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me ? I’m not a lightweight !”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gojo, what was that-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nudge Gojo, making him look.

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

“She never told me ! What ?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Satoru,” he interrupts you suddenly.

“What ?” you ask confused.

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

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

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

“Waiting for what, Satoru ?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not at all-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not,” you try to seem confident.

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

“Yeah,” you whisper.

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you ? What ?” you frown, looking at him as his smile stretches. You suddenly felt like an idiot.

“So you want to kiss me again ? Didn’t take you for a greedy girl,” he taunts, one hand on his hip and eyeing down smugly. You bite your lower lip, pissed now and feeling ashamed.

“Satoru, don’t play with me,” you glare at him, and he chuckles. Ah, he longed for that stare again. Here it was, displayed just for him.

“Just answer me, sweetheart,” he continues, tapping his finger against his hip and you can’t help but look at his muscular arm, and then at his sweatpants hanging low, before stopping to his pretty pink lips. He angered you, making you be so confused, and pushing you in doing things or saying things you wouldn't usually.

“... Fine. So what. Yes, I want to kiss you ! What’s wrong about that ?” you snap, gesturing with your hands.

“Everything,” he drawls, boring his eyes into yours.

“What ?! Nothing is wrong ! You are the one that kissed me yesterday ! Why can’t I now ?” you retort, pissed, standing up from the bed to face him better.

“I never said that you couldn’t,” he shrugged, smiling wider when seeing you getting so worked up.

“But you make it sound like-” you trail, slightly feeling like you were trapped in this conversation, forced to admit things you never wanted to admit to him because of how embarrassing it would be.

“Y/n, the wrong thing here is that you want to kiss me, yet you don’t. What ? Are you a pussy ?” he mocks, leaning down to be at your height, making it so it could feel humiliating to you.

“I’m not a pussy,” you answer, clearly angry at him and yet knowing he did it on purpose, but God, it worked.

“Then prove it,” he whispers.

“I fucking hate you,” these are your last words before grabbing him by the collar and smashing your lips against his. He smiles through the kiss, immediately embracing you and wrapping his arms around you while tilting his face to the side to deepen the kiss. You move your lips together, all this pent up frustration getting poured in this intimate moment.

“You see when you want ?” he murmurs and he pushes you down on the mattress, climbing on top of you before kissing you back, tongues caressing each other. One of his hands supports him, and he slides his other fingers against your stomach, under your shirt. You shiver head to toes, both because of pleasure but panic too.

You wanted this, knowing it would lead to something more. But you were scared too. Scared that once you will surely sleep with him, he would leave you and it would stop here, being treated like a one night stand and nothing like you wished. Satoru directly senses the tension in your muscles and posture, slowly smoothing you as he kisses your neck.

“Relax…”

“Satoru,” you pronounce his name, your voice holding more emotions than you wanted. He looks up at you in the eyes, and tenderly, his hand caresses your cheek.

“You don’t want this, y/n ?” he asks more softly, slightly frowning.

“I do, it’s just…”

“I won’t force you into anything you don’t want,” he directly says firmly, to make sure you would understand the depths of his words. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Satoru, I’m sorry but, I don’t want to be just a one night stand, or sleeping like that without feelings. It’s not what I want with you, so let’s stop before it’s too late,” you finally admit, looking away ashamed. You were bracing yourself for whatever answer he would give you, hoping it wouldn’t hurt too much.

“Y/n, who talked about no feelings ? I have feelings for you, and I don’t want it to be a one time thing. I thought I made it clear already, I’m not… using you or anything,” he whispers, his face betraying how hurt he is by your words, and his hand on your cheek tightens slightly.

“But- you said you don’t do relationships,” you whisper, somewhat feeling guilty.

“You said that too.”

“But I’m talking about you right now, Satoru. You said relationships weren’t for you, and with all these rumors going around… I really thought you wanted no strings attached and just did all this for fun and nothing more,” you retort, shaking your head.

“The rumors ? Look, y/n, I don’t know what rumors you heard about me, but I don’t care. I know what I said, and I was wrong. I completely, and utterly fell in love with you. Fuck, that’s scary to admit. But God, I love you, I truly do. Everything about you made me fall for you a little bit more each day. So no, me kissing you, me wanting this… is not just for ‘fun’, it’s because it’s you,” he finally admits, cheeks turning red as he looks into your eyes in hope of pouring all his feelings into your soul, to make you see how sincere and vulnerable he was right now.

“What ? You love me ? Me ??” you exclaim in disbelief.

“Yes, you. How can I say this without sounding creepy… Ugh. I’m not very good with all this, but I’m trying. Alright. Since Shoko talked about her new ‘roomate’, I was directly intrigued. She showed me pictures, and my first thought was how pretty you looked. And then she brought the cookies you made… You know I have a sweet tooth. When Shoko proposed to Suguru and me to come hang out at her house, I was excited to finally see you in real life. And since the day we officially met, I kept falling for you. I thought it was obvious, I was always flirting and hitting on you, but you kept brushing it off. I was serious all along, really. I know you see me as someone immature that never stops joking around, and yes, I am. But I swear, my feelings are no joke…” he explains, before chuckling awkwardly and passing his hand in his hair, “Wow, I talked a lot, sorry, ahah,” he finishes, looking at you embarrassed. And you are flabbergasted, mouth half open from shock. You swallow your saliva before gathering your thoughts.

“No, no, don’t apologize. It’s... I am the one being sorry. I truly thought that someone like you would never be really interested in someone like me. I know it’s just my insecurities talking. But, it’s hard to believe it sometimes, you know ?”

“Someone like you ? You mean an angel ? A Goddess ? The love of my life ? My future wife ? My muffin cake ?” he says half jokingly half seriously, trying to make you smile. And here you were, chuckling slightly at his attempt of lightening the heavy mood.

“Satoru… don’t be dumb,” you whisper, while his thumb caresses your cheek tenderly, before softly pecking your lips without warning. You fluster at his gesture. It looked so natural.

“Uh-uh. I’m for real ! Come on baby, you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen and I’m being serious. You’re perfect the way you are, and yours truly is here to show you the truth about yourself,” he ends his sentence by kissing your lips more passionately this time.

You couldn’t believe it. Gojo Satoru was in love with you. And you both were kissing, intimately, on your bed, after his confession that you never in a billion years expected to receive aside from in your dreams. His fingers slide back on your stomach, and his tongue plays with yours as he puts his knee in between your soft thighs right against your core.

You let out a moan of surprise, and his thumb comes to gently touch the bottom of your breast, before grabbing it in his hand and kneeling the fat with care.

“So soft, you’re so perfect,” he compliments you, and that makes you feel gradually more at ease. His lips stay on yours, playing with your nipple that hardens in between his fingers. Your breaths are becoming ragged, and he takes off your shirt inch by inch. The moment you are half naked, you feel the coldness of the room in dark contrast from the warmth of your bodies. You shiver under his burning gaze, and Satoru licks his lips.

“You’re too pretty, I can’t believe my eyes,” he utters, and his lips trail down your neck in wet kisses before sucking on your breast. You let out a noise of satisfaction at his hot tongue licking your nipples, his knee still grinding softly against your clothed cunt. His fingers slowly approach your shorts and caress your inner thighs before teasing at the edge of the tissue.

“Can I ?” he asks, and you nod, eager to feel his touch. His digits go under your shorts, and touch the wet patch of your panties. He grins, clearly smugly, biting softly on your right nipple. His middle finger then presses on your clit, making you jolt, going on a circular motion.

“You’re so wet and I didn’t even go down all the way. How cute,” he teases, and you tug on his hair to make him shut up. He lets out a laugh, and surprises you by finally slipping his hand inside your panties, sliding down your dripping folds. His thumb goes to relieve your poor clit, while another finger caresses your entrance and carefully goes in. Your toes curl and you breathe faster, moaning.

“So so cute,” he whispers to himself, shamelessly staring at your facial expressions, loving the way your mouth parts when his digit curls inside you and hits your G-spot. He sucks on your neck, marking you up and inhaling your scent before letting his fingers move faster. He notices how your thighs start to shake every time he teases your sweet spot, and once he feels it’s enough, he slides another finger, thumb still caressing your clit.

He kisses you back, drinking your whimpers and ragged exhales, already drunk of your body when he barely tasted you. Talking about tasting, he was dying to see and lick your juices. With one hand, he gets rid of your shorts and panties, while the other is still bullying your insides. He moans when he sees your glistering cunt, all wet from pleasure, and he was just imagining himself sinking in between your thighs. He goes faster, until he brings you to the edge and makes you cum all over his hand. His lips are on yours all the way, while you are shaking and trying to gain back a normal level of consciousness. Once you ride down your high, Satoru brings to his face his dripping fingers.

“Ah… that would be a waste, don’t you think ?” he coos, and you look so embarrassed, eyes wide open.

“Satoru, it’s not-”

“Shee, easy. You know I have a sweet tooth,” he stops before sucking on his own digits, eyes almost rolling down at how tasty you are.

“Fuck, so sweet,” he moans, and you look at him through half lidded eyes. He made you feel so good, and you just wanted to make him feel good as well. You take all the courage you need, before kissing him back and tasting yourself. You slide your hands down his torso, caressing his abs through his slutty shirt, excited already. Slight hesitantly, your hand goes down his v-line before caressing his hard dick through his grey sweatpants. Satoru lets out a pleasured hiss, biting your lower lip.

“Y/n, pretty, if you go down here I don’t know if I will be able to keep it slow with you,” he says in between ragged breaths while you continue to caress his throbbing dick.

“I want to please you too,” you answer, looking at him in the eyes, sliding your hand in his boxer and taking in your hand his warm cock. Shit, you did it. You can’t believe it. But you don’t waste any time, and slowly your hand goes up and down, staring at the way he bobs his head backwards and how his adam apple moves.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans, hair falling over his lashes as his eyes are glossy from pleasure. You continue, faster. You notice all the precum on his tip, and you didn’t know from where all this confidence came, but you went down on your knees. Satoru opens his eyes wide.

“Hey, sweetheart, no need to-” he cuts himself in a short breath as your sweet mouth kisses and gives a kitten lick on his tip. He swore if he didn’t have some self restraint, he would have cum all over your face.

“Holy shit,” he hisses, and you slowly use both of your hands and your mouth as you start to suck. His fingers go on your head, helping you in the movement, and his legs get more on a manspread. The scene was to die for : you, on your knees, in between his thighs, sucking his dick while Satoru looked like he was on cloud nine, flushed cheeks, lips parted and moaning. He takes off his shirt in one go and throws it on the side, his hands caressing you.

“Doing so good for me- yeah, just like that, fuck,” he babbles, and you continue up and down, following his lead. When he feels he is about to cum, he suddenly stops you and you look up at him surprised. He lifts you up and pins you on the bed, making you gasp.

“Sorry sweetie,” he whispers, kissing you, and then he slowly starts to open your thighs. You become self conscious, and try to close them. But the hands of Satoru are strong enough, and he gently pry them open back.

“Don’t be embarrassed, y/n, I already saw it all earlier,” he teases tenderly, before lifting your leg and kissing the inside with passion.

“I swear I’m trying to stay sane, but I’m going crazy at how hot you are, y/n. If it was only for me, I would have brought you to pound town starting the second we kissed yesterday,” he admits, biting your thigh before getting settled against your cunt. You can’t help but laugh slightly at him saying ‘pound town’, yet you can’t help but feel yourself grow hotter and hotter at his words.

“We were on public, so-”

“You think I cared about that ?” he stops you, eyes more serious than usual.

“Knowing how shameless you are, no,” you tease, and he grins back.

“Hmmm, you know me so well. I should reward you for that, what do you think ?” he taps his dick against your wet clit, and you shiver, back arching in response.

“Yeah… Do you have a condom ?” you ask, going on your elbows to look at it better.

“In the pocket of my sweatpants,” he answers nonchalantly as he takes the object out of his pocket like he said. He gives you the smile of a winner.

“Don’t tell me you brought it here knowing we would fuck ?!” you exclaim, and he makes you calm down as he rubs his dick against your cunt, you moan slightly.

“Uh… well, yeah ? Hey ! Don’t look at me like that ! And I wouldn’t call it ‘fuck’, but ‘make love’, okay ? And it was just in case, look, I did well,” he defends himself, opening it before slowly rolling down the condom around his cock. It was, to say the least, big. Would it even enter ? He would stretch you out so much !

“What ? Should I call you a good boy for thinking about it ?” you snarl, using your nervousness as a way to be sassy.

“I’m the one doing the praising here, baby,” he corrects, kissing your lips to ease your mind and grabbing your hips to bring you towards him. He slowly smudges your juice over his dick, before softly, and very very gently, entering you.

Your breath gets ragged, and he whispers words of praise in your ear as he pampers you of kisses. Fuck, Satoru thought that he could die in your pussy. And he hated that the condom was stopping him from feeling it well and good, wanting it to be skin to skin, but safety first. His thoughts started to drift that if he managed to make you his wife and future mother of his children, he could have all the excuses of hitting it raw. But that was a question for another time.

“So tight,” he mutters, kissing your forehead before finally hitting his hips all the way. You both take a deep breath, and you arch your back. You let out a ‘fuck’, and Satoru starts to move his hips. One of his hands comes to grab both of your wrists and pin them over your head, fingers tightening around it while slamming his dick inside your cunt. He lifts himself slightly to rub against your G spot, and you keep moaning more and more of pleasure.

Satoru kisses you passionately, his free hand cradling your head to bring you impossibly closer. The pleasure was so good it made your head spin, forgetting everything around you, time, reality, aside from Satoru. His smell, his skin against yours, his kisses, his tongue, his hands, his words of praise and love, everything, everything but only him.

He switches on the side when he realizes he might cum again. He makes you straddle him on top, and he puts his hands on your waist to stabilize you. You sink back on his cock.

“Come on pretty girl, move for me, ‘know you can do it, yeah ?” he asks, grinning at you while licking his lips. He makes you grind softly, and then you start to move up and down, each time falling back on his hips and feeling his dick all the way your insides. Your breast bounces at each thrust, and you try to go faster while he keeps you straight.

“Doing so well, yeah, you can do it,” he praises you to continue, kissing you tits before licking them. His hands grab your ass and his fingers dig into the soft flesh, partying them while jerking slightly his hips to dig his dick deeper inside you.

“Hey, don’t get tired on me, baby,” he coos when he notices your fucked out face, slowying down without realizing.

“Want me to do it for you ?” he asks, and you nod, moaning as you let your head fall backwards. He takes the opportunity to kiss the hollow of your throat.

“Ahh, poor y/n is too exhausted, how sweet… What would you do without me, uh ?” he chuckles, which vibrates against your skin. You glare at him, but he doesn’t let you answer as he smashes his lips against yours.

“Raise a bit your hips… yeah, just like that y/n,” he commands, and when you do so, he suddenly brings you strongly down, and you choke on a strangled moan of pleasure.

He slams his hips, hammering inside your dripping cunt. The pleasure gets suddenly more intense, and you feel like it wouldn’t take you long before cumming. Satoru feels the same, like a possession controlling him, wanting more and more.

“I love you, y/n, fuck- so… damn much… and, and I don’t say that words easily, so, ahhh… you better believe me-” he struggles to pronounce as he gets pussy drunk, cursing in between groans of utter pleasure at the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock.

“I love you too,” you whimper in a desperate way, at the brink of orgasm. When Satoru hears you saying these words, the ones he dreamt of receiving from you, he bursts inside the condom, feeling like he ascended Heavens.

You cum right after, and fall back on him. Satoru wraps his arms around your back to cradle you against his chest, kissing your sweaty forehead. He catches back his breath, face and tip of the ears red.

“You did amazing,” he whispers, kissing your cheek and then your lips.

You answer the kiss lazily, feeling so tired. He gently lifts your hips, taking off his cock and then the condom. He makes you sit back down on his thighs, and he throws the used rubber inside the bean of your room. He smiles when it lands successfully. He looks back at you, stars in his eyes.

“You can’t deny that we are the perfect match now, hmm ?” he whispers in the intimacy of the moment, smiling at you. You chuckle slightly, shaking your head before dropping it back down in the crook of his neck.

“You’re right, Satoru. I have to admit defeat,” you answer.

“Atta girl,” he muses, and then he suddenly scoops you in his arms, making you gasp. He kisses your forehead again, and gives you a cheeky grin before walking towards the bathroom.

“Now let’s get you cleaned, yeah ?” he proposes, and you caress the nape of his neck.

“I can do it myself,” you say in a soft voice.

“Never, I’ll do it. Don’t you know what aftercare is ?” he scoffs offended, pouting.

“Yes I know, thank you very much,” you roll your eyes as he opens the door of the bathroom with his feet.

“Really ? Here I thought you were a bit dumb here,” he jokes, looking away to tease you. You pinch the skin of his nape.

“You are the one that is dumb,” you tease back.

“I’m not the one that got fucked dumb,” Satoru adds, putting you down softly on the edge of the bath.

“Oh, shut up,” you get embarrassed and nudge him, which only results in making him laugh.

“But you love me for my sass,” he coos, patting your head.

“Yes, I do,” you answer in a softer tone, and smile at him. He smiles in return.

“So, can I call you muffin cake like in Shrek ?” Satoru asks batting his lashes.

“No.”

The first time you met Satoru was rather embarrassing. But who cares, anyway. Maybe you were made for him. And yes, Satoru wasn’t out of your league. Because here he was, so in love with someone like you. Yes, you, someone amazing, and he promised that he would keep repeating it. From now, to his last breath.

THE END

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x you #x reader #jjk #gojo angst #shokohime #shoko ieiri #geto suguru #jjk fluff #long fic #jjk smut #jjk au

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flowersforbucky · 12 days ago

Text

under my skin

john walker x reader

word count: 7.2k

summary: what first begins as a series of bad luck shows you a different side of the man who normally drives you crazy.

warnings/tags: a lot of banter, jealous walker, no use of y/n, forced close proximity trope, sprinkle of hurt/comfort, minor injury, kissing and suggestiveness, not explicit but mdni

author's note: if someone had told me a few years ago that i would be writing for john walker, i would have laughed in their face. but god, he was fun to write.

“We can take a break. If you need to.”

Walker snorts. He doesn’t even look down at you – just keeps trekking through the dense woods at the same brisk pace that he has been since he picked you up and carried out you of the old military base the two of you had been tasked with surveilling before you were ambushed and everything went to shit.

You've lost track of time at this point, but you know it's getting late by the way the golden hour sun filters through the trees.

“Thanks,” he huffs sarcastically. “But I don't need to take a break.”

He readjusts you in his arms, tightening his hold under your thighs and back. You wince at the movement, a sharp pain radiating from your injured knee. He glances down when you hiss, a brief flicker of concern in his eyes before his gaze is back on the trail ahead of you.

He's been carrying you bridal style for miles and has yet to break a sweat. Saying you’re uncomfortable would be putting it mildly – your busted knee is throbbing and your neck is aching from nonstop effort to resist resting your face against his chest. But you don’t dare complain – not when you know he’s likely still irritated with you for being a fuckin’ klutz and getting yourself injured.

You're on thin ice as it is. One more smart-ass remark and it wouldn’t surprise you if he sits you on a tree stump and leaves you to hobble back to the car on your one good leg.

“Besides,” he continues as he looks up to the sky. “We need to keep going. It’s going to start raining soon.”

“Rain?” You follow his gaze up to the sky. It’s mostly blocked by tree branches, but from what you can see, it’s perfectly sunny. “The weather report didn’t say anything about rain this morning.”

“Can't always trust the weather report,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I trust my senses. And I can smell that it's going to rain.”

You roll your eyes with exaggerated annoyance. “And what exactly, Mr. Military Man, does rain smell like?”

You’re just testing him. He makes it too fucking easy sometimes. Plus, you need some entertainment for the last portion of this walk. Why did he have to park so far away?

“It’s… you know, earthy. Musky,” he shrugs, jostling you in his arms again. “The smell is produced by a chemical reaction with plant oils and bacteria when there’s an increase in humidity and moisture. There’s a name for it. It’s called, uh...”

“Petrichor.” You finish his sentence, and then purse your lips to resist smirking as you look up at him in amusement.

He looks down at you, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Yeah. That’s it. Petrichor.”

You find yourself staring at him for a split-second too long. “Maybe you’re smarter than you look, Walker,” you jab, trying to ignore the fact that you’d been thinking about how blue his eyes are in this lighting.

As soon as he opens his mouth to retort, a low clap of thunder rolls in the distance. You hear the pitter-patter of rain colliding against the canopy of branches above you a second before you feel the drops hit your skin.

“Shit!” you exclaim, futilely wiping the water off of your face with your arm that isn’t wrapped around his neck.

“Told you,” Walker grunts as he begins to increase his pace to a jog.

Despite the trees surrounding you acting as an umbrella, you’re both sopping wet within minutes. The rain starts as a drizzle and quickly turns into a downpour, soaking through your tactical suit. After what feels like an eternity, the red Jeep that you’d driven comes into view from where he had parked on a roadside pull-off at the edge of the woods.

He seamlessly opens the passenger side door and maneuvers you into your seat before running to the driver's side and hopping in.

“Jesus Christ,” you huff, as if you’re the one who just carried another human being through miles of woods during a thunderstorm. Walker turns the key in the ignition, violently shaking his head to rid his hair of some of the water dripping from his blond locks. The drops fly all over the leather interior of the rental car, and hit you in the face.

“What are you? A dog?” you groan, retrieving your cell phone from the glove box to call Yelena with an update.

“It’s not like you aren’t already sopping wet,” he snaps. “Now buckle up.”

You roll your eyes, only halfway paying attention to him as you scroll through your recent calls to find Yelena’s name. Just as you’re about to call her, he curses under his breath and leans over, reaching across you to yank your seat belt over your chest and lap, clicking it into the buckle.

You narrow your eyes at him, momentarily surprised. “That was unnecessary. All you had to do was say please.”

“Please stop making my job more difficult. How about that?”

“Good boy. Now, will you please drive?”

He stares at you, jaw clenched, and shifts into drive.

The two of you exchange only necessary words for the duration of the drive. You fill Yelena in on your current predicament – fucked up knee, drenched clothes, and a thunderstorm that is bordering on dangerous to drive in. She suggests getting motel rooms for the night and waiting until morning to catch a flight back to New York instead of traveling in such inclement conditions. Exhausted and uncomfortable, even you and Walker aren’t stubborn enough to put up much of an argument.

You're in a small town in northern Georgia – the kind of town that no one has heard of except for the thousand or so people that live there. One bank, one drugstore, a couple mom and pop diners, and yep, you guessed it – a singular small inn with a vacancy sign glowing in neon letters.

Walker parks as close as he can to the entrance, and then opens the door for you as you limp inside before going back out into the rain to get both his and your bags.

“Hi,” you greet the small, elderly woman behind the front desk. She looks up from her computer screen, eyes wide and brows raised when she takes in your wet, disheveled state. “I need to get two rooms for the night, please.”

She gives you a polite smile and nod before she starts clicking around the computer screen. Walker walks through the door a second later, a duffel bag on each arm.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the woman apologizes, looking between the two of you. “We actually only have one room available right now.”

You dig your teeth into your bottom lip to resist the urge to curse out loud. Could one more thing go wrong today? What have you done to deserve such a string of bad luck?

There’s no other hotels within a ten mile radius, and this heavy rain isn’t safe to keep driving in. You’re wet, and tired, and your knee is screaming at you to lay the fuck down and ice it.

“Does the room have – is it – are there two beds?” You stutter out. Sharing a room with Walker isn’t ideal, but you figure you can cope if you have your own beds. He is uncharacteristically quiet beside you.

The woman, whose name tag reads Arlene, glances back down at the screen in front of her for a brief moment before looking back up at you with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, dear. It’s only one bed. But it is a king…” she trails off, eyeing Walker up and down. “So there should be plenty of room.”

You exhale, brainstorming a solution to this predicament. One of you could take the room, and the other could sleep in the Jeep, you suppose. The backseat is pretty roomy…

“We’ll take it,” Walker tells her when you start to open your mouth. You look at him with furrowed brows. “What? I’m not driving anymore tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

You don’t have the energy to protest. You pay for the room before you have the chance to overthink it.

It’s not like you haven’t shared rooms with your teammates before. Hell, you technically have shared a room with Walker before – Walker, and Yelena, and Ava. But never just Walker.

While you're relieved to have someplace dry and comfortable to sleep for the night, there’s a small part of you – a part deep in the pit of your stomach – that feels nervous. When it comes down to it, you trust John Walker with your life. But when faced with the realization that you're going to be sharing a bedroom with him, your thoughts flash back to being cradled against his chest for well over an hour.

You hate to admit it to yourself, but you didn’t exactly mind it. It felt secure. A little awkward at first, sure. But also safe.

And then there was the moment in the car when he took it upon himself to buckle your seatbelt. It should have pissed you off – he’s so damn bossy and impatient. It normally takes little to nothing for him to get under your skin.

Should have and normally being the key words.

You don’t know how to come to terms with the fact that it sent a rush of adrenaline through you. All you could think to do in that moment was deflect with sarcasm so that he wouldn’t pick up on the way you held your breath and your heart rate spiked at the small act of dominance.

You had every intention of catching a flight to New York and pushing those thoughts to the very back of your mind until you’re back home, where he will inevitably piss you off by leaving his dirty dishes in the sink or eating the last of your yogurts without asking you.

Instead, you’ll be spending the next twelve hours with him in a three hundred square foot room with only one bed while you attempt to not dwell on these sudden, unwelcome thoughts.

“I’m gonna go get some ice for your knee,” he announces as soon as you enter the room. He drops the duffel bags and his shield at the bottom of the bed as you begin to take off your combat boots. “There’s a diner right across the road. What do you want to eat?”

You shrug, slightly taken aback by the thoughtfulness. It dawns on you that the two of you haven’t eaten since before your flight this morning. “Oh, uh – just a burger and fries is fine. Or a salad. Or chicken sandwich. Thanks.”

He nods, not phased by your indecisiveness. “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” you tell him as he starts to exit the room. “I’m just going to shower off really quick while you’re out.”

He pauses with his hand on the doorknob, turning to look at you like you’ve grown a second head. “No, you're not.”

“What?” you snap. “What’s the problem?”

“You have a bum leg,” he retorts like it’s obvious. “You can barely walk. The last thing I need is you falling in the shower and cracking your head open while I’m not here. Just wait until I get back.”

So fucking bossy. But for some reason, it doesn’t annoy you as much as it typically would.

“Fine,” you huff. “Don’t get washed away by the storm. I’m starving and can't fend for myself right now, after all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, opening the door and rolling his eyes as he walks back into the motel hallway.

After the door clicks shut behind him, you take several deep, calming breaths. How dare you let yourself be flustered over Walker, of all people?

It’s a stretch to even call him your friend. Sure, the two of you technically live together. Go on morning runs together, and train together, and work together. Eat breakfast and dinner together most days, and spend a decent amount of free time together on your days off.

But you do all of those things with all of your teammates, too. None of them make you want to throttle their necks on a regular basis. So why is it that Walker has you so worked up?

All you know is that you need to get these wet clothes off of your body so that you can lay down without drenching the bed.

With your knee now swollen to the size of a softball, this proves to be a task that is easier said than done. You'd never admit it to him, but Walker is right – it’s probably smart that you don’t risk showering while he’s gone. You can’t put any pressure on your left leg and your balance is fucked.

Once you’re out of the wet tactical suit and changed into a pair of shorts and a crewneck sweatshirt, you finally plop down onto the bed and turn on the Roku television to find something to watch to pass the time. You prop an extra pillow beneath your knee to elevate it a bit, and silently wish that you had told Walker to stop by the Walgreens down the road to get you some ibuprofen.

You’re sure that he would if you’d just call or text him and ask, but you’ve already been quite an inconvenience today, and you don’t want to ask anything else of him right now. Maybe he has some in his duffel bag – though you highly doubt it, since super soldiers rarely have the need for over the counter pain relievers.

After losing track of time scrolling through movie titles on the TV, you select some generic looking action-comedy that you think is right up Walker’s alley. Checking the time on your phone, you realize that he’s been gone for quite a while. The diner is directly across the road from the motel, so you expected him to be back fairly quickly.

Maybe the diner is just busy? Sure, it's storming like crazy, but it is a Friday night and it’s one of the only restaurants in town.

Just when you open your and Walker’s message thread to send him a text and make sure he’s okay, you hear the beeping of a key card as it’s inserted and removed from the door lock. A second later, Walker enters the room with a few plastic bags, somehow even wetter than he was after your stroll through the forest just a little while ago.

You put your phone on the nightstand beside you, choosing to keep it to yourself that you were about to send him a message to check in on him.

Of course he’s okay. He’s a fucking super soldier. He can handle going across the road in a thunderstorm to get some food.

“Oh, hey,” he exclaims, looking at the movie playing on the TV. “I’ve been wanting to watch this.”

You can’t help but grin at the fact that you’d been right.

“Some schmuck forgot to log out of their Netflix account before they checked out.”

He passes one of the take-out bags to you. “One burger with fries and a side salad.”

You happily take the bag from him, your stomach growling at the smell of the greasy diner food.

“And,” he continues, reaching into a bag that you hadn’t noticed. “Some extra strength Tylenol.” He retrieves a small bottle from the bag and tosses it to you from where he stands at the foot of the bed.

“Oh,” you quip, catching the bottle. “Uh – thanks, Walker. I appreciate it.”

He gives an awkward shrug. “Can’t say I never did anything for you. Grabbed a few water bottles, too.”

You dig into your food in hopes that it will distract you from the way your stomach fluttered when you realized he had gone out of his way to get you the medicine – without you even asking.

It really isn’t a big deal. It’s a five dollar bottle of over the counter pills. But Walker doesn’t exactly go around anticipating the needs of others – especially not at the expense of his own convenience. Still, you know better than to read into it. You’re just tired and the events of today are clouding your judgment.

Clearly. That’s the only explanation for why you’re experiencing what can only be described as butterflies over John Walker.

Once you finish scarfing down your food, you cram the garbage back inside the take-out bag and force yourself into a standing position despite your body's protests. You desperately want to shower, even just to have a few minutes kind of alone with your thoughts.

Walker, still in the middle of eating his own burger at the small desk in front of the bed, turns his attention away from the movie and to you.

“I’m going to take a shower now,” you explain simply, grabbing your duffel bag before limping towards the bathroom on the other side of the small room. You pause at the door when you hear footsteps behind you, turning to face him.

“Are you wanting to join me? Or…?” You ask sarcastically.

“Jesus,” he huffs, taking a step back and throwing his hands up. His face flushes pink. “No. I'm just going to wait behind the door and make sure you get into the shower okay.”

You roll your eyes. “I promise I’m capable of getting in the shower.” You can tell by the hesitant look on his face that he isn’t convinced. “I’ll yell if I need anything. Okay? Sit down and finish your food.”

You step into the bathroom, shutting the door in his face as he tells you to be careful in an annoyed tone.

Holy hell. Has he always been such a mother hen?

No, there’s no way. You would have noticed it on any of the other dozen or so jobs that you’ve worked with him in the last few months. He’s being uncharacteristically protective and considerate, and despite the fact that there’s a small part of you that almost likes it, you don’t understand the sudden shift in behavior.

Once you’ve managed to get into the shower without any further injury, you stand beneath the scalding hot stream of water until your thoughts stop racing and your skin feels blistered.

••••••

By the time you finish your shower and post-shower routines, it’s just after eight o’clock. Walker retrieves some ice from the motel lobby and assembles a makeshift ice pack for your knee before going to take a shower himself.

You’re halfway paying attention to the fight sequence unfolding on the screen in front of you when he exits the bathroom in only a pair of black sweatpants. No shirt, hair dripping, and skin flushed pink from the heat of the shower.

Taken by surprise, your eyes freeze on him as he walks by you. Luckily, he doesn’t notice your gaze and you snap out of it before he turns to face you as he pulls a t-shirt from his bag and then yanks it over his head.

Six foot two and well over two hundred pounds of pure muscle – you’re not blind. He looks damn good, but you’re not about to let him know that you think so.

Fucker. There’s no way that was an accident. How does someone remember to take a pair of pants with them into the bathroom but somehow forget their shirt?

You bite your tongue, holding back the smart-ass comments that threaten to spill from your mouth. Something in your gut tells you that’s exactly how he’s hoping you’ll react, and you aren’t going to give him that satisfaction so easily.

“Are you ready to go to sleep? Or do you want to keep watching the movie?” You ask instead.

You’re ready to turn the lights off and pass the fuck out, but he'd been a good partner today, and only a fraction as annoying as he normally is, so you figure it won’t kill you to show a little consideration for his wants, too.

Maybe it's the tone of your voice or the look on your face, but he seems to pick up on the fact that you have no real desire to continue watching this movie.

“I’m beat.” He yawns dramatically, stretching for emphasis. “Carrying you for miles really wore me out.”

You grab the closest pillow to you and chuck it towards his head. “You know, I was going to offer to let you take the bed, but after that comment, I think I’ll stay right where I’m at.”

He catches it with ease and laughs as he tosses it to the ground, in between the bed and the motel door – directly beside you. He grabs a spare blanket that's folded at the bottom of the mattress and then sinks to his knees.

“I promise, I've had far worse sleeping conditions than this.”

You know he's just joking around, but something about the comment gets to you more than it should. All of the far worse places that he had to sleep during his time in the Army flash through your mind and make you feel a pang of guilt for hogging an entire king sized bed to yourself.

“What?” He asks, kneeling on the floor next to you. It hits you that you're just staring at him.

Before you can overthink it, the words are pouring from your mouth.

“Just get in the bed.”

“What?” He repeats, this time in bewilderment. He looks at you like he isn’t sure if he heard you correctly – or like you’re pulling a prank on him.

“You heard me,” you sigh, pressing the power button on the TV remote and turning it off. “This bed is huge. There's no sense in you sleeping on the cold, hard floor when you don't have to.”

His eyes flicker between you and the empty space on the bed beside you. “Are you sure? It's not that big of a deal. I can sleep on the flo—”

“John, get in the fucking bed.”

He closes his mouth, an indecipherable expression on his face. He hesitates for a second longer, and then stands up with the pillow that you'd thrown at him.

“Okay. Scoot over.”

“What?” you chuckle. “Why do I need to scoot over? Just take the other side.”

“Because I want to be closest to the door,” he says like it’s obvious. “In case someone tries to break in or something.”

You roll your eyes, reluctantly moving over to the empty space on the other side of the bed. You’re too tired to fight him on this one.

“How noble of you.”

He takes your place, slipping under the scratchy motel comforter and flipping the bedside table lamp off. The two of you are now encased in darkness – the only noise coming from a television playing in the neighboring room due to paper thin walls.

It’s silent for a moment, and you assume that you’re both going to drift to sleep without saying anything else, when he speaks into the darkness.

“You know, you called me John.”

You glance over your shoulder at him, though it’s too dark to see anything other than his silhouette. “Well, that is your name.”

“Yeah,” he replies after a loaded pause. “But you never call me John. You’ve only ever called me Walker.”

You purse your lips. He’s right – you don’t remember ever calling him by his first name in all the time that you’ve known him. Sometimes, it’s easy for you to forget that Walker isn’t actually his first name.

You exhale through your nose – something between a sigh and a laugh. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“No.” His voice rises an octave. The response comes quickly, like he didn’t think before speaking. “I didn’t… I didn’t mind it,” he murmurs, his voice returning to its normal cadence.

“Oh,” you whisper.

The silence that follows feels heavy. You’re both completely still. A loud clap of thunder booms, shaking the building and breaking whatever tension was lingering between you. You exhale a shaky breath, ignoring the way your heart is beating in your chest.

“Goodnight, John.”

••••••

When you open your eyes, the room is dark except for white flashes of lightning that creep through the cracks of the motel room’s curtains.

You feel groggy and disorientated, so you know that you couldn’t have been asleep for very long. With the way that the storm is raging outside, you quickly piece together that it was a loud clap of thunder or the violent screeching of wind that must have startled you awake.

Goosebumps decorate the exposed skin of your legs and you shiver, wrapping the cheap, thin comforter tighter around your frame.

There's movement from your left and you’re reminded that you aren’t alone in this bed.

“Storm knocked the power out,” he mutters, his voice raspy with sleep.

“It’s fucking freezing in here,” you groan. Your teeth chatter involuntarily.

He snorts. “It’s not that cold.”

“Easy for you to say,” you huff. “Not everyone has super soldier serum turning them into a human space heater.”

You can practically feel the warmth radiating off of his body despite the good foot or so of space in between you. In your half-awake state, you fight the urge to move closer to the only heat source in the room.

“Well, if I’m a human space heater…” He trails off. The bed creaks as he readjusts his position, turning on his side to face you. “I could, uh.. I could help warm you up. Just until the power comes back on,” he adds quickly.

The offer takes you by surprise. If you weren’t so cold, you’d probably burst into laughter. But you’re shivering too much to find anything funny right now. Why the hell did you only pack shorts to sleep in?

Oh, yeah. Because it's spring time, and you’re in Georgia. It shouldn’t be this cold right now. But thanks to the heavy rain and the motel’s lack of proper insulation, it feels like the middle of a New York winter night.

“Really?” you ask lamely. You feel dumb for even considering the offer.

“I mean…” You feel him shrug. “Yeah, why not? You’re cold, I’m warm. You did me a favor by letting me sleep in the bed, so…”

Cuddling with Walker. If your teammates found out, they’d never let either of you hear the end of it. You can hear Alexei’s teasing now.

“Or you can just be cold. I’m fine either way,” he adds when you’re quiet for a moment too long. He starts to turn in the opposite direction when you grab him by the shoulder.

“No, wait,” you mutter, embarrassment creeping over you at the realization of what you’re about to do. “Okay.”

He settles back down, this time laying with his back against the mattress. He extends his arm closest to you, a silent offer for you to tuck yourself between it and his side. Before you can overthink it any further, you close the distance between your bodies and press yourself against him.

Your head rests against his chest, and you throw your arm over his stomach. He wraps his arms around you without any hesitation, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. When you do, you let out a noise that can best be described as a sigh of contentment.

He’s even warmer than you'd imagined. You instantly stop caring about how weird this is and focus on the relief that his body heat provides.

“Jesus, you’re shaking like a leaf,” he murmurs. He runs a large hand up and down the side of your arm, warming you further with the friction.

You snort. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t lying about being cold just to snuggle you.”

“Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

You pinch him just below his ribcage in response to his teasing. His chest vibrates with silent laughter, but he doesn’t say anything else.

You're both fast asleep within minutes. The power comes back on at some point during the night, but you’re still entangled with each other when the sun pours through the curtains come morning time.

••••••

Neither of you mention your night in the small Georgia inn after checking out the next morning.

Not on the drive to the airport, or the flight back to New York, or at any point since returning home almost a month ago.

For the most part, things go back to normal between the two of you. You continue to work together, and train together, and banter persists as it usually does when your other teammates are present.

But more and more often you’re noticing that as soon as you find yourselves alone for more than a few minutes, John suddenly has every excuse to be elsewhere.

It’s not as if you used to spend all of your free time together – but the fact that he suddenly wants to take the stairs up to the twentieth floor of the Watchtower instead of taking the elevator with you is a little odd.

It doesn’t bother you at first. You think it’s weird, but why should you let it get to you? You weren’t exactly the best of friends to begin with.

Then, there starts to be moments that you find your thoughts drifting to him when they shouldn’t. When you get caught in the rain and you think back to how he looked with raindrops dripping from his hair and beard, and when you wake in the middle of the night and it’s a little too chilly and you remember how it felt to be pressed against him in the freezing motel room.

You’ll lie awake at night, wondering if he’s in his bed, directly across the hallway, thinking about the same thing as you.

It's fucking stupid.

Like right now – you’re all at a lavish gala, thrown in celebration of Sam Wilson’s Avengers and The New Avengers(z) coming together to form one big, happy super team.

There’s a full service bar, unlimited hors d’oeuvres, and good music – you should be having a good time.

Instead, you’re staring across the room at the back of a dumb blond super soldier’s head while a reporter attempts to ask you questions about who designed the dress you’re wearing.

“I’m so sorry,” you interrupt her. “I just remembered I have to… go to the bathroom. Will you please excuse me?”

You don’t wait for her to answer before you begin walking across the dance floor without a concrete idea as to what you’re going to say or do when you reach him.

“Hey,” you greet him casually. He turns to you at the sound of your voice, a look of mild surprise on his face. There’s a sudden, undeniable fluttering of butterflies in your stomach. He looks too handsome with his suit and tousled hair.

“Did you try the goat cheese and salami stuffed dates?”

Why that’s the question you decide to start off with, you don’t know.

“Uh – no,” he shakes his head, confusion taking over his features. “No, I guess I must have missed those.”

“That's too bad. They’re fucking delicious.”

He cocks a brow at you. “That’s good to know.”

Well, there goes your ice breaker.

It’s the longest conversation the two of you have had by yourselves in weeks, but there’s a level of awkward tension that you just don’t know how to shake – and it obviously isn’t going to go away on its own.

You toss the rest of your drink back before biting the bullet. “Can we, uh – do you mind if we go somewhere a little more quiet so that we can talk?”

As soon as you get the last word out, Valentina walks up and grabs you by the arm.

“There you are,” she says through gritted teeth. There’s a smile plastered across her face, but her voice gives away her irritation – at what, you never really know or care. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

You sigh, unable to hide your irritation at her timing. “What is it, Val?”

She fake laughs, waving to someone off in the distance. “John, would you be a dear and get me another drink while her and I have a short chat? Thanks so much.”

John's annoyance is palpable. He glares at Valentina with daggers, clenching his jaw as he storms off in the direction of the bar.

As soon as he’s out of ear shot, she turns to you. “I need a favor.”

You resist rolling your eyes in case there’s any cameras pointed in your direction at the moment. “I’m here, aren’t I? Is that not enough of a favor?”

She ignores your quip, pointing to where Sam, Joaquín Torres, and Bucky are mingling with a few random attendees.

“I need you to dance with him.”

“Dance? With Bucky? Why?” You sputter the words out, not expecting that to be her request.

“Not Bucky,” she shushes you, plucking your empty martini glass out of your hand. “The young, cute one in the middle.”

“Joaquín?” You exclaim. “I barely know him.”

You can count on one hand the number of conversations you’ve had with Joaquín. You have no problem with him – he's good at his job, a team player, and he’s enjoyable enough to be around. But the last thing on your mind right now is dancing with a man you hardly know.

“That’s the entire point of this whole thing.” She gestures dramatically to all of the people around you. “Bringing the two teams together. It’ll show people how well everyone is getting along. Ava has already agreed to have a dance with Sam.”

“Jesus Christ,” you mumble beneath your breath.

“I’ll give you an extra week of paid vacation days,” she offers before you can argue any further.

You know she isn’t going to let up. Valentina is nothing if not persistent. Truthfully, you just want her to leave you alone so that you can get on with your night – the extra paid time off is just a bonus.

“One dance and one dance only.”

You walk away from her before she can give you any half-assed words of gratitude.

On your way over to where Joaquín is talking to Bucky and the others, you glance around the crowded room for John. You don’t see him anywhere, and you can’t help but feel the slightest inkling of disappointment.

What would you say to him even if you did happen to run into him right now, anyway? Valentina is making me dance with Joaquín and I really hate dancing but for some reason I don’t think I’d mind it nearly as much if I was dancing with you?

Yeah, right. You’d probably just make awkward small talk about the fucking appetizers again.

You do your best to pretend that there's nothing else on your mind for the few minutes that you talk to Sam, Bucky, and Joaquín, but you can’t stop yourself from glancing around the room every other minute.

“Are you ready to give all of the reporters something super exciting to take pictures of?” You ask Joaquín as he guides you to the middle of the dance floor.

There’s a few other couples slow dancing to the live, classical piano music that fills the venue, so you shouldn’t stick out too much, but of course reporters start flocking around with their cameras when they see a member of the New Avengers(z) and the new Falcon slow dancing.

“Don’t be nervous,” he tells you as he takes one of your hands in his, placing the other on the small of your back. You lift your arm to his neck and begin following his slow, rhythmic steps to the music. “Sam and Ava are going to dance any minute now, and then all eyes will be on Captain America and the infamous Ghost.”

“Me? Nervous?” you scoff playfully. “I’m not nervous.”

“Could have fooled me,” he shrugs. “You looked like you might puke when Valentina first asked you.”

He guides you into a gentle spin, clearly far more experienced with all of this than you. When he does, you catch a brief glimpse on John. He’s standing several yards away with his hands in his pockets and a stoic expression on his face – looking right at you and Joaquín.

You nearly trip over your own foot, but Joaquín catches you and quickly gets you back on rhythm.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I hope you don't take it personally, because it's nothing against you. At all. Dancing just isn't my forte, and I've kind of… had a lot on my mind.”

He looks behind you for a moment before meeting your eyes with a curious smirk. “Would that happen to have something to do with why Walker is looking at me like he wants to bash my head in with his shield?”

“What?” you exclaim, nearly stumbling again. You have to resist the urge to look over your shoulder where John is standing. “Don’t be crazy. He… wouldn't do something like that again.”

Joaquín throws his head back in laughter. “I don’t know about that. I think he just might over you.”

You roll your eyes. “I think you just might be exaggerating.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs. At that exact moment, Sam and Ava begin dancing just a few feet away from you and Joaquín. All of the reporters suddenly lose interest in the two of you.

“Or maybe not. Only way for you to find out is to chase him down and ask him, I guess.”

“Chase him down?” you repeat, looking over your shoulder to see John walking directly towards an exit.

Shit.

“Go on,” Joaquín encourages. “I think it’s safe to say we have given Val the photo op that she was hoping for.”

You give his hand a grateful squeeze before letting go. “Thanks, Joaquín.”

You really fucking wish you weren’t wearing heels right now. As fast as you can without twisting an ankle, you make your way across the dance floor, heading straight towards the hallway that you saw John enter just a few seconds prior.

There's a voice in the back of your mind screaming that you don't even know what you’re going to say when you manage to catch up to him, but that doesn’t stop you from putting one foot in front of the other until his large frame comes into view.

“John!” You call. He stops right away, though he hesitates for a moment before turning to face you. His face is relatively expressionless, but there's tension in his jaw.

“You okay..?” You ask. “Where are you going?”

“I’m fine,” he snaps. “I just need some fresh air. Is that okay?” He starts to walk away again, but you reach out and grab him by the hand.

“Is it okay if I come with you? I could use some fresh air, too.”

He pulls his hand out of your grasp – not violently, not harshly, but yet it still stings.

“You sure about that? I would hate to keep you from Torres for too long.” There’s a hint of venom in both his stare and tone. He starts to walk away again, and it takes you a moment to react.

Maybe Joaquín was right, after all.

His strides are long and quick. By the time you start walking after him, he’s already turning the corner of the hallway and out of your sight.

“Fuckin’ hell,” you mutter. You pause long enough to yank off the obnoxious stiletto heels that had been killing your feet since you’d taken your first steps in them tonight. With your shoes in hand, you all but sprint down the hallway after him.

The second that you turn the corner of the hallway, it feels as if you have collided with a brick wall.

A brick wall that smells like sandalwood and cedar.

“Jesus!” John exclaims, barely even stumbling when the front of your body slams into his back. “What the hell are you—”

“I like you,” you interrupt him. His mouth snaps shut, and his eyes go wide. The martini that you you’d finished earlier threatens to come back up, but you swallow and force yourself to continue.

“I like you, John,” you repeat, softer. “I was only dancing with Joaquín because Valentina told me to. I know things have been… weird, ever since Georgia. You can go back to avoiding me like the plague, if that’s what you want. I just needed you to hear—”

The next thing you know, his large, calloused hands are cradling your face and his lips are on yours.

It takes you a second to realize what is happening, but when you do, you're kissing him back like there’s no chance of an unsuspecting stranger walking down this hallway at any moment. You drop your shoes to the floor so that your hands are free to trail up his chest. You grip fistfuls of the satin material of his suit in your hands and pull him closer to you.

Without ever taking his lips off of yours, he backs you against the wall of the corridor. His tongue dances along your bottom lip and you open up for him, your brain turning to static white noise as he slips inside your mouth.

He tilts your head, deepening the kiss. He’s all you feel, smell, and taste – the two of you may as well be the only two people in this entire building right now. It's too easy to forget that you’re at a very public gala, and that any person with a camera could snap a picture of him pinning you against the wall and kissing you senseless.

You let out an involuntarily whimper into his mouth, and he pulls away as if it physically pains him to do so.

“The only reason I’ve been avoiding you like the plague,” he quotes your words, using the pad of his thumb to trace the swell of your bottom lip. “Is because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about doing that for the last month. Ever since you fell asleep with your head on my chest. Ever since I carried you through those woods…”

He trails off, leaning down to bring his lips to yours once more.

This kiss is slower – delicate and intentional in a way that the first one was not. As if he's trying to commit it all to memory. His hands rest on your hips, and yours in the short tufts of his hair.

“This is all I have wanted to do.”

“So…” you start with a nervous laugh. You smooth the fabric of his suit that you had bunched in your fists back to its original state. “You like me too, then..?”

He laughs, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry, did I not make that obvious?”

“Nah. I think I need to hear you say it,” you hum.

He sighs, and then places another gentle, soft peck to your lips that ends sooner than you’d like. “I like you. You drive me crazy, but I like you so much that it hurts.”

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thank you for reading!! comments and reblogs are always appreciated 💕🫶🏻

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mydrink-n-my2step · 27 days ago

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YANDERE FARMER x TWITCH STREAMER READER

A/N: Howdy! I'm back again with a new series. My first ever fanfic series. I hope y'all enjoy, strap that cowboy of yours down and read this.

TW//: Smut, Bathtub masturbation, original character has you jorkin' his peanits, age gap (OC is 20, you are around 25), knives, spiders, teasing

5.8k words

“Fuck!”

Today was supposed to be a lovely day for you. After you had gained 2,000 followers on Twitch, you wanted to celebrate your win with your number one cheerleader: your grandmother. She had already bought you a celebratory cake and some balloons for your little party. Followed by a little gift from her. She had a charm bracelet from James Avery crafted for you with a gaming console and a little heart that says “I love my granddaughter!”

You had left her house over 45 minutes ago. She warned you about leaving at night into the woods. However, you reassured her that you would be fine. The car ride home was somewhat okay, until you saw the car battery light flash. Your car had alerted you as well. You were scared because you were in the middle of nowhere. The nearest Autozone was an hour and thirty minutes away. Shit!

A minute later, you could hear your car sputtering like crazy. It scared you when the car stopped on its tracks, leaving a tire imprint in the dirt road. You punched your car horn in a fit of rage, unaware of the fact that you might let someone or something dangerous know where you were. You retracted, remembering that your ex-boyfriend is a mechanic, and somehow you still had his phone number. Though it was a rocky relationship, you two did come to terms with remaining friends, so having his phone number seemed normal.

Okay, you dialed his phone number, waiting for him to pick up. “Hello?” He responds, sounding tired. You felt bad for calling him at such a late time. Though on the other end, he was busy bumping uglies with another girl he had found at a bar. “Hey, could you come help me? I know it’s on such short notice, but my car broke down in the middle of the woods.” For a moment, the other line went silent. Then, you heard someone click their tongue. “Girl you know how far you are? I’m not going to leave my bed at 11:34 at night to pick your dumbass up!”

“Well fuck you to then!” You said out loud for him to hear you. Then you heard a giggle on the other line. “You wouldn’t help your friend because you’re too busy fucking some other chick!”

“We’re not friends Y/n, I don’t befriend my ex.” was all he said before hanging up on you. Ouch! You wanted to rip your steering wheel of and throw it across the dirt road. Break something or whatever! You were so fucking pissed off at the piece of shit man. But not for long.

Behind you were blaring white lights from a truck that was coming by, you could hear the bass that was boosted, the person behind the wheel was playing Luke Bryan. You were in enemy territory. Pack it up.

Or so you thought? When the person parked in front of you and hopped out of his red and white 1990 Ford-250. Fear instantaneously overwhelmed you. You, a girl in the woods in a broken down car, with a random hooded man walking to it ever so slowly like he was plotting for your death! Okay Y/n, calm down. He’s probably wondering why you’re blocking the road. Maybe he is here to help you, be more optimistic–

Knock Knock!

The man’s gentle knocks still startled you out of your deep thinking. You were scared to roll your window down and talk to him. But the fear decimated a bit when he removed his hoodie. Only his hat covered his eyes and dirty blonde hair, which looked like it wasn’t taken cared of, but who cares.

“Are you lost?” He spoke, however his voice was faint from the window and the sound of his loud ass truck. You furrowed your eyebrows, you were seriously about to cuss this man out right now over your stupid ass ex. The man pointed his fingers down, indicating that he needed you to roll your window down. So you gave up, holding onto the pocket knife you had stolen from your grandma underneath the wheel by your knees, preparing to use it against him.

“Can I help you?”

“I um, see that your car has broken down. Do you feel comfortable coming with me while I tow your car to my place? I can get her fixed for free.”

“Uh, no, that’s ok, sir. I have a tow truck coming for me right now.” You lied, and it was pretty obvious too.

“You sure ‘bout that? Because there are no tow services for 65 miles onward. And nobody normally gets lost in our neck of the woods. Please, you don’t have to lie to me, just let me tow your car, I can get it fixed.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. He had noticed and was close to saying something but bit back his tongue. You exit the car, he held his hand out for you to take, hesitant, you looked at him. He seems to be genuine with his gestures. He took it anyway, walking you to his pickup truck to sit in while he hooks your car up to his truck. Once he was done, he climbed into his truck.

Something about this man calmed your nerves a bit, but at the same time, you wouldn’t let your guard down. Your left hand was still holding onto that pocket knife you took from Grandma’s. Your eyes wouldn’t leave his eyes, his auburn eyes that were finally visible and locked on the road ahead. You, a southern girl, weren’t too shy around country folk, however, you felt intimidated by this hulk of a man. You assumed he was around 6 feet 4, you were pretty tall yourself, and he seemed taller as well.

“What’s on your mind? You’re staring an awfully lot.” He asks, glancing at you for a brief moment before returning his attention to the dirt path. “Oh, um, nothing,” you said, placing the knife by your leg. It was pretty stupid of you to do so, and it was proven stupid when he hit a bump on the road, causing your knife to slice through your pants and skin accidentally. It wasn’t gnarly, but it was enough to bleed through your clothes.

“Shit,” you swore, causing him to stop on his tracks. The tall man faced you, noticing your hand was covered in blood. He sighed, unbuckling his seatbelt and exiting the truck. A few seconds later, you saw him on your side of the truck. He had opened the passenger door, and then he pulled his hoodie over his head, also taking his plain white t-shirt off. He folded it vertically. Wrapping it around your thigh and tying a knot around your thigh. When he was finished, he shut the door on you before you could thank him. He hopped into his seat for the last time, sighing in with an attitude in his tone. As if he told you himself that he wasn’t going to make any more stops until he made it to his house.

The minute he turned his way out the dirt pavement, he pulled into a driveway that led him to his garage. He had pressed a button that opened his garage. When the garage was opened, he drove straight inside, stopping his tracks when he hit something. The taller man had switched his ignition off, taking his seatbelt off to exit his car. You reached for the door and attempted to open it, unbeknownst to you, it had a child safety lock on it. Now you felt like an idiot for deciding to hitch a ride with him. Though you thought it was the end, the end of you, you heard someone open the door to the house: A child.

“Elizabeth, help me unload the trunk.”

“I won’t help unless you say please,” the little girl said, crossing her arms and turning her head away from her likely brother. He rolled his eyes, scoffing at her, “Please, Eliza?”

The girl finally complied, going to the back of the truck to help. When you would see them again, Elizabeth would make eye contact with you. She tilted her head with her eyebrow arched up. “Tannie, who is this girl in your truck tryna get out?”

“Fuck!” the tall man cursed, running to let you out. “You’ll have to forgive me, I have the safety lock on for Douglas.”

“Oh, is Douglas your son?”

“Um, you could say that.” Coincidentally, Elizabeth had opened the door, allowing a big dog to run towards you as you were climbing out of the truck. You nearly screamed when it barked at you. “Dougie, don’t scare our guest like that!” Elizabeth scolded, rubbing her free hand through Douglas’s blue and white fur. Douglas had twirled around and rubbed his wet snout against your hand. He wanted you to pet him. So you did, and were smiling at your action, lying on the floor to allow you to rub his belly.

“Oh, hi sweetie, it’s nice to meet you–um,”

“That’s Douglas, our Blue Heeler.”

“Ah, ok, I thought you had kids.”

“Tanner? Kids? No, he’s too shy around people,” the girl teased, laughing at her brother while he was glaring at her. “Elizabeth, get inside!” The tall man named Tanner said, walking off to tote your bags into his house. You hesitated to follow him inside. Not knowing what your next move was. Would you leave and find someone to take you home? Would you offer to sleep in your car instead of the house?

“Hey, whatcha standing there for? We have to get inside before the coyotes come getcha.” He teased, keeping the door propped open as he closed the garage and left. You had no other option, so your feet started moving, leading you inside the sibling’s house.

“Tanner, where the hell have you been?” A raspy old man’s voice spoke on your left. You turned around to see who it was. Another tall man who, this time, looks roughly in his mid-fifties, had black hair with silver streaks on the side, a thick moustache, and a jaw that screamed Stan Smith looked you up and down. Tanner set your bags on his side, going up to his father, whispering something to him. You noticed how tall the father was, he was merely a few inches shorter than his son. Elizabeth tapped your shoulders, she told you she would take your items into the guest room. You were relieved when you heard “the guest room”, your stressed-out mind finding some peace.

When Tanner was done talking to the older man, said man had walked up to you, apologizing, “My apologies my dear, you’ll have to forgive me, my son here often brings his friends over without my knowledge, but I see that you’re a hitchhiker looking for somewhere to stay while your car get fixed?” You nod, “Not much of a speaker, aren’t ya?”

“I’m very sorry, sir, it’s just been a long day, it’s a little scary being alone on the road in the woods.” You respond, taking in his features and trying to size him up a bit.

“I understand, it’s pretty dangerous out here. Hey Tanner, take the rest of this lady’s bags into the guest room.” The older man walked next to you and placed his arm around your upper back, leading you into his kitchen. He directed you into the dining room, where you assumed his wife was in, couponing. “Amelia, we have company.” He says to his wife. Amelia looked at you, a smile across her mouth.

“Hi there, stranger, nice to meet you!” She said, coming off as teasing. She had stood up, taking you in her embrace. Not wanting to leave her hanging, your arms snake around her back. “What’s your name, dear?” Amelia asks.“It’s Y/n, Y/n L/n.” You heard a gasp behind you. The older adults looked to see who it was, but you didn’t seem to care.

“Son, while you’re over there gasping, why don’t you direct Y/n to her guest room. My name is Dale, if you need anything, Tanner will be willing to assist you. We’re going to turn in, have a good night’s rest Y/n.” Dale says, leading his wife upstairs. Leaving you with Tanner, who only stood there with his mouth wide open and eyes dilated.

“Are you *insert Twitch Streamer name*?”

“Yeah, is there something wrong?”

“I love watching your streams!” He spoke, walking next to you.

“It’s an honor to meet you finally. You got me through high school!”

“High school? I just started streaming a year ago. How old are you?” You jokingly ask, but in all seriousness, you genuinely believe he was up there in his twenties.

“I’m 20!”

“20?” He nods, taking your hands into his bigger, callous hands.

“Yes, I’m 20. It may not seem like it, though. Y’know, you’re entertaining to watch.” He says, taking up the space between the two of you, his amusement at finally meeting his favorite Twitch streamer was making you uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, I think I should lie down. Where’s y’all’s guest room?”

“It’s down the hall, but you don’t have to sleep in that dingy room. You can sleep in my room, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Oh I don’t think that’s necessary, I can sleep in the-“

“It has termites!” He spoke in a hasty tone, he obviously wanted you to sleep with him.

“No, look, I’ll be fine in the guest room. I will only be staying for one night anyway, then I’ll be out of y’all’s hair.”

“Ok, good night then,”

When you entered the family’s guest room, you surveyed their overly decorated room. It had a cute aesthetic that you felt comfortable with as it reminded you of your Grandmother. From the mahogany vanity with cute family collections, to the family portraits that hung on the ribboned wall. Her house is nicely decorated too. One of the first things you had done was remove your bra and stow it in your suitcase, then, you got undressed by their huge mahogany vanity. It was not rare for you to admire yourself in the mirror while you are bare. In fact, it has become a quiet ritual—those still, in-between moments when the world faded and the only gaze upon you was your own. Sometimes, it felt like a kind of worship, not of vanity, but of presence. Of being. You enjoyed seeing yourself in mirrors—not just to catch a glimpse of your shape or the curve of a shoulder, but to witness yourself as you truly are, unguarded and real. And only your eyes could see the true you, not another person.

Until—you noticed a peeping Tom entering your room. Why haven’t you closed the door?

Douglas entered your room with a tennis ball in his mouth. When you acknowledged him, you immediately shut the door behind him. Maybe it was ok for the dog to see you, it’s only a dog. And…on a second thought—maybe not; you hurriedly rummage through your suitcase for your nightgown. Instantly throwing it on. Douglas hopped on your bed, still chewing on his ball. You sat beside him, running your hand through his coat. Looking back at the vanity mirror, you saw that the door was ajar, seeing a pair of auburn eyes watch you watch him.

“Tanner, what are you doing?”

“I umm—-was looking for Douglas. He ran off from my room. There you go Dougie!” He lied, taking the wet ball from him. Douglas cried, rubbing his wet nose against you, signaling that you tell Tanner to give him his ball. “Hey, why don’t you give your puppy his ball back?” Tanner obliged, but only threw the ball out of the room, the two of you watched Douglas scramble through the door, running as if he was a Scooby Doo character.

“I hope you know, I’ve been a subscriber since you were at only 100 subscribers.” He spoke with pride on his tongue. You only cringed at his words, but immediately changed your face when he looked at you with those puppy dog eyes.

“Thank you so much, I appreciate your honesty.” You half fibbed. Cheesing so he wouldn’t see how uncomfortable you were. You really wished at that moment a country bumpkin had picked you up instead of him. “Could we stay up, I want to learn more about you.” He asks, leaning his shoulder against yours before resting his head against yours. “No, actually, it’s pretty late. Why don’t we continue this tomorrow morning when you’re fixing my car.” Tanner sighs in a disappointed tone. He got off of the bed, walking to the door abruptly. He bid his goodbye and told you to sleep well, you told him the same, peeling the covers to crawl in bed then switching the lights.

A little over three hours later, Tanner couldn’t sleep. He had stayed up watching your previous streams on his laptop in his boxers. His fingers dangerously close to his groin as he watches you play your most recent game, Class of ‘09. Normally, he’s not a fan of vulgar content. Matter of fact, he despises vulgar, dark content, often watching your more tame content. As a streamer, you always make sure to check on your 200 viewers, making sure they aren't uncomfortable. One time, he had replied to your comment section, after you had asked what everyone was doing. Tanner mentioned that he was milking his cows while watching you. You, not believing him, merely laughed. He didn’t find it funny, though he loved seeing you laugh, even at him.

When he watches your streams, he feels as though you and him are the only people in the chat. You’re talking to him and ONLY him. As a fan, he felt prideful of having you at his house, sleeping in his guest room too. And maybe you will warm up to the idea of sleeping in his room. You will have to, he’ll make sure of it. Growing bored, he decided to go downstairs to pop his head in your room. Seeing your body rise and lower as you sleep. He wanted a closer look of you, so he creeped inside, making sure to avoid bumping into anything. As he walked closer, he felt a stir in his boxers. Oh God, not this!

He had instantly turned around, walking back into the light. Unaware of you turning to your side to face him. “Tanner?” you spoke, your morning breath prominent. He turned to look at you, you switched the bedside lamp on. Now you were scared again.

“What the hell are you doing in here?”

“I-I, I left my…book in here. That’s why.” He lied straight to your face. He picked up his book, a family bible that was older than you and him combined. You were too tired to argue with him, so you switched the lamp off and went back to sleep. Tanner shut the door for you, his mind begging him to go back inside, even though you were so close to calling for Dale or Amelia. So he ignored his greedy mind, taking himself upstairs to go back to sleep. Later on today, he has some work to take care of on your car.

You for sure saw his pecker.

When you woke up, it was 9:30 am. Your nose could smell hotcakes on the stove. When you turned to the other side, you nearly punched the daylights out of Tanner. “Rise and shine! Mom made some breakfast for you.” You signed, eyes rolling as you sat up in your bed. Your fingers gripped the bridge of your nose, glaring at Tanner as he only smiled at you. Your glare was eating him up.

“I know this is your house, and that you are a big fan of me, but all I ask from you is that you give me some personal space, please, Tanner?” Tanner’s smile faded, his arms crossed as he–pouted at you? Why was he pouting at you?

“Okay, I’m sorry about last night. It wasn’t right for me to bombard your privacy.”

“Or enter the room unannounced twice,” you mumbled, “All I want from you is to fix my car and let me go home.”

“Okay, I’ll get onto that after breakfast.” Tanner leaves the guest room, keeping it wide open so everyone could see you. Elizabeth was in the kitchen with her mom, she noticed you exiting the guest room a little peeved. “Good morning, how did you sleep last night?” She asks, giving you a plate of hotcakes and bacon. “I slept fine, I just kept having a few visits at night.” You didn’t tell her who, so she assumed Douglas wanted to sleep with you.

“Douglas can be a handful. Come and sit with us, darling.” Amelia says, pressing her hand on your back and walking you to the dining room table. There, Tanner and Dale were talking about what work needed to be done on the car. You could tell it was their passion by how they were passionately arguing with each other on what to do to start your car battery. Once you sat down, the argument ended, Tanner had ignored his father while scooting his chair and plate to you. You gulped down your last remaining spit as your mouth was severely dry. Amelia had sent over a pitcher of orange juice for y’all to drink, so you immediately got a glass of that.

“Oh, good morning Y/n, it’s nice to see you and Tanner have made acquaintances.” Dale assumes. Tanner smiled at you, his big hand taking yours. You hastily removed your hand from his. Though he was visibly embarrassed, he still kept his smile on his face. “When breakfast is over, we will start working on your car. Imma need your keys by the way.” Dale continued.

“Thank you sir, I really appreciate the hospitality from y’all.” You really did. The family were extremely kind and were at access to your needs. “Well we appreciate the company. It’s only been a couple of hours, and you’ve already gotten Tanner out of his shell.” Amelia jokes, causing her family to laugh. You tried to ignore Tanner’s admiring stare at you, but your skin was burning from his stare. What was with this boy?

“Pop the hood, let’s see what we’re working with,” Dale told his son, watching Tanner open your car’s hood. He obliged, propping it open, being welcomed by the car’s problem. The fuse had blown. Not to worry though, the Jeffersons had plenty of unused car parts in their shed.

“I’ll go grab the thing and my tools, go tell Y/n what the problem is.” Dale responds, leaving his son to go behind his house. Ignorant to what his son was going to do.

Watching for his father, making sure he was leaving, Tanner had the opportunity to pull your pocket knife out. He stole it while you were asleep. He rubbed his index finger against the blade, making sure it was sharp enough to cut. He looked at his cut skin, seeing the blood threaten to trickle from his finger. He had to hurry, his dad knew where all the car parts were, he’ll be back soon.

He pulled out a random red wire, cutting it with ease. Before he heard his dad’s boots against the crunched up leaves, he stowed your knife into his pants pocket. Dale returned, unaware of what his son was doing. Tanner was the car mechanic; he knew more than anyone, so Dale assumed his son was analyzing the situation.

“Dad, we’ve got bad news.”

“What is it, son?”

“There’s a cut wire.”

“Damn, have you told Y/n yet? Or I’ll go tell her?”

“No, I’ve got it.” Tanner ran into his house. When he shut the door lightly, he tried to contain his smile, he was pretty proud of himself. Taking that risk so you could stay with him longer. His dad would assume that the wire was cut by a hooligan, and he’ll have to order a new wire and have another person fix your car. Now you’ll HAVE to stay with him.

*Knock Knock*

You opened your door, rolling your eyes when you saw Tanner again. You’re going to have to get over it soon. “How may I help you?”

“Y/n, bad news: your battery has blown a fuse, and there’s a cut wire. We currently have no spare wires so Dad is going to order one.”

Damn it, you curse in your brain. Your hopes of leaving this weirdo fan forever squashed by someone who was a bitch enough to cut your wire. You couldn’t help but cry a bit. Like literal tears were streaming from your face. Tanner, obviously consoling you in his muscular arms, rubbing his hand against your hair.

“I know you want to leave so bad. Leave me—to go back and make videos for us. But I’m sorry.”

You wrapped your arms around his thick torso. He felt as though the wind was knocked out of him because of you. What were you doing to him? He rubs your back, feeling your bare back, you still had no bra on. You still had no bra on!

He prayed for his body to reject his arousal. Thinking of weird things to get rid of those lewd thoughts. When he felt secured, he let go of you, looking down to make sure it wasn’t there.

“If it makes you feel any better, would you like to go visit some place with me?”

“Where, Tanner?”

Tanner had stopped his truck by a log that prevented him from going any further. When he got out of his car, walking in front to let you out, he opened the truck door, letting you out. When your feet were on the ground, he took your hand into his, leading you to the little pond boardwalk.

“I know you’re pretty tense right now, so I decided to take you to my favorite place to wind down. There’s no one around to bother us.”

“Oh, ok, thank you,” you said, sitting down on the boardwalk. Not aware of Tanner toting foldable chairs for you two. “I've got chairs if you want to sit comfortably.” He says, propping one open, then going for the next one. “You stood up, taking the chair next to him. Tanner leans back, his head hanging from the seat. You watch him, earning a smile on his lips. Something in you started to feel off. His juvenile smile, dusty blond hair, and his hulking build on a childish man. Fanboy behavior fighting his shy demeanor, his admiration towards you. Somehow, you didn’t abhor his admiration, you just wish he were less of a nuisance.

You weren’t aware, but you were staring at his sleeping body. Watching him breathe lightly as he napped. You didn’t want to stoop to his level of “admiration”, so you pulled your phone out and scrolled through your notifications. You took another look at him, this time scared.

“Tanner? Hey Tanner, wake up, hon!” Tanner’s eyelids pried open. “Something’s tickling my leg.” He says, disoriented. “I know, there’s a big ass spider on your leg.” Instantly, he jumped up, kicking the spider off his pant leg. You hopped out of your seat as well, your body shaking from the big wolf spider that was still crawling up his leg. The hairs on his body erected as the eight-legged heathen gradually crawled up his calf. And suddenly, you did the unthinkable, you told him to stay still so the spider would get flicked by your phone. He obliged, not moving a muscle, not breathing while he stood absolutely still. When your phone picked the spider up, it crawled on your screen, and then you flicked it off, causing it to land in the water below.

Without warning, Tanner wraps his bulky arms around your body and lifts you clean off the boardwalk like you weigh nothing. One second you were steady, the next your feet dangled in the air, heart skipping a beat at the sudden closeness. His scent hits you–clean sweat, his mother’s linen softener, the wooden smell of his cologne, something warm and alive. His grip was firm, a little too tight, but not uncomfortable. Just present—unshakably there.

Only did he realize that he was holding you in the air like he would to Douglas. Right hand on lower back, left on upper. He puts you down gently, clearing his throat as he is rendered uncomfortable with his actions. “Thanks,” he murmurs near your ear, voice low and rough with adrenaline. “For flicking it off.”

You acknowledged how rattled he still was. His thick fingers twitch against your back like the ghost of the spider had climbed there, and his breath fans your neck–hot, uneven. “You saved my ass,” he adds, and though it was half a joke, there’s a real edge in it. Like for a second, the spider wasn’t the only thing crawling under his skin.

“It’s okay, you seem tense, let me drive you home so you can take a bath. That usually calms my nerves.”

In the guest bathroom, you turned the bath water on. Running your hand under the cold water as it gradually turned hot. Tanner had waited for you on the bathroom’s vanity chair. When you weren’t looking, he locked the bathroom door swiftly. Once the water became hot, you told him to strip off his clothing. You were about to leave the bathroom when he took your hand and gestured for you to sit on his chair. What you were about to see was not something you agreed to. Tanner unbuttons his flannel and removes it, then along came his white t-shirt, and before he could start unbuckling his pants, you stopped him by placing your hand on his. “Honey, let me go so you can undress.”

“You’re still…coming back right?” You sigh once more, pinching your nose in shame. Do I really want to deal with this right now?

“Yes, dear, I’ll be back.”

When you returned, he was already in the bubbly water, waiting for you with that smug look you knew too well. His legs were hanging out of the tub, and the dusty blonde tips of his hair were wet. You rolled your eyes, and he chuckled, arms lounging lazily along the rim of the tub.

You grabbed his washcloth and soap, dipping both into the water until the cloth foamed. He watched you with a smirk as you worked—first lathering his arm, then his chest. When you leaned in closer, he tilted his head toward your ear and whispered, “This is your idea of multitasking? Bathing me and torturing me at the same time?”

His teasing made you sigh and pull your hand away. He groaned dramatically—half-laugh, half-whine—and caught your wrist gently. “Hey,” he said, grinning, guiding your hand back. In the moment of tugging and half-resisting, your fingers slipped somewhere you hadn’t intended.

You both froze, then burst into awkward laughter. “That–I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry!” you muttered.

“Maybe it meant to happen,” he replied, eyes glinting, but his voice stayed soft, leaving the moment open—for you to decide where it would go next. When you continued your bathing, he stopped you, taking your hand and gliding it down into the bubbly water. You didn’t retract, only watching his molasses pupils take control of you. While your hand grasped his, y’know, you were shocked at how thick it was. He was a pretty big guy, maybe that’s why.

Suddenly, the room grew silent—and hot. The hot water that caused his skin to sweat also turned it pink. But that wasn’t the only pink on him. While he had your hand on his shaft, the warm water lapped gently around you both. Tanner’s breath hitched when you started jerking him off, muscles tightening above and beneath your touch. When he had the courage, he leaned closer to your mouth, wetting his lips while you were still touching him. He let his hand maneuver your head to face him, and then, he pressed his thinner, cherub pink lips against yours.

Tanner allowed his tongue to invade your mouth, teasing your slimy tongue with his. Your lips parted enough for him to play with your mouth with his pink organ. You had slowed your progress on his cock, distracted by the kiss. Tanner noticed right away, cupping your cheeks with his bear hands, “Please, don’t go anymore slower.” He had rested his forehead against yours, “I need you, Y/n, I need you so bad.”

What you were feeling wasn’t annoyance anymore. It was a mixture of multiple conflicting feelings. You were scared of being outed as someone who jerks off fans. And you feared that Tanner would tell people, even show it. But you couldn’t control your urges FUCKING hell you wanted this man and you can’t deny it anymore. From his chivalric behavior the other night to this, if your moral compass wasn’t the way it was, so conservative, so forbidding, you would’ve toppled this guy the night he came into your room.

It was only day one of you staying over at the Jeffersons, who knows how long you will be staying with this family. But here you are, pleasuring the eldest child. What is wrong with you?

Tanner was almost close; you could sense it. From him tightening his butt to his head thrown back against the tile wall. He had unlocked his jaw to moan, damn he moans like a girl, you thought, causing you to feel a twinged down your south tinseltown. He had you in his clutch, figuratively and literally, his strong hands holding your arms. He nearly cried from his pleasure, his body tensing up. And all of a sudden, you felt warm juices on your fist. Then on your cheek, you saw his cum dribble from his cock, and then came the orgasm thoughts that became words.

“I love you, Y/n, always have!” You pressed your finger against his mouth, realizing that someone had entered the guest room. “Tanner? Ms. Y/n? Where the hell are y’all?” It was Dale. You scurried into the towel closet, hoping Dale wouldn’t persecute you for what you’d done.

“Son, are you in here? I heard some weird noise, just say something so I can go back to what I was doing, I don’t want to confront you right now.”

“Yes, Dad, it’s me, I’m taking a bath!” Tanner yelled, taking the washcloth and finishing his wash. Dale responds with an ok, leaving the guest room and shutting the door behind him. “Hey, you can exit the towel closet now,” Tanner says, rubbing himself with the soap. You exit the closet, “You do realize that now you have to take another bath?”

“Yeah, and maybe,” Tanner stood up, he leaned to grab his towel from the towel rack, wrapping it around his torso, “you’ll join me?” You scoffed at his response, opening the door and leaving the room.

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mssishipi · 2 months ago

Text

TASTE OF INDULGENCE

CHAPTER 4 — SHOW ME SPICY

Avoidance was your only way to move forward, but Jay and Jake weren’t about to let you slip away so easily. How could you pretend you didn’t want them when your body told a different story? If you wanted to play stubborn, fine. But brats don’t get to run—they get put in their place. And they were more than ready to show you exactly what spicy really meant.

content tags: everyone is gay or fruity!!! angst! reader is self sabotaging, she made jake cry, jay is angry (and stressed), let's play back to friends by sombr, psych majors who don't know how to communicate, reader assume sunghoon's sexuality, reader cuts her hair short, jay's pov, sunoo is just sunoo.

explicit content (smut): uhm threesome (switch jake, rough mean dom jay, sub reader), dubcon!!! public sex, unprotected sex, humiliation (?), dacryphilia, rough throat fucking, cunillingus, jake tried to be angry but went soft, overstimulation, double vaginal penetration, creampie, anal sex (mxm). MDNI! WC: 21.5K

want a taste?

"I think red nails would look good on me, don't you think?" You flipped your hand over, inspecting your nails with a thoughtful look.

Sunoo barely glanced up from his phone before reaching out to grab your hand, tilting it side to side. "Hmm... Maroon, definitely. With silver designs," he decided with a nod.

"Almond shape?" you asked, watching his expression closely.

Sunoo furrowed his brows, eyes drifting toward the ceiling as he considered. "Square could work too... gives that classic, clean look. But yeah, almond is a solid choice. It'll look good when you're, like, casually reaching for things."

"Okay, I should set an appointment with the nail tech Wonyoung keeps talking about," you mused, already pulling out your phone. As you both walked past a full-length mirror in the store, you stopped in your tracks, turning your head slightly to get a better look at yourself.

"Maybe I should cut my hair, no?" You ran your fingers through the strands, tilting your head as if trying to picture it. "Or maybe I should dye it? What color do you suggest?"

Sunoo looked up from his phone, finally giving you his full attention. His mouth was slightly open, eyes squinting as he observed you.

"I tried a new makeup style today," you continued, adjusting your reflection with your fingers. "I don't know if it suits me yet, but if I cut my hair, maybe it would. This length would be good, right?" You pointed just below your ears, mentally mapping out the bob cut you were suddenly considering.

Sunoo blinked, then gasped dramatically. "You're planning to get a bob cut, bitch? Are you fucking serious?!"

You raised an eyebrow at his tone. "What? You don't think it would look good?"

He placed both hands on your shoulders like he was about to shake some sense into you. "Do you have any idea what a bob cut means?"

You laughed, shaking him off. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Short hair on a hot girl?" Sunoo huffed, crossing his arms. "That's a crisis cut. A post-breakup cut. A someone just emotionally wrecked me and I need a fresh start cut!"

You rolled your eyes, but your smile faltered slightly. "Maybe I just want a change."

Sunoo wasn't buying it. He crossed his arms, his expression shifting into something more serious. "Yeah, right." He paused before adding, "By the way, Jake keeps texting me, asking when our vacant period is. He says you're not replying to them."

Your steps faltered, but you quickly regained composure. "I already told them I'm busy," you said, forcing a casual shrug. "Our internship is coming up next year, so I have to start networking now. I need professors to recommend me to the best hospitals—ones that actually offer jobs after the internship."

Sunoo narrowed his eyes. "That's a solid excuse, I'll give you that. But babe, you're literally ghosting them."

"I'm not ghosting."

"Bitch." Sunoo deadpanned. "You left them on read for two weeks."

"Because I'm not in the mood to fuck them anymore," you said flatly, resuming your pace.

Sunoo gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. "Oh my god. The coldness. The absolute heartlessness." Then, his voice softened. "Babe, you sound like a total bitch right now, but I know you. And I know there's a reason you cried that night."

You exhaled sharply, staring straight ahead.

"I'm your friend," Sunoo continued, his tone gentler now. "You can tell me if they hurt you. Did they do something? Say something? I mean, yeah, they're my friends too now, but you know I'll always have your back first. So tell me."

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "It's not like that. They didn't do anything."

"I just... I don't know, Sunoo." You stopped walking, running a frustrated hand through your hair. "I thought I could handle it. I thought it would be easy to keep things casual. But the longer I stayed, the harder it got. Now, it just fucking hurts."

Sunoo crossed his arms, watching you carefully. "You like them."

"Sunoo—"

"You like them," he repeated, this time with certainty. "Not just one of them. Both of them."

Your throat felt tight. "It doesn't matter."

Sunoo scoffed. "It matters if it's eating you up like this."

You swallowed, avoiding his gaze. "I was never supposed to catch feelings."

Sunoo let out a long breath, his expression softening. "You're human, dumbass. Not a fucking robot. It was bound to happen."

"It doesn't change anything." Your fingers clenched at the hem of your uniform. "It's just—fuck. I don't even know where I stand with them. I mean, they're sweet, they treat me so well. Who wouldn't fall for them?" You let out a bitter chuckle. "But that's the thing, isn't it? I don't know if it means anything."

Sunoo tilted his head, watching you carefully. "Have you told them how you feel?"

"What for?" You scoffed. "So I can humiliate myself? So I can hear them say, 'Oh, that's cute, but we never actually saw you that way'?" You let out a hollow laugh. "No, thanks."

Sunoo pursed his lips. "You don't know that's what they'd say."

You exhaled sharply, tilting your head back. "It doesn't matter, Sunoo. Because even if—if—they felt something, it wouldn't change the fact that I'm still just an extra in their relationship. They've had each other for years. I'm just..." Your voice faltered, and you forced a small smile. "Temporary."

"Babe," Sunoo frowned. "That's a really shitty way to look at it."

"Is it?" You met his eyes, voice quieter now. "Or is it just reality?"

Sunoo sighed, rubbing his temple. "I'm saying, maybe just tell them what you feel. Communicate—"

"No." You cut him off, shaking your head. "It's better to just move forward. Cut them off and be done with it." Your voice wavered, but you quickly steadied yourself. "As I said, even if they did feel something, it wouldn't change anything." You swallowed the lump in your throat, "I'll just consider them a hookup. That's all they were supposed to be anyway."

Sunoo huffed. "Look, babe. You wouldn't be spiraling over them, trying to change your hair, your nails, your entire damn life just to get away from the way they made you feel." He sighed again. "I get it. Feelings suck. But lying to yourself? That's worse."

You exhaled sharply, looking away. "It doesn't matter, Sunoo."

"It does matter." He poked your forehead. "And sooner or later, you're gonna have to face it."

Well, too bad because Sunoo didn't have a choice but to deal with your stubbornness. He had seen you shut down before, had watched you bury your emotions so deep that even you forgot they existed.

Avoidance was the only way. Cutting them off was the only way. If you ever told them the truth, it wouldn't change anything. If they did feel something for you, it still wouldn't matter. Because being together with two guys? It wasn't realistic.

Jake and Jay were perfect together—enough for each other. Their love was already deep, already established, already real.

You were just an afterthought, a temporary distraction, a spice added to their relationship to make things more exciting for a while.

That was why you had to let it go. Because holding on would only break you more.

Avoidance was the only option. But that didn't mean it was easy.

You shared three majors with them, which meant there was no real escape. Every time Jay or Jake tried to talk to you, you scrambled for a half-baked excuse, something—anything—to put distance between you.

And you felt guilty. Because at this point, you weren't just avoiding them, you were leaving Sunoo to deal with the fallout.

Every. Single. Time.

"Sorry, I already made plans to get my nails done," you said, forcing a smile as Jake grabbed your arm after your laboratory class, trying to pull you toward the arcade.

"We can just go with you!" Jake perked up immediately, his eyes practically sparkling at the idea. He turned to Jay, beaming. "Right?!"

Jay, as always, was quieter, but his gaze was on you.

You resisted the urge to sigh. "Uh—actually, I'm going with my other friends."

Beside you, Sunoo tensed, trying not to roll his eyes so hard they got stuck.

"Then Sunoo can go with you guys," you added quickly, shoving the attention onto him.

Sunoo's head snapped toward you so fast, "Excuse me?" His expression was pure betrayal.

Jake blinked, tilting his head. "Wait. Sunoo's not going with you to get your nails done?"

"Nope!" Sunoo answered before you could. "Because I'll be with you guys. Losing all my money on rigged machines. Can't wait!"

He hooked his arms through Jake and Jay's, dragging them away before you could say another word. But not before shooting you a sharp, knowing look.

Avoidance was the only option, but it was hard.

It was almost funny, how desperately you were trying to erase them from your life, only for your own mind to betray you at every turn.

Jay's lips were always dry. Did he ever listen and start using the lip balm you recommended? Or was he still stubborn about it?

Jake had a terrible habit of not drinking enough water, always running on boundless energy until he inevitably crashed. You wondered if Jay kept that in mind—if he reminded him to drink more, if he handed him a bottle without a word, the way you used to.

Not your problem anymore.

"Your nails are so pretty!!!" Wonyoung screeched, grabbing your hand and turning it under the flashing club lights. The silver designs shimmered, catching every flicker of neon.

"Thank you," you muttered, tipping back your drink without hesitation. The alcohol burned down your throat, but you welcomed it. Anything to dull the edges. Sunoo sat beside you, talking how he wants to have sex tonight.

Another drink. Then another. By the time the rest of your friends arrived, your head was already buzzing, you can't even keep up with the conversation anymore. You laughed at the right moments, nodded when necessary, but your mind was elsewhere.

"Can you recommend a good waterproof mascara?" you mumbled, resting your head against Sunghoon's shoulder.

He exhaled through his nose, clearly unimpressed with your state. "I don't know? Maybelline, I guess? Or some Japanese brand—those are good too."

"You're gay," you giggled, voice slightly slurred.

Sunghoon scoffed, shifting slightly so you didn't slide off him. "How the fuck is that gay?"

"You just know things." You poked his chest, eyes drooping.

"It's called having sisters, dumbass," he deadpanned.

You giggled, the alcohol making everything funnier than it should be. "Hehehe, ever since you joined our group, you've had this, like... boy love energy."

"I'm not into boy love," he muttered, taking a sip of his drink.

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your chest. "Oh my god. You're homophobic."

Sunghoon choked on his drink so hard he nearly spit it out. "What?! Where the fuck did you get that from?"

"How are you not into boy love?" You slurred, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Boy love is great. It's wholesome, it's cute, it's—"

Your voice cracked and your lips wobbled, remembering Jay and Jake. Suddenly, your eyes burned.

You sniffled. Sunghoon, who had been mid-rant about how you made no sense, suddenly froze. He stared at you, wide-eyed.

"Hey... are you—are you crying?"

You sniffled, waving a hand dramatically. "I miss them."

Sunghoon blinked. "Miss who?"

"Boy love!" you wailed, smacking the table. "Boy love is so cute! It makes me so jealous! Agh—fuck! How can you not like boy love?! I miss seeing some boy love, but it hurts seeing some boy love!"

"Bro, what the fuck are you talking about?"

You sniffled harder, rubbing your eyes aggressively. "It's so unfair. Why are they so perfect together? Why can't I just be happy watching them be happy?!"

Sunghoon, still utterly baffled, slowly turned his head, scanning the club for someone or anyone to deal with your mess. His gaze landed on Sunoo, who was currently twerking in the middle of the dance floor, hyping himself up with your other friends.

"It's really hard to avoid them," you hiccupped, wiping at your face with the back of your hand. "I miss them."

Sunghoon let out a slow breath. "Uh-huh."

"I'm making the right decision, right?" you asked, eyes wide and desperate, like you were begging him to validate your self-sabotage.

He scratched his head awkwardly. "Uh... yeah?"

"Yes," you repeated, sniffling. "I'm right. They'll stop. They'll forget me. They'll live happily ever after."

Sunghoon nodded again, then you let out a wobbly sigh. "I will also forget about them," you declared, before promptly bursting into tears again.

You wiped your nose aggressively. "I'll just go back to my old self. No more stupid feelings, no more heartbreak, no more—no more them."

He gave you a cautious thumbs-up. "Sounds... healthy."

"I'll just masturbate with my vibrator," you continued, completely ignoring him. "At least my vibrator doesn't make my heart hurt."

Sunghoon groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Jesus Christ."

"Women can over-complicate things, and that's because they go deeper—sometimes too deep, admittedly."

Yes. Exactly. To avoid over-complicating things, avoidance was the only solution.

You were just walking down the hallway, minding your own business, when a hand suddenly grabbed yours.

You yelped, eyes widening. "What the—?!"

Before you could even react, you were being pulled, not roughly, but firmly, until you stumbled into an empty mini-theater room. The door clicked shut behind you, and your heart pounded as you whipped around.

"Jake?"

He was standing there, hand still wrapped around your wrist, brows furrowed, lips pressed into a tight line. His usual playful energy was nowhere to be found.

The room was too quiet and intimate. The only sound was the distant hum of the campus outside, muffled by thick walls, the kind that trapped secrets and held them hostage. Your pulse was a dull roar in your ears as you stared at him.

God, you missed him. The playful lilt of his voice, the way he always smelled like clean laundry and something unmistakably Jake. You missed the way he touched you—soft, then rough, then soft again. You missed them. Him and Jay.

Your chest tightened, instead you swallowed, immediately trying to pull away. "Jake. Let go."

His fingers twitched against your skin, like he was debating something—like he wanted to hold on a second longer, just in case you changed your mind. But then, finally, he released you, but he didn't step back.

He was still too close.

"You are avoiding us." He said, wounded by frustration. "Why?"

Panic coiled inside you, what the fuck. You weren't ready for this. Your thoughts scrambled, reaching for an excuse, anything—anything—that would make him back off. Think. Think. Think.

But then Jake's face softened, and he exhaled shakily, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry if we did something wrong," he said. "Just—please, talk to us. If you don't want to have sex anymore, that's okay. I understand. We understand." He took a step closer, voice cracking slightly. "Just don't shut us out, please."

Fuck. You almost caved. Jake have this eyes that knew exactly how to weaken you, but you spent enough time to hardened yourself. Pulled your walls up so high that even you couldn't see over them.

Lied through your fucking teeth.

You crossed your arms, forcing a blank expression. "I'm busy, Jake. I don't have time to play around with you two anymore."

Jake blinked, hurt was flashed across his face. "P-Play around?, I-Is that what this was to you?"

You scoffed, "What else would it be?"

Jake's expression twisted, like your words had physically knocked the breath out of him. Good. Maybe he'd finally get the hint.

"Look, Jake." You forced yourself to keep your voice steady, swallowing down the lump clawing its way up your throat. "I don't want to be mean, but get a fucking clue. Okay? Yes, I'm avoiding you. You and Jay were fun. The sex was good. But that's all it ever was."

Jake inhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. His eyes, still locked onto yours. "Just explain to us, why?"

"I don't owe you an explanation in the first place!" you snapped, voice rising despite yourself. You could feel your resolve cracking, your emotions clawing their way to the surface. But you couldn't let them win. You couldn't let him see you break.

Lied through your fucking teeth.

"I got tired of it, okay?!"

Jake's breath came out unsteady. "You could've just told us," he said, "I-Instead of... this—instead of just shutting us out like we never meant anything. We're friends, r-right?"

That last word came out, and his voice cracking, and that was what almost broke you.

Because Jake was looking at you like he was desperate to understand, like he needed you to say something—anything that could make this all make sense.

"Friends?" You let out a cold, hollow laugh, tilting your head like he'd just said something stupid. "Jake, we were never friends."

The second the words left your mouth, Jake flinched, his breath stuttering. His entire body stiffened, his shoulders curling inward.

"Don't say that," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You don't mean that."

You clenched your jaw so hard it ached. "I do."

Jake swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he stared at you like he was trying to see through the wall you'd just slammed between you. Like if he looked hard enough, he'd find something—some sign that you were lying.

But he wouldn't. Because you were good at this. You were good at pretending.

"Just tell me why," he tried again, softer this time, more pleading than before. "If you ever cared about us at all, just... tell me why you're doing this."

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, nails biting into your palms, your entire body screamed at you to stop, to take it all back, to fix this.

But you couldn't. You forced out a sigh, rolling your eyes. "God, Jake, you're so clingy." Jake flinched, and you saw the exact moment something in him cracked.

"You took everything way too seriously," you continued. "It was just sex. I don't know what the fuck you thought this was, but it wasn't deep."

"You were convenient," you added, twisting the knife deeper. "That's all. And now? I'm over it."

Jake sucked in a breath, his shoulders stiffening. You noticed the way his lips trembled. And then slowly—he nodded.

Tears streaked his cheeks, but he didn't wipe them away. He didn't lash out. He didn't beg. He just looked at you—looked through you—his expression heartbreakingly soft despite everything.

Jake didn't yell. He didn't curse you out, didn't demand answers or call you a liar. Instead, he just stood there, letting the weight of your words settle between you. His eyes were soft—too soft, filled with a quiet kind of devastation that made your stomach churn.

Without another word, he turned and walked away. The door clicked shut behind him, and that was it.

Your body sagged the moment he was gone, like the strings holding you together had been severed. You sucked in a breath, trying to steady yourself, but the air felt suffocating. Your hands trembled at your sides, your fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out, to pull him back.

Don't break down. Don't be weak. You did what needed to be done.

One minute. Just one minute to get yourself together.

Your heart pounded against your ribs, your throat burned from holding back something that wanted to crawl out, guilt, regret, longing, you didn't know. Didn't want to know.

Then, finally, you exhaled. Straightened your back. Set your shoulders and walked out.

The hallway was quiet, but not empty.

Your steps faltered as you saw them—Jake, standing there with his back slightly hunched, his hands gripping the hem of Jay's uniform. His shoulders shook and his breathing uneven.

And Jay stood right in front of him, tense and rigid, watching him with a concern expression. His fists were clenched, but his hands hovered just slightly—like he wanted to touch Jake, to comfort him, but didn't know how.

And when he looked up, his eyes found yours. The softness that was there for Jake was gone.

Jay's gaze was dark, sharp, and cold in a way that made your breath hitch. There was no visible anger, just an overwhelming quiet rage simmering.

Your pulse kicked up, you immediately turned away to avoid his gaze.

Spun on your heel and walked in the opposite direction, forcing your steps to be even, controlled. Ignoring the way your chest ached, the way your throat felt tight, the way your lungs felt like they couldn't get enough air.

You did the right thing.

BACK in high school, Jay never really liked being around too many people. He wasn't exactly antisocial, he could hold a conversation when needed, and he got along fine with classmates.

But having a solid group of friends wasn't his thing. Socializing felt like a chore, something that drained him. It was exhausting trying to keep up with people's expectations, their small talk, their unnecessary drama. So, he kept his distance, floating between different groups without ever fully settling in.

Girls, especially, were a whole different kind of exhausting. He wasn't clueless—he knew most of the guys in his class were obsessed with them, always whispering about who had the best tits, passing around porn links like they were trading cards.

Sure, Jay could admit that women were attractive. Sexy, even. Tits were nice, pussy was great. But in his experience, being around women felt more like a headache than a pleasure.

They were too complex, too hard to figure out. One moment they were sweet, the next they were upset over something he didn't even understand. And somehow, he was always expected to know why. It was frustrating. The high-pitched screeching in the hallways, the emotional rollercoasters, the way they'd take out their bad moods on him for no reason—it was all too much.

So, he stayed detached. Women were beautiful, but from a distance. Up close, they were just another thing he didn't have the patience to deal with.

"Did I just... get rejected?"

Jay barely had a second to process before the words came tumbling out from the stranger standing in front of him. The guy was wearing a soccer jersey, his eyes red-rimmed like he'd been crying for a while.

Jay raised an eyebrow, not sure why he was being dragged into this. He didn't even know the guy.

"Do you think I'm ugly?" the stranger asked, pouting up at him like some kicked puppy.

Jay gave him a once-over. The guy was about his height, maybe a little smaller, with messy hair and wide, golden-retriever eyes that only made his pathetic expression worse.

"She said I give the best head," the guy continued, sniffling. "But, continue to say some monologue that it's not me, it's her. What does it even mean?"

Jay sighed, running a hand down his face as he stared at the sky. Out of all the people this guy could've dumped his sob story on, why him? He just wanted to go home, lay in bed, and maybe practice a few guitar solos, not babysit some heartbroken stranger.

And that's how he met Jake.

If Jay was being honest, Jake could be a lot to handle. He was loud, clingy, and had the attention span of a golden retriever, but somehow, they just worked.

They balanced each other out in a way Jay never expected. They didn't argue much, jealousy was never an issue, and even when they weren't in the mood to deal with each other, they just shrugged it off—no drama, no unnecessary fights.

And Jay loved him. So much that he followed him to university, enrolling in the same classes just to be with him.

That was why, when Jake first brought up the idea of a threesome, Jay had been flabbergasted. He wasn't the sharing type. He was possessive by nature, and the thought of someone else touching his Jake made his blood boil. But Jake was patient, communicating his feelings in the only way he knew how: between tangled sheets.

It took months for Jay to even consider it. He didn't know what to think, didn't know if he'd be okay with it. Whether it was another guy or a girl, the thought of it made him wary.

Then, one day, he and Jake went out to his favorite café, and that's when he noticed you.

You weren't looking at him. You were looking at Jake. Staring—too long, too obvious.

Jay's eyebrow twitched. He knew exactly where he had seen you before.

You were the girl at the freshmen welcoming party, kissing random girls like it was nothing, completely lost in the haze of alcohol. He remembered the way you moaned when two girls did body shots off your stomach. You were that drunk—so far gone that, by the end of the night, it was him and Jake who had been instructed to carry you back to your dorm.

And now here you were, staring at his boyfriend.

You like guys too?

He huffed, raising an eyebrow when he caught you looking.

Then there was the train ride during the retreat. Another moment. Another time you stared at Jake when you thought no one was looking.

Jay had noticed.

"Do you think she's into threesomes?" Jake had whispered to him that night, curiosity practically dripping from his voice. He was always like this—open, playful, intrigued by new experiences.

Jay had just sighed, brushing the thought aside. "How would I know?"

He didn't think about it much after that. At least, not until he saw you sneak out of the drinking room at the retreat.

And for some reason, he followed.

He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was suspicion, or maybe it was something else. And that's when he saw you grinding against some guy named Heeseung, lips locked in a messy kiss, your whimpers barely muffled by the night air.

Jay's fists clenched at his sides. He should've turned back. Should've left. But instead, he stood there, watching.

And fuck, he didn't expect his pants to feel this tight.

Jay thought you were beautiful. Not just in the obvious way—yeah, you had the kind of face that turned heads, but it was more than that. You had this energy, this pull, something that made people gravitate toward you like you were a magnet. And Jay had always been the type to keep his distance, to stay in control, but even he wasn't immune to it.

And he knew Jake wasn't either.

Jake was naturally affectionate, clingy even, but with you, it was different. He paid attention in a way Jay had never seen before, like he was cataloging every little thing about you.

"She likes soft textures," Jake mused, scanning the shelves of the convenience store. He grabbed a puff pastry filled with chocolate and strawberry, tossing it into their basket. "She'd like this."

Jay raised a brow, watching as Jake continued down the aisle, muttering to himself.

"I think we should get makeup wipes," Jake said, grabbing a pack without hesitation. "She uses this brand, right?"

Jay exhaled through his nose, amused. "Since when did you memorize her entire skincare routine?"

Jake shrugged, grinning. "Since she started leaving her stuff at our place."

That part was true. At first, it had been little things, a stray hair tie, a forgotten hoodie—but now there was a whole section of their bathroom cabinet stocked with your products. Your shampoo was in their shower. Your chapstick was on the nightstand. Your presence was everywhere, lingering like the scent of your perfume.

It annoyed him, how easily you captured Jake's attention, how effortlessly you slipped into their dynamic like you'd always belonged there. Jay had never been the jealous type, not really, but something about the way Jake gravitated toward you, the way he paid attention to you in ways that felt too careful made something uneasy settle in his chest.

But over time, Jay realized it wasn't just Jake.

He found himself watching you more often than he cared to admit, listening when you talked, remembering the small details about you without even trying.

He started noticing things—how you always smelled like vanilla and something sweet, how your nose scrunched up when you were focused, how your lips parted slightly when you were about to tease someone. It wasn't just Jake who was drawn to you. Jay was, too.

"Men have different parts in their brain," their professor droned on at the front of the lecture hall, pacing slowly as he gestured to the board. "It's an anatomical difference that affects communication—"

Jay barely heard the rest. Instead, his attention drifted to you, slumped against Sunoo's shoulder, your mouth slightly open as you slept. Sunoo was just as bad, his head tilted against yours, completely knocked out.

Jay huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

The two of you looked ridiculous, but for some reason, he felt that same annoying warmth in his chest that he'd been trying to ignore. The same feeling that made him buy your favorite snacks at the convenience store without thinking. The same feeling that had him listening a little too intently whenever Jake talked about you.

"Anatomical difference, my ass. Men just use their dicks instead of their mouths, that's why they're assholes," Yunjin muttered, typing away on her laptop while half-listening to the lecture.

Jay didn't agree with that. He knew men communicated—just differently. Maybe not with words the way women did, but through actions and through presence.

Like how Jake never outright said he wanted you, but always found an excuse to bring you up in conversations, to keep you close.

Like how Jay himself never said much at all, but still, for some reason, his attention always gravitated toward you.

They just had different ways of showing affection, and for a while, Jay thought that was enough.

Until it wasn't.

"It's freezing. What are you doing out here?" Jay asked, stepping onto the snow-covered porch where Jake sat curled in on himself. The night air was sharp, biting against his skin, but Jake didn't seem to notice.

Jay's eyes trailed over him—his red nose, the slight tremble in his fingers, the way his eyes were swollen and glassy.

"Were you crying?" Jay frowned, reaching out to tilt Jake's face toward him.

Jake flinched, but he didn't pull away. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

"Baby, talk to me," Jay said, firmer this time.

"I—I..." Jake's voice wavered. His breath came out in a shaky cloud, visible against the cold air. "I'm sorry."

Jay's brows furrowed. "For what?"

Jake squeezed his eyes shut, as if saying it out loud would break him.

"I like her, Jay."

Jay's breath hitched at the confession, Jake had always been expressive—his love was loud, easy, all-consuming. But maybe, just maybe, Jay had never truly listened. Never truly looked. Because if he had, he would've seen this coming.

Jay let out a slow breath, steadying himself. Then, without hesitation, he cupped Jake's face, thumb brushing away the tear that slipped down his cheek.

"I'm sorry, I know it's wrong —"

"You don't have to be sorry," Jay murmured.

Jake sniffled, confused. "But—"

Jay shook his head, cutting him off. "I like her too."

Jake stilled. His grip on Jay's jacket loosened slightly, as if he didn't believe what he just heard.

Jay exhaled, looking past Jake for a moment, toward the snow-covered street, the dim porch light casting a soft glow around them. It had taken him too long to realize it, but now that the words were out, they felt right.

"I didn't want to admit it, but I get it. I get why you feel this way."

Jake's lips parted slightly, his breath hitching. "Then why did we—" He hesitated. "Why didn't we talk about this sooner?"

Jay fell silent, because that was the problem, wasn't it?

Their entire relationship had been built on silent understandings, unspoken words, actions instead of conversations. It had always been enough—until it really wasn't.

Jay wasn't the type to talk about feelings, and Jake... well, Jake always just went with whatever Jay was willing to give.

Jay sighed, finally meeting Jake's gaze again. "Because we never really talk about things, do we?"

Jake let out a breathy, broken laugh, shaking his head. "No. We really don't."

Jay reached up, threading his fingers through Jake's hair, pulling him into a slow, grounding hug. Jake melted into him instantly. For a while, neither of them spoke. The cold wind bit at their skin, the snow crunching softly beneath their feet as they shifted slightly in place. But neither moved to go inside.

"I miss her," Jake finally whispered. His voice was small, fragile in a way that Jay rarely ever heard. "Is it right to tell her how we feel?"

Jay stiffened slightly at the question, that was the real problem. It wasn't just about their feelings anymore—it was about yours too.

He wasn't an idiot. He had noticed the shift in your energy, the way you had started pulling away, the way your texts had become shorter, emptier.

Maybe you felt it too. Maybe you had been trying to fight it just as much as he had.

But unlike him, you had chosen to run.

And Jay hated that.

Because the truth was, he had spent so much of his life avoiding unnecessary complications, keeping people at arm's length to protect himself from feelings he didn't know how to deal with. Relationships were easy when they were just sex, when there were clear boundaries that everyone followed.

But you had blurred every single one of those lines.

He had spent months trying to ignore the way he felt, convincing himself that this was nothing more than what it started as — just a bit of fun. But then you wormed your way into their lives in ways he never anticipated.

It was in the way you laughed at Jake's stupid jokes, in the way you pout your lips at certain foods, in the way you always took extra time to make sure Jake was drinking enough water or that Jay wasn't skipping meals.

It was in the way you would fall asleep on their couch, curled up like you belonged there, as if you had carved a space for yourself in their world without even realizing it.

And yet, they had never said anything. They had never talked about what any of this meant, never acknowledged the growing weight of their emotions.

"I don't know," Jay admitted, "but I know I don't want to lose her."

Jake swallowed hard, his grip on Jay tightening. "Me neither."

He wasn't sure how to approach this, wasn't sure how to untangle the mess they had all made. But one thing was certain—he and Jake wanted you.

And if there was even the slightest chance that you wanted them too, Jay would figure out a way to make this work.

Poly relationships existed, didn't they?

And if that was the way to keep you, then Jay would do everything in his power to make you stay.

...

Except you were acting like a fucking bitch.

Despite all the planning, about how to approach this properly, Jake had gone ahead and done the one thing Jay told him not to do—talk to you without a plan. Without giving you time. Without preparing himself for the worst.

And now Jake was curled up in Jay's arms, shaking, trying to choke back his sobs while Jay clenched his jaw so tightly.

Jake was impatient, and you were pushing them away.

Jay's head was going to fucking explode. He didn't know how to handle this. He hated seeing Jake cry, hated the way his hands trembled as he held onto him. Hated the way you had shut them out like they didn't mean a goddamn thing to you.

Well, he knew that they meant something to you.

Jay's patience had been stretched thin for weeks now. Every time he thought he might have a chance to talk to you, you slipped away like smoke between his fingers. It was pissing him off. He could feel you pulling back, putting up walls he hadn't even realized were there. And the worst part is he had no fucking idea how to break them down.

He wasn't the kind of guy who begged. He wasn't the kind of guy who chased. But for you? For you, he was losing his goddamn mind.

"Hey, shhh, it's okay, I'll talk to her," Jay murmured, his voice steady despite the frustration simmering beneath the surface. Jake sniffled, his face buried in Jay's shoulder, but his grip didn't loosen. His whole body shook, fingers digging into Jay's back.

Jay sighed, bringing a hand up to wipe Jake's wet cheeks with the pad of his thumb. Jake's lips trembled.

"She's not even giving us a chance."

Yeah, he fucking noticed.

And it pissed him off. Not just because you were avoiding them, not just because you were pushing Jake away—but because Jake wasn't even mad about it. He wasn't angry; he was hurt. Both of them knew you didn't mean what you had said that day. But what could they do when you refused to talk? When you were so hell-bent on running?

"...Many individuals engage in self-sabotage not because they don't want happiness, but because they fear it."

Jay blinked at the professor's voice, his jaw tightening as he focused on the lecture.

"Fear of commitment, avoidance of intimacy, and reluctance to accept positive emotions often stem from deep-seated insecurities. This can manifest as pushing people away when they get too close, fixating on imperfections to justify emotional distance, or convincing oneself that they are 'better off alone.'"

He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face.

"To put it simply," the professor continued, leaning against his desk, "people self-sabotage when they don't believe they deserve good things. They anticipate failure or abandonment, so they preemptively destroy what could be good before it has the chance to hurt them."

Jay's head instinctively turned to where you usually sat. Your seat was empty. Of course, it was.

His fingers drummed against the desk, irritation flaring in his chest. He already knew you were avoiding them, but it was becoming worse. First, it was the silent treatment, then skipping plans, ignoring texts. Now, you were barely showing up to class. What the fuck were you thinking? Were you really about to fail a major subject just to get away from them?

Jake nudged him lightly, his eyes worried. "She's really doing this, huh?"

Jay clenched his jaw. "Fucking ridiculous," he muttered.

He didn't understand. Why were you acting like this? They had never once made you feel unwanted. Never treated you like an afterthought.

The professor moved on, but Jay wasn't listening anymore. His mind was spinning, the weight of your absence pressing heavily against him.

Prelims came and went. And still—no shadow of you.

Jay barely glanced at his exam paper as he turned it in. He had spent the past hour only half-focused, tapping his pen against the desk in frustration, mind elsewhere. He already knew his score wouldn't be his best. Not with the way you were consuming his every thought.

Outside the exam hall, Sunoo approached him hesitantly. Jay didn't miss the way he shifted awkwardly on his feet, fingers twisting together like he was debating whether to speak.

"I'm sorry," Sunoo finally said, sighing. "I hope... whatever's happening with you guys, you'll be patient with her."

Jay exhaled sharply through his nose. Yeah. He was trying to be patient, but patience was running thin when you wouldn't even look at them anymore.

Sunoo hesitated again before glancing around, making sure no one was listening. "It's not my story to tell," he admitted carefully, voice softer, "but she likes the both of you." He shook his head, lips pressing together. "She just... she's being negative."

Jay's grip tightened on his exam booklet. Of course, he fucking knew that. It wasn't just obvious—it was the only explanation that made sense. But hearing it from Sunoo, having someone else confirm it, should have made him feel better. It didn't.

Because knowing that you wanted them didn't change the fact that you were pushing them away. It didn't change the fact that you were choosing to ruin this before they even had a chance to prove to you that it could work.

Sunoo studied Jay's face, reading his silence before sighing. "She's just scared," he muttered. "That's how she is."

Jay huffed out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah? Well, I'm getting really fucking tired of watching her run."

Sunoo gave him a look, almost as if to say, then catch her.

Fine. He would. One thing was clear—this avoidance shit? It needed to end.

They had to talk. They had to communicate. Well, they had been trying. But talking to you was like grasping at smoke. Jay had tried to contact you, but it was clear you had soft-blocked them both. His messages stayed unread. Calls went straight to voicemail.

Jay had tried to find you. But every time he did, you ran. Midterms came. Jay was exhausted, irritated, and so fucking done with the distance.

And then, he saw you. Laughing like nothing had happened, like you hadn't disappeared off the face of the fucking earth. You were standing outside the library with a group of friends, flexing your nails dramatically as the others fussed over them. Jay's steps slowed. Your hair was different, it was short.

A bob cut. The sight of it made his chest tighten. It wasn't a bad thing—hell, it looked good. But it was different. You were different.

He inhaled sharply and stepped forward, but before he could close the distance, your gaze flickered up. And you saw him for a second your expression froze.

Then, before Jay could even process it, someone else entered the scene.

Some guy. That fucking guy and his girlfriend.

Jay watched as they approached you, watched as the girl kissed your cheek, Heeseung slinging an arm around your shoulder.

And you let them. You let them pull you away before Jay could even reach you. No fucking way.

"Do you think we should give up?" Jake had asked once. Jay only shook his head. No.

Communication is key—but with the way you're acting, they need a different strategy to reach you.

You don't get to run. Not anymore. Men speak in different ways they said, and if the softest way doesn't get through to you then he'll have to go rough.

"Oh my God, this is the most chaotic event ever," Sunoo complained loudly, fanning himself dramatically with his schedule sheet. "Who in their right mind thinks it's a good idea to hold university games when summer is practically melting us alive? That's actual insanity."

Sweat clung to your forehead, your clothes sticking uncomfortably to your skin. All around you, students were sprawled across the open field, desperately searching for shade or breeze.

Sunghoon turned on his small turbo fan and aimed it toward you and Sunoo. A soft hum filled the air, and you immediately leaned into the stream of cool air.

"Bless your soul," you moaned, eyes fluttering shut as the breeze hit your face.

Meanwhile, Wonyoung sat cross-legged on the grass nearby, sipping water with a serene expression, completely unbothered by the scorching sun.

"This is actually so unfair," you muttered, glancing at her in disbelief. "I look like a soggy dog, and she's out here looking like a skincare commercial."

"She's probably not human," Sunoo said flatly.

You slumped dramatically closer to the turbo fan, shoulders sagging with defeat. "Why did you even register us for dodgeball?!" you whined, voice muffled as you practically shoved your face into the breeze. "I look like I've been through five stages of grief, I don't even barely survive now that we don't do anything, then what about tomorrow."

Sunoo shrugged, unapologetic. "It's tradition. And it's the only time I get to legally throw a ball at people I don't like."

You gave him a flat look, lifting your face just enough to mutter, "That includes me, doesn't it?"

"Depends on how much more you complain," he deadpanned, eyes hidden behind his oversized sunglasses.

Sunghoon leaned slightly forward with a furrowed brow. "Hey, your mascara is kind of melting. Like... a lot."

You gasped, sitting up straight. "No! No, no, no—" You fumbled through your bag in a mild panic, fishing out your phone. The moment your reflection came into view, you groaned. "I look like a raccoon who just got dumped."

"You always say that," Wonyoung chimed in with a lazy smile, finally acknowledging the conversation as she shifted beneath her sun umbrella. "And yet somehow you still pull."

"Not in this heat I don't," you grumbled, pressing a tissue to the corner of your eye. The moment you pulled it back, it was smudged black. "Great. I look like I'm melting from the inside out."

You leaned into the mirror on your phone, trying to fix the damage but the more you dabbed and adjusted, the worse it got. The eyeliner smeared into your under-eye, and your lashes clumped at odd angles. You cursed softly under your breath, cheeks hot with both embarrassment and the unforgiving sun.

"I need to go to the bathroom," you muttered, standing quickly and brushing off the back of your shorts. "This is a mess—I need to fix this before I look like I got dumped and then thrown into a fire."

"I told you to change your mascara," Sunoo mumbled. "Waterproof isn't just a suggestion in this weather."

"I didn't think it'd get this bad!" you hissed, reaching for your bag—which, naturally, was hanging from Sunghoon's overburdened shoulder. He handed it off without complaint, arms already full of Wonyoung and Sunoo's things too.

"Where are you going?" Wonyoung asked without moving.

"To salvage my face," you said over your shoulder. "If I don't come back, assume I drowned in the sink."

You didn't wait for a reply, slipping away from the group as your shoes scuffed against the hot pavement. The chatter of students faded behind you, replaced by the distant hum of activity inside the university. The moment you entered the shaded hallway, the temperature dropped just enough for you to breathe.

Your footsteps echoed lightly as you made your way toward the restroom, the cold tile of the building cooling the soles of your feet through your sneakers. You exhaled a long, slow breath—finally out of the noise and the sun.

You pushed open the bathroom door and slipped inside, letting it close behind you with a soft click.

You dropped your bag on the counter, you pulled out your makeup, eyeing the smudged disaster on your face. Carefully, you began dabbing away the ruined mascara and eyeliner, patting concealer beneath your eyes and slowly rebuilding the illusion of composure. Your lashes clumped slightly as you reapplied your mascara, and you leaned in closer to the mirror to separate them.

You were just about finished when a voice cut through.

"Figured I'd find you here."

You jumped, nearly knocking your makeup pouch off the counter. Your head whipped toward the door—where Jay stood, leaning against the frame.

"This is the girls' restroom," you snapped, the panic slipping into your voice. The last thing you wanted was to be cornered by him. And God, of all the times, why did he have to look so fucking good in that damn denim jacket?

Jay didn't flinch. He just stared. "It's not like I haven't seen everything already," he said, stepping inside and letting the door swing shut behind him with a low thud.

You scoffed, hard, grabbing your bag off the counter. "Right. And that gives you a free pass to stalk me now? Is that how it works?"

Jay's jaw tightened, but his voice stayed low. "I didn't stalk you. I came to talk. Since you're ghosting every call, and message, avoiding us, and you made Jake cry," he added, emphasizing the last part.

"Maybe because I don't want to talk," you bit out, slamming a lipstick back into your bag. "I already told your boyfriend—I'm done with the both of you. So stop. Stop being so fucking annoying."

You tried to storm past him, but his hand shot out fast, gripping your shoulder, forcing you back.

"What the hell is your problem?!" you snapped, "You think cornering me like this is gonna change anything?"

Jay's eyes darkened, his voice dropping a notch. "Yeah. Maybe it will. Since the version where I let you push us away didn't work."

"You don't get to decide how I feel," you hissed, shoving at his chest. "You don't get to show up like this just because you're pissed I won't answer you."

"And you don't get to shut down every time something doesn't go your way," he shot back. "You act like you don't care, but if that were true, you wouldn't be shaking right now."

Jay's eyes dropped to your arm, the subtle tremble giving you away. You quickly swallowed the lump rising in your throat and tucked your arm behind your back.

He raised a brow. "Can you stop being a brat for five seconds and just hear me out?"

You scoffed, biting down the sting in your chest. "I told you—I'm not interested anymore. Why are you so damn pushy?!"

"Because we fucking like you!" Jay snapped, you stiffened, the silence that followed hitting louder than his voice had. Your breath caught. His jaw clenched, and the space between you suddenly felt way too small.

Being with them isn't realistic.

Push them away.

Lied through your fucking teeth.

"Wow. Great. That's your excuse?" you spat, though your voice shook just enough to betray you. "You like me, so now I'm supposed to just roll over and forget everything? Grow up, Jay. That's not how this works."

Jay stepped forward slowly. You instinctively backed up, your spine hitting the cold edge of the counter.

"You felt something too," he said, eyes fixed on you. "Don't bullshit me."

"Shut up," you shot back too fast, and too obviously defensive.

He didn't stop. His gaze locked on yours, footsteps steady. "You can act cold, pretend you're done, like we didn't get under your skin. But I know better."

You pressed harder into the counter. "You don't know shit," you hissed. "It was a mistake. A phase. Whatever the hell you thought you saw—it wasn't real."

Jay's mouth curled, smirking. "Funny. That 'phase' made you tremble like that? That mistake had you gasping my name?"

Your chest rose and fell fast, your heart thundering behind your ribs like it wanted out.

He leaned in, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath. "You're not scared of us. You're scared of how real it felt. You're scared because it meant something—and you don't know what the hell to do with that."

"Shut up," you repeated, but your voice cracked on the edge of it this time.

Jay went still and finally, he heard it. That tiny crack in your armor, the one you didn't mean to let slip. The one he'd been waiting for.

His expression shifted, the usual smirk gone. What was left was quiet, focus and dangerous stare.

"You can keep pushing us away. Say it was fake. Say it was a lie. But you and I both know—" his voice dipped, "—it was the most real thing you've ever felt."

You clenched your jaw, refusing to look at him. If you met his eyes now, it was over, you knew it. So you stared at the floor, at the sink, at anywhere but him.

"Look at me," he said.

You didn't. So he grabbed your jaw, rough, and tilted your face toward his. Your pulse pounded in your ears as you locked eyes with him. And that was it. The moment cracked open, revealing everything you hadn't said.

His gaze bore into you, not blinking, not softening. "You gonna keep pretending this meant nothing?" he murmured, breath ghosting over your cheek. "You gonna keep walking around like you're not haunted by us every fucking night?"

You said nothing because you couldn't. Jay stepped in closer, so close the space between you vanished, the scent of his cologne hitting you hard, that familiar deep and musky. Your legs wobbled, barely holding you up, and you cursed your body for betraying you.

He leaned in, his hand still holding your face, thumb brushing the edge of your lip. "You really think you can just move on? That someone else is gonna touch you the way we did? Know you the way we do?"

His voice dropped even lower, a growl at the edge of it. "You think you're just gonna give that cunt to someone else?" His hand slid down, slow, dragging along your throat, pressing just enough to make your breath catch. "You think it's gonna listen to them?"

Your thighs clenched on instinct. Fuck.

Jay caught the reaction—he always noticed. His lips curved just barely. "Your body doesn't lie," he said, "It remembers us. The way you moaned. The way you begged. That pussy listens when we speak. You know it. I know it."

His hand rested just above your chest now, feeling your heartbeat racing beneath it.

"You can lie all you want," he said, eyes dark and locked on you. "But your body's telling the truth."

You were frozen, pulse slamming in your throat, heat spreading beneath your skin. Jay's lips brushed the shell of your ear. "Say it didn't mean anything. Look me in the eye and say it."

A soft, broken gasp—no, worse. A moan left your mouth. You felt the slow smile curl against your skin, felt the change in the air as his grip shifted.

"There she is," he murmured. "Couldn't hold it in, could you?"

"Fuck you," you choked, breathless, humiliated, every inch of your skin lit up with heat and shame.

His hand slid from your chest to your neck again, thumb brushing your jaw as he tilted your head up. "You already did," he said. "And you fucking loved it."

His other hand slid to your hip, fingers digging in just hard enough to make you gasp. Then he stepped in fully, pressing his body flush against yours, pinning you between the counter and him.

"Push me away," he said, his forehead resting against yours, breath mingling, eyes locked on you like a hunter cornering prey.

But you couldn't look away. His scent coiled around you, and your legs barely held you up. You felt it, the warmth blooming between your thighs, the traitorous ache soaking into your panties, and you hated how much he could still do this to you with so little.

"Push me away," Jay repeated. "Make me cry the way you fucking did to Jake."

His hand tightened around your throat suddenly. Your hands flew to his wrist on reflex, clutching him but you didn't push. You didn't even try. A squeak escaped your lips, your fingers just held him there, trembling, as the air caught in your throat and heat flared down your spine.

"Stop talking," you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut, as if you could block out the sound of his voice.

But his grip on your throat only tightened. "Why?" Jay murmured, his tone taunting. "Can't take it?"

Your lips parted, breath ragged. "I—I'm s-sorry, okay? I'm sorry," you gasped.

Jay's eyes narrowed, and a sharp, mocking smile curled at his lips. "Sorry?" he echoed. "Now you're sorry?"

"No. You don't get to say sorry and pretend that fixes this," he snarled. "You lied. You ran. You made Jake cry. You threw us away —and now look at you."

"Look at yourself," he hissed. "Pathetic little whimper in your throat every time I speak."

You tried to shake your head, but he didn't let you. "No. Don't look away now," Jay growled, fingers still wrapped tight around your throat, forcing your eyes up to meet his. "You wanna play cold? Strong? Then own it. Stand tall. Push me off. Say it was all a fucking lie."

Your lips trembled. You tried. You tried to hold it in—but everything broke at once. "It's not!" you cried, voice cracking, hands shaking against his wrist. "It's not! I'm sorry!"

Your chest heaved. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to—I just—" your voice splintered into breathless pieces, eyes glassy, vision blurring, "please just—just—fuck!"

You grabbed his shirt, knuckles white.

"Touch me, please!"

The words left your mouth like a scream torn from your core, soaked in shame, in need.

"There's the truth." His grip released your throat to slide lower, hands now on your waist. Your hips met his, and the hardness pressing against your core made your breath stutter, arousal flooding you so hard your legs gave a twitch.

"You begged," he whispered, eyes never leaving yours. "Say it again."

You swallowed hard, breath catching, lips parted and trembling.

"Say it," he repeated like a command. "Say it so you remember how low you got."

You hesitated, just for a second, but the ache between your legs, the fire in your belly, the heat in your cheeks—it was too much.

"Please..." you whispered, eyes wide, voice shaking. "Touch me."

Jay tilted his head slightly, then leaned in to your ear again, mouth brushing your skin. "Louder."

You shut your eyes, biting your lip, humiliated but so fucking far gone. "Please," you gasped, louder now, every word dripping with shame, "touch me. I need it. I need you."

Jay didn't answer immediately. He let the silence hang heavy, waiting—making you sweat in it. Then he leaned closer again. "Think you deserve it?"

Your breath caught. "No..." you whispered. "N-No. I don't."

Jay smiled. "Exactly." And then, without another word, he pulled away. Just let go of you and stepped back, turning his back.

"H-Huh?" you breathed, the air suddenly cold without his touch. "Where are you going?"

"Back to the field," he said flatly. "You don't deserve shit—not after all the stupid games you played."

Panic flared so violently inside you it made your knees weak. The throbbing heat between your legs was unbearable now, your panties soaked, your stomach aching from how badly you needed release. But worse than the arousal was the cold pit of humiliation, of abandonment.

You lunged forward, clutching his wrist with both hands. "No, no—please! I'm sorry!" your voice cracked. "Please, I'm sorry, I just— I got jealous. With you and Jake, I— I like you. I like both of you, I just thought..."

You were sobbing now, tears spilling hot and fast down your cheeks. "I thought it would be better if I was out of the picture. I didn't know what to do. I miss you! I— I need you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

Jay turned slowly. "And you acted like a bitch because you thought it'd be better?" he hissed. "We chased you for three fucking months."

You froze, mouth parted, lips trembling. "And what did you do?" Jay continued, voice rising. "Blocked us. Ignored us. Walked away like we were nothing. Like you didn't feel anything."

"I did," you whispered. "I did."

He stared down at you, breathing hard, chest rising and falling, eyes locked on your tear-soaked face and the hands still clutching his wrist

"You're going to earn your place back," he said coldly. "We're not just taking you back. You'll crawl for it. You'll beg for it."

You stood there, frozen, tears still fresh on your cheeks. Shame burned through you, and the arousal between your legs was only getting worse.

"You want me to touch you?" he asked, his voice low, mocking. "You think I'll give that to you just like that? Just because you cried a little? Because you finally admitted you fucked up?"

You shook your head slowly, lip trembling. "N-No..." you whispered.

"No?" he echoed, lips curling. "Then why are you still standing like you're in control?"

You blinked at him, confused for half a heartbeat. And then the word dropped. "Kneel."

You flinched. Your legs almost didn't respond but your body knew. Knew the command, knew his tone, knew exactly what was expected. Your knees buckled beneath you, and you sank slowly to the floor, the cold tile biting into your skin.

Jay towered over you now, looking down with nothing but cold amusement in his eyes. "Pathetic," he muttered. "You were so full of fire. So quick to run your mouth. What happened to all that attitude, huh?"

You kept your head down, cheeks flushed hot, hands trembling in your lap.

He stepped in close behind you, hand fisting in your hair and yanking your head back just enough for you to gasp. "I should make you wait longer," he said, staring down into your eyes. "Should make you watch me walk away again. But then I'd miss watching you break. And I like this view too much."

Your lips parted, breath caught between a sob and a moan.

"You know what I should do?" Jay whispered. "I should call Jake. Let him see what's left of the girl who told him she was 'done.' Let him see you begging on your knees, soaked and broken. You think he'd feel sorry for you?"

You shook your head again, tears welling up all over, and yet—your thighs pressed together.

Jay smirked. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

He released your hair, let you slump forward just slightly. "You're going to stay right here," he said. "On your knees. Hands behind your back. You don't get to touch. You don't get to beg again unless I say."

"Yes..." you whispered, eyes shut, heart racing. "Yes, okay..."

You heard the soft rustle of denim—Jay pulling off his jacket and tossing it carelessly onto the counter. The metallic click of a belt followed, then the slow grind of a zipper sliding down. The sounds alone made your pulse spike.

Jay stood above you, fingers resting at his waistband. His gaze dropped down to meet yours and the look in his eyes made your stomach twist in the most helpless, humiliating way.

He shifted his stance slightly, drawing closer, one hand sliding into the front of his jeans, adjusting himself as his breath hitched low in his chest. A dark patch spread along the front of his briefs, Jay let out a low hiss through his teeth, his jaw tightening as he watched you watching him.

Jay's thumb brushed your bottom lip, dragging the soft flesh down just enough to part your mouth. With one hand, he pushed his briefs down just enough to free himself, fingers wrapping around the thick base of his cock. The head was flushed, already wet at the tip, and he slowly angled it toward your waiting mouth.

You opened for him without hesitation, lips parting wide, tongue slightly curled. You saw the flicker in his expression, by the way his breath hitched sharply, his brows twitching together.

"Fuck..." he muttered under his breath, just before his hips surged forward. The sudden thrust made your throat constrict, a choked gasp escaping you as you adjusted, eyes watering.

Both of his hands moved to your head now, fingers splaying through your hair, rough and needy. He let his fingertips glide against your scalp at first, almost soothing, before his grip tightened. A sharp tug followed.

"Why'd you cut your hair, anyway?" he asked, breathless, but the question was half a growl, half a genuine bite of irritation. His fingers tangled in your shorter strands, clearly missing the length he used to wrap his fists in.

Tears blurred your vision, slipping down your cheeks, but you didn't stop. Your throat worked hard around him, swallowing, adjusting, the wet sounds of gulp, gulp, gulp are echoing against the tile walls of the bathroom.

Your lips stayed stretched around him, tongue coiling beneath the shaft, dragging slow and deliberate from the base upward as you swallowed him again and again.

The world outside the bathroom didn't exist. You'd forgotten where you were, forgotten the echo of distant footsteps, the fact that the tiled walls weren't just enclosing heat and pleasure but public space. You were too far gone in the taste of him, in the stretch of your lips, in the burn of each breathless gasp you took through your nose.

Then—knock knock. A sharp, sudden rap on the door snapped. You flinched, instantly trying to pull back, eyes wide in panic, throat clenching around him. But Jay didn't let you go.

"Shh," he murmured. His fingers tightened in your hair, the other hand sliding to the back of your neck. Before you could react, he forced you down—all the way. His cock sank into your throat in one sharp, complete thrust, your nose pressed flat against the skin of his pelvis. The breath caught in your lungs. Your eyes watered harder. You were choking, but you stayed, frozen, as his grip held you exactly where he wanted.

The door creaked open.

"It's just me," came a soft, casual familiar voice.

You heard the unmistakable click of the lock sliding into place behind him. A moment later, you could feel the weight of Jake's stare, as he stood there, just inside the bathroom door, watching.

Jake's tone was edged with uncertainty, but not surprise. "You said you were just gonna talk," he said as he took in the scene—your knees on the cold tile, face flushed, cheeks hollowed, and Jay buried deep in your throat.

Jay exhaled through his teeth, head tilting back slightly, his grip finally loosening just enough for you to breathe again. But he didn't pull out.

"That's her way of apologizing," Jay hissed, his hips rolled forward again with purpose, forcing another wet choke from you. "Isn't that right?"

His hand remained in your hair, holding you steady, guiding your mouth with every thrust. His other hand slipped down to your jaw, thumb brushing the corner of your lips, smearing the spit that clung there like gloss.

You looked up and there was Jake.

You'd always remembered Jake as soft-spoken, the kind of boy smiled too gently. Sweet to a fault. The kind of person who would've cupped your cheek and whispered it was okay, would've helped you up and kissed the tears from your face.

But not now. Now his eyes weren't soft. They were cold, sharp and predatory.

Even through the blur of your lashes and the sting of fresh tears, you saw it: the shift. The hunger.

"You're crying," Jake said. He tilted his head, studying your face. "She's crying, Jay."

And how you remembered, too well, the way he had this thing with you crying every time he fucked you. A fascination of your tears.

"She should be," he said flatly. "After the shit she pulled? She should be sobbing." He thrust forward again, slow and deep, watching your throat stretch to take it.

Jake didn't blink. His expression didn't soften. He just knelt lower beside you, one hand resting casually on his knee as he leaned in a little closer. His eyes were fixed on your tear-streaked face, watching every twitch of your mouth, every breath you struggled to take around Jay's cock.

His cock twitched in his pants. There was a fire building in his chest stoked by the sight of you like this—on your knees, choking, tears running, all for his boyfriend. And yet... all he could think about was that moment. That time he tried talking to you, voice soft, reaching out with patience, and you'd barely looked at him. Just shrugged him off.

Maybe he'd been too kind. No—he had been too kind.

Jake didn't know exactly what he was feeling as he watched Jay drive himself deeper into your mouth, but it wasn't softness. Not anymore. A new edge in his blood he hadn't recognized before. Every time your throat clenched, every time another tear slipped down your cheek, something inside him twisted tighter.

"You're so unfair," Jake said. He stood slowly, eyes never leaving your face.

Jay reached up, hand curling around the back of Jake's neck, fingers threading into his hair. He pulled him down, and their mouths met in a slow kiss.

You whimpered around Jay's cock, your voice small and choked as your eyes followed the scene unfolding above you.

They didn't look at you. Their kiss deepened quickly, mouths open, tongues sliding together in a messy, hungry rhythm. Jay tilted his head, humming low against Jake's mouth, and Jake responded with a moan that vibrated through him—a sound that made Jay's grip on your hair tighten just slightly.

Their bodies leaned into each other, mouths devouring, heat bleeding off them like they'd forgotten you were even there. You whimpered again, louder this time, throat sore, nose running, your jaw aching, but they still didn't acknowledge you.

Then you sobbed, your body trembling as another wave of tears spilled down your cheeks. Jake pulled back from the kiss, breathless, lips slick.

"Stop being dramatic," he muttered as he looked down at you. His hand came down with no hesitation, fingers sliding into your hair alongside Jay's to push you further.

You whimpered one last time, cut off by the sudden pressure as your head was forced forward. Your nose pressed flush to Jay's skin again, throat stretched to its limit.

"Shut up," Jake said quietly. Jay hissed through his teeth, his body jerking slightly as your throat took him again, deeper now under Jake's added weight.

You gagged again, but Jake didn't flinch. He just turned his head and watched his boyfriend with a crooked smile. before leaning in to kiss him again. Their mouths met above you, hot and open, tongues sliding as if you weren't there.

You couldn't breathe.

Your throat burned, raw and stretched too wide, and your jaw felt like it was splitting apart under the unrelenting ache. Jay's pace had become erratic now, his stomach bouncing against your nose with each desperate thrust. You could feel the tightness in your chest spreading, oxygen slipping further and further out of reach.

Your lungs screamed. Your eyes streamed. But neither of them looked down.

And just when you felt his cock throb in warning, when your body tensed in anticipation of the inevitable—

Jake pulled you off.

You gasped as you were suddenly released, choking, coughing, collapsing sideways onto the cold tile floor. Your body folded, weak and trembling, chest heaving as you dragged in greedy, ragged breaths. Your lips were swollen, spit-slick and trembling, and the back of your throat felt like it had been clawed raw.

You barely had time to lift yourself onto your elbows when you saw Jake move again.

He dropped to his knees smoothly in front of Jay, his mouth opened without a word, and he took Jay in deep, his jaw relaxed. You watched through bleary, tear-streaked eyes as Jake's head began to bob, slow and sinuous, his lips wrapped around the same cock that had just brutalized your throat.

Jay groaned, one hand bracing against the counter, the other curling in Jake's hair. His hips jerked once, twice—and then he came.

Jake didn't flinch. He swallowed it all, his throat working silently, eyes fluttering shut as if savoring it. His fingers dug into Jay's hips, keeping him in place as the last tremors rolled through him.

You stayed on the floor, trembling, watching through a curtain of tears you couldn't stop.

Jake pulled back with a wet drag of his mouth, lips glossy, tongue flicking out to catch the last trace of Jay's release. He looked up at him with hooded eyes, mouth still parted slightly, breath heavy. Jay let out a soft, breathless laugh, brushing Jake's hair back from his face.

Something in you twisted again. Bitter. Ugly. It crawled up your chest and sat there. You wiped your face with the back of your trembling hand, smearing the tears more than cleaning them. The other reached up shakily, trying to push your hair out of your eyes, trying to regain some kind of dignity.

But Jake didn't give you the chance. He turned to you slowly, head cocked, still licking the corner of his mouth. His gaze locked onto you, that same hunger was still in his eyes.

"You think you're done?" he asked. Jay's hand dropped from Jake's hair, and looked down on you again.

Jake stood and approached you with the lazy certainty of someone who already knew you wouldn't resist. He crouched in front of you, his face level with yours. He reached out and brushed your hair back

Your lips trembled as you tried to speak. "I-I'm sorry, Jake..." you whispered, barely able to meet his eyes. "Both of you mean something to me. I just... I didn't know how to handle it. I miss you. I didn't mean to make you cry. You're precious to me, baby."

Jake stilled. For a moment, he didn't blink. His gaze searching yours. His breath hitched, just enough to give him away, his jaw tightening as his face flickered with softness. Behind you, Jay leaned back against the wall with a soft exhale, arms crossing over his chest. His eyes flicked between the two of you.

Jake's hand hover near your cheek, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. You leaned into it simply to feel him again. Just that brief, tender contact that used to come so easily. Your skin brushed his fingertips, and he didn't pull away.

"I'm so sorry," you sobbed. Your body trembled, shoulders shaking, the emotion too big to contain any longer.

Jake exhaled sharply, his entire demeanor going soft suddenly. "Shhh..." he finally whispered, pulling you into him.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, and he tucked his face into the side of your head. His nose pressed gently to your temple. One hand moved to your back, slowly rubbing up and down.

"You meant it?" he murmured. "All of it?"

You nodded into his shoulder, arms tightening around his waist as you clung to him. "I meant it," you whispered, breath hitching. "Every word."

Jake didn't move right away. He just held you there, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other drawing slow, rhythmic circles against your spine. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, faster than it should've been.

For a moment, everything else faded— the ache in your throat, the sting of your tears, even Jay's quiet presence nearby. It was just Jake. Just the closeness you hadn't had in too long.

"I should be angry," Jake murmured after a pause. "But I missed you too much." He pulled back just slightly, enough to look at you. "Don't lie to me again. Don't run." he said softly.

"I won't," you whispered. "Let me fix things." The moment the answer left your lips, Jake moved, he hooked his arms beneath you, lifting you up.

You let out a small gasp as he turned, setting you down on the cold counter behind you. Your back hit the mirror with a soft thud, the glass cool against your scalp as your legs instinctively parted to accommodate him stepping in between them.

He kept his eyes on yours, even as his hands moved to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers working them down. "Let's fix things, huh?" he murmured, dragging your shorts down in one motion. "You want to make things right?"

You nodded again, barely able to breathe as the air hit your wet skin.

"Then spread those pretty thighs," Jake growled under his breath. He dropped the fabric carelessly to the floor, hands sliding up your inner thighs, his eyes landed on the soaked fabric of your panties before he pushed them aside.

"Already dripping," he muttered. His fingers pressed against your folds through the soaked cotton, dragging slowly up your slit, teasing you. The friction of the fabric sent jolts through your core. He pressed a little harder, making your hips twitch in response.

Another presence pressed close—Jay. He moved in behind Jake. "You're spoiling her again," Jay said as he leaned in, his breath warm against your neck.

His hands slid up your body from behind, palms rough, until they found your breasts. He cupped them through your top, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they stiffened beneath the fabric. He gave a sharp little pinch that made you whine, your body jolting forward as your thighs tensed around Jake.

"I don't think she's learned her lesson though," Jay muttered, rolling your nipples between his fingers lazily.

"She looks sorry," Jake said, but his eyes were locked on your glistening cunt. "But I don't think that mouth means anything until it's begging."

Jake dropped to his knees between your legs, mouth already parting as he pressed it against your heat. He pushed the fabric aside with one hand and gave your folds a slow, deliberate lick that made your head fall back against the mirror.

"I'm sorry," you choked out, voice shaking. "I mean it—please. I'm really sorry!"

Jake didn't answer. He just groaned against your pussy, his tongue flicking against your clit. The vibrations made your thighs clench around his head, but he held you in place, grip firm, unmoved by your squirming.

Jay chuckled above you. "That's one. Keep counting." He leaned in closer, lips brushing your ear. "You don't get to say you're sorry once and expect it's over, sweetheart."

"I am, I swear—" you gasped as Jake sucked your clit into his mouth, making your hips jerk. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Jake. Jay, please—please forgive me..."

Jay's hand slid lower, fingers trailing a heated path down your trembling stomach. His hand slipped between your thighs, right above Jake's head, and his fingers found your clit in seconds, rubbing slow, tight circles in contrast to the deeper movements of Jake's tongue.

The combination made your head tilt back, a cry caught in your throat.

Jake groaned against you, the sound buzzing through your core as he pushed his tongue into your hole, fucking you with slow, deep strokes. His nose nudged against Jay's fingers as he worked in tandem.

Jay's free hand found your breast again, making your shirt up to your collarbone and exposing your skin. His fingers found your nipple in your bra, pinching it between his knuckles until your back arched involuntarily.

Jake pulled back just enough to speak. "She tastes like guilt," he muttered before dipping back in. This time, his tongue flattened against your slit, licking long and firm, each pass rougher than the last.

"I am guilty!" you cried out, voice cracking as your fingers clutched the edge of the counter. "I fucked up—I know I did, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—I missed you, both of you—"

Jay didn't respond right away. His thumb rose to your throat, brushing the hollow there gently, deceptively. "You're not forgiven yet," he said calmly. "But keep begging. Maybe we'll believe you."

Jake moaned into your cunt, tongue working harder, faster, burying himself in your heat while his grip on your thighs tightened, nails biting into your flesh to keep you still.

Your body arched reflexively, head pressed hard against the mirror behind you. The cold glass was a cruel contrast to the fever building inside you, the friction between their mouths and fingers making your thoughts blur and your words tumble out in desperate, breathless gasps.

"I'm sorry—please, I'm so sorry—Jake, Jay—don't stop, please—don't leave me—I'll do anything—"

"You will do anything," Jay murmured, lips brushing your jaw as he kept one hand working your clit and the other still wrapped around your throat. "But that doesn't mean we're done punishing you."

Jake pulled back just long enough to spit on your cunt, watching it drip down before diving back in.

"Y-Yes, yes, yes..." you breathed. A few strands of your hair had fallen across your face, clinging to your flushed cheeks. Jay tsked under his breath, brushing the messy hair away with care. His fingers swept your temple, tucking the strands behind your ear to clear the view. He wanted to watch your face, every twitch, every tremble, every silent plea written across your features.

Jake's tongue flicked over your clit again, followed by a slow, deep press inside. Your thighs shook against his shoulders, toes curling over the edge of the counter.

"You don't even know which one of us you're moaning for, do you?" Jay whispered.

"I c-can't—" you whimpered, breath stuttering. "I'm sorry—Jake, Jay—I'm sorry, I swear—please..."

Jake growled softly between your legs, like your apology alone made him want more. He shifted his angle, tongue plunging deep as his nose rubbed against your clit, creating friction that made your spine arch and your head knock back into the mirror again with a dull thud.

Jay caught your head this time, hand sliding behind your skull, fingers threading through your hair.

"You'll come like this," Jay murmured, his lips brushing yours without closing the distance. "On his tongue, with my hand around your throat, and every breath you take will be ours."

"Jake—fuck!—Jay—I'm—" You choked on your own voice, the climax coiling inside you about to snap.

Jake didn't slow. His tongue moved in steady, ruthless strokes. His grip on your thighs tightened, keeping you anchored, legs trembling under the weight of everything he was drawing from you.

Jay's hand remained firm around your throat, not choking but holding. His thumb pressed lightly just beneath your jaw, grounding you as the rest of your body lost control. His eyes stayed locked on yours, watching every flicker of surrender build in your face.

"Look at me," he ordered softly. "Don't look away."

You tried—God, you tried—but your vision blurred with tears and white-hot pleasure, your eyes fluttering, lashes damp as you clung to consciousness. "I—can't—" you gasped, every breath shallow, high-pitched.

Jay leaned in, brushing his mouth against yours without kissing you. "You can," he whispered. "You will."

Jake's mouth locked around your clit, sucking hard, his tongue flicking fast, perfectly cruel. One hand slid beneath your ass, lifting you just enough to change the angle, and the pressure hit exactly where you needed it. The world around you fractured.

Your entire body arched.

A scream tore from your throat as Jay's hand held your windpipe and Jake's tongue forced you over the edge. Your vision went white behind your eyelids, every nerve in your body seizing with the violence of your orgasm. Your thighs clamped around Jake's head involuntarily, hips grinding into his mouth.

"There it is," Jay growled, watching the climax crash through you. "Fuck, that's it. That's what sorry looks like."

You sobbed, mouth open and shaking as aftershocks rolled through you, making your legs twitch, your fingers slip on the counter's edge.

Jake didn't stop right away. He licked you through it, each drag of his tongue coaxing every last tremor from your core. Only when your body jerked from overstimulation did he finally pull away, mouth slick, chin wet, his breath ragged.

"Goddamn," he muttered, voice rough as he looked up at you from between your legs. "Still the sweetest fucking thing I've ever tasted."

Jay eased his grip on your throat and let your head fall forward against his shoulder. You collapsed into the space between them, boneless, panting, your body trembling and used, your voice lost somewhere.

Jake rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he reached for his waistband. He was flushed, breath ragged, hands already moving to undo his pants. You lifted your head weakly, eyes wide, still dazed as you looked up at Jay. "A-Are we really doing this? In here?"

Jay arched a brow. "Jake just had his mouth buried in your pussy," he said smoothly. "Don't start playing modest now. Don't be selfish."

Jake let out a sharp breath as he freed himself, hissing softly as his hand wrapped around his cock.

Your breathing hitched when he stepped in closer. He lined himself up with you, the swollen head of his cock teasing your entrance, sliding up through your folds, collecting the wetness there before grinding it against your clit.

You whimpered at the friction. "My back hurts..." you managed to stammer out. "It's... it's uncomfortable."

Jake didn't even flinch, he pushed in his whole length into you in one motion. You both moaned at the feeling.

"We'll make it comfortable." Jake growled, breath hot against your cheek as he gripped your waist.

Without warning, he lifted you off the counter, his hands strong under your thighs. You let out a startled gasp, your legs instinctively locking around his hips as he held you up with ease. His cock stayed buried inside you as he adjusted his grip, settling you in against him.

"Ahh—Jake!" you cried out as he began to move, bouncing you on his cock. Every thrust drove him deeper, the sound of skin on skin echoing sharp against the cold tile walls. Jay moved without a word. He slipped in behind you, one hand found your hip, steadying you as your body jolted from Jake's pounding pace, while the other reached up, sliding to seize your breast.

"God, fuck—" Jake groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your damp skin before he started kissing and biting, not caring about the sweat.

Jay's mouth found your shoulder first, then your throat, trailing wet kisses up your jaw until he reached your lips. Your head lolled back against him, mouth already open, and he took full advantage—tongue slipping between your lips, swallowing the moans Jake was forcing from your chest.

You whimpered into Jay's mouth, his cock grinding against your lower back, the friction syncing with every bounce of your hips. Your body moved helplessly between them, each movement rubbing him against you, closer... lower...

"You're so fucking wet," Jake growled against your throat. "I can feel it all over me." He thrust harder, teeth grazing your shoulder as he panted.

Jay broke the kiss with a sharp nip to your bottom lip, tugging until you gasped. "I think we'll fit," he said, voice low, eyes flicking down to where your bodies met. "Don't you think?"

Your heart lurched.

Your eyes widened as you felt Jake adjust his stance, your weight shifting in his arms. Your body tensed immediately, the pressure at your core tightening to near-panic. "Wait! W-Wait—!" you stammered, breath catching in your throat.

Jay was already positioning himself, one hand on your lower back, the other on Jake's hip for balance as he leaned in. You barely had a moment to catch your breath before you felt it—his cockhead, thick and hard, pressing lower just beneath where Jake was already buried inside you.

The angle was careful. Slick with your arousal and the lingering wetness of Jake's earlier mouthwork, Jay began to push slow his shaft grinding against Jake's through the tight squeeze of your entrance, the pressure unbearable even before he was fully inside.

Jake slowed immediately, holding you tighter in his arms, breath ragged against your cheek. His voice was low, firm, grounding.

"Relax for him. Breathe. You can take it."

But your body was shaking, the stretch is too intense, and too foreign.

"Fuck! I can't—" The words tore from your throat, panic bleeding into your tone—cut off almost instantly when Jake surged forward and kissed you. His mouth swallowed your cry as Jay began to sink in, splitting you further, claiming space that wasn't there.

Your entire body tensed, clutching, pulsing, your walls clamping down instinctively on both cocks as they shifted inside you, working together to make room.

Both men moaned low in your ears. "Shit," Jake gasped into your mouth, breaking the kiss just to breathe. "Fuck, she's tight—Jay—go slow."

Jay's groan was more guttural, his lips brushing your shoulder. "I am—she's gripping us like she's trying to push us out."

You whimpered as your body was forced to take it—all of it. The thick drag of Jay's cock sliding in alongside Jake's, every inch of your walls stretched to their absolute limit, friction pressing between them, heat building inside you so violently it made your toes curl.

Their hips pressed in unison, the base of their cocks grinding together deep inside you, buried to the hilt. You could feel them inside each other through you, the shared space, the impossible pressure, the slow pulse of them twitching inside your cunt, both thick and deep and so full it.

Jay hissed, forehead pressed to your back. Your mouth hung open, panting. All you could do was hold on—legs locked around Jake's waist, arms limp around his shoulders, your body trembling violently between them.

You couldn't tell where the pain ended and the pleasure began.

Jake's head dropped to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. "I can feel him," he whispered. "Fuck, I can feel him moving through you."

Jay's hand shifted from your hip to Jake's jaw, guiding his face upward. Their bodies pressed so close, only you between them, joined not just through you, but with you.

Jay leaned in, lips met Jake's, tongues brushing, mouths sliding together as their hips shifted slightly, still buried inside you. Their kiss deepened quickly, tongues pressing hard, teeth grazing. Jake groaned into it, when he pulled back from Jay only to kiss you next.

His lips claimed yours fast, almost needy—salt and sweat and desperation—and Jay didn't wait. He was already kissing along your neck, up behind your ear, while his hand slid between you to stroke your clit with slow circles.

The shift in pace was dizzying. They weren't pounding into you. Not yet. They were just holding you. Deep, warm, kissing, mouths trading between you and each other.

Jake finally broke the kiss, forehead pressed to yours as he whispered, "You feel like heaven right now."

Jay's mouth brushed your shoulder again. "She's shaking. Poor thing's too full to even speak."

Your fingers digging into Jake's shoulders, back arching slowly. The pressure of them both still lodged inside you kept your body humming with tension.

Jay kissed the side of Jake's mouth again before murmuring, "Move with me, baby."

Jake nodded once. They shifted. And then, slowly, carefully, they began to move.

One would pull back while the other pressed in, your body stretching and clenching around the rhythm. It was slower than before, more controlled, but no less overwhelming. The glide of two thick cocks inside you, perfectly in sync, had your body twitching, tears pricking your lashes again.

Their mouths kept moving, on your throat, on each other, across flushed skin and slick shoulders. They didn't speak much, just low moans, shuddered breaths, the soft slap of bodies finding rhythm again. Jay's hand never left your clit. Jake's arms held you close.

"Stay with us," Jake whispered into your mouth, the tip of his nose brushing yours.

"Don't run next time," Jay added, his voice deep in your ear. "We just want to keep you." And their cocks kept moving, slow and deep and together, keeping you open, full, and exactly where you belonged.

Jake shifted slightly beneath you, adjusting his stance, the grip on your thighs tightening as he found more control in his movement. The slow rhythm gave way to more deeper, and faster, his hips slapping up with wet, rhythmic sounds that bounced off the walls.

The moans pouring from you grew louder. You were unraveling again, overstimulated, but your legs refused to stop twitching, clinging around Jake's waist as your hands clawed at anything for purchase—his shoulders, Jay's neck, the edge of the mirror behind you.

A sudden sound echoing outside, footstep and people murmuring as they pass by. Panic stabbed into your chest. You froze for a moment, instinct flaring, shame bubbling up behind your ribs. The reality of where you were hit hard—legs wrapped around one man, another flush to your back, both of them inside you, fucking you, right there in the university bathroom.

But the pleasure didn't stop. You twitched, thighs squeezing reflexively, a cry caught in your throat. "Someone's—"

Jay's hand came up instantly, cupping the side of your face as he leaned in, swallowing your next sound with a kiss. His mouth sealed over yours just as Jake drove up harder, his thrust knocking the breath from your lungs, forcing the moan straight into Jay's waiting tongue.

"Let them hear," Jake hissed, voice rough against your skin, his pace unrelenting now. "Let them wonder who's making you sound like that."

The footsteps outside faded, but your heartbeat didn't slow. It thundered in your chest, driven by both fear and the savage pleasure coursing through your nerves.

Jay broke the kiss with a strand of spit between your lips, eyes half-lidded, and flushed. "You're squeezing us like you want to get caught," he murmured, fingers slipping between your bodies to rub your clit again, drawing a fresh, keening whimper from your throat.

Every drag of their shafts against each other inside your overstretched cunt sent aftershocks through your core, your body trembling violently with each grind and press. The feeling of them rubbing together inside you, separated only by the thin, spasming walls of your body, wasn't just overwhelming—it was ruinous.

"F-Fuck," Jake choked, hips jolting up hard. The impact of his thrust slammed you forward into Jay's chest, your breath ripped from you as your body tried—and failed—to brace for the intensity.

Jay grunted, catching your body easily, his hand fisting your hair as he held you in place. His cock surged deeper alongside Jake's, the slick sound of their movements inside you impossibly loud in the quiet space.

"Can't hold it," Jake panted, sweat dripping from his temple, breath stuttering. "She's—she's so tight I can feel you through her—fuck, Jay—"

Jay growled, his own control shattering with every convulsion of your clenching walls. You could barely think anymore—your mouth hung open, no words left, only broken gasps and sobs as your body tightened around them again. The pressure had built too fast. It rolled up from your core, cresting so high you couldn't breathe.

Your orgasm hit hard. It exploded through your abdomen, a pulsing, electric burst of heat that seized every muscle. You screamed, not even a word, just sound—your voice breaking as your cunt clenched violently around them, walls spasming uncontrollably.

"Fuck—" Jake snarled, the rhythm of his hips shattering.

He slammed in once more, his cock jerking violently inside you as he came with a rough moan, hot pulses of cum flooding your cunt. You felt every spurt, thick and hot and deep, and the sensation of being filled only sent another shiver of pleasure rolling through your already-fractured nerves.

Jay wasn't far behind. Your body's violent squeezing around both cocks at once pushed him over the edge—his thrusts turned erratic, hard, his breath tearing through his chest.

"Gonna fill you up," he groaned against your throat, voice ragged, hips pressing as deep as they could go. "You're gonna take all of it."

Then he came. You felt the way his cock throbbed next to Jake's inside you, the rush of hot fluid spilling in, mixing with Jake's release, both of them pouring into the same aching space. Their hips jerked in sync, involuntary tremors shaking them as your body held them tight, refusing to let go.

Your own climax still burned through you, wave after wave wracking your limbs, your nails digging into Jake's shoulders as your vision blurred.

You were just there, caught between their shaking bodies. They didn't pull out. They stayed inside you, panting, foreheads pressed to your skin, arms wrapped tight around your waist. The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, the soft whisper of sweat-slicked skin, the occasional stuttered groan as aftershocks rolled through all three of you.

Jake leaned his forehead against yours. "Fuck," he breathed. "You're so beautiful."

Jay's hand came up to stroke your side. "No more running, okay?" he murmured, his lips brushing your temple as he spoke. "We're going to talk this time. Really talk."

You tried to nod, but your head only shifted slightly. A soft, low hum escaped your throat as your vision swam and your body slumped against Jake's chest. Everything ached. You weren't sure if your legs were still attached, or if you'd ever feel your core without that deep, burning throb again.

It had been so long since you'd let yourself be used like that... and even longer since it had ever felt like this. Safe. Claimed. Held.

Jake was the first to move, easing himself out of you. You whimpered faintly at the loss, but even that sound felt distant in your own ears.

"Hey," he whispered, fingertips brushing your cheek. He tapped gently, calling your name. "Hey, come back to me, baby."

But you couldn't answer. Your eyes were half-open, glazed with exhaustion. Your body limp between them. There was no strength left in your limbs just the slow throb of overstimulation and the deep, quiet ache that said you'd been pushed right to the edge of yourself.

Jake's expression changed instantly. "Shit—she's out of it," he muttered, voice sharp with guilt.

Jay's brows furrowed. "She's overwhelmed. Fuck."

Together, they moved quickly, shifting their grips. Jake bent to retrieve his pants, tugging them up with one arm while the other held you carefully to his chest. Your body sagged against him, boneless but trusting, your cheek pressed to the slick skin of his shoulder. "I've got her," Jake said quietly.

Jay adjusted himself quickly, stepping in to help. His hands cupped your thighs, his gaze scanning your face. "We need to get her cleaned up. Somewhere soft."

"Yeah," Jake agreed, his hand smoothing the back of your hair.

You couldn't speak—not really. You were too far gone, too worn down in the sweetest, most bone-deep way.

But you felt them. You felt the tissue as they wiped between your legs, cleaning their combined mess from your trembling thighs. Another passed over your face, cool and damp, brushing away the sticky sheen of sweat and the tears you didn't remember shedding. Fingers were tender as they tucked your hair back, smoothing it down, and you sighed softly into the sensation.

Jake carried you effortlessly, holding you to his chest. You felt Jay beside you, one hand steadying your legs as they moved together. Their voices were hushed now, murmurs exchanged just beyond your hearing, their steps soft against the tile.

When the door opened, the shift in air hit instantly—cool and dry from the hallway's air conditioning, raising goosebumps across your flushed skin.

You managed one last, drowsy breath as the cool air washed over you. Then your eyelids dropped.

You stirred slowly, the first thing you felt was warmth. A soft bed cradled your body, the sheets cool against your bare skin, but it was the sensation wrapped around your waist that anchored you. The scent pressing against your back was just as recognizable—clean sweat, faint cologne, and something uniquely him.

You blinked slowly, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks before you opened your eyes fully.

Your head was nestled into the crook of someone’s neck. His skin was warm beneath your cheek, his heartbeat a steady thrum beneath your ear. You shifted slightly, body still sore and heavy, and looked up.

Jake was watching you, eyes soft. He rubbed slow circles against your side with the pad of his thumb, his other hand still resting gently across your waist, holding you close.

“Hi,” he whispered.

You managed a small, sleepy smile. “Hi. How long was I out?” you asked, blinking again to clear the haze still lingering behind your eyes.

Jake exhaled through his nose, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “About an hour,” he murmured.

Your brows knit faintly, and he brushed a thumb along your temple. “Don’t worry,” he added with a soft smile. “We covered for you. Told them you fainted because of the heat—overexerted, nothing serious.”

You let out a quiet laugh, the sound dry in your throat. “Technically not a lie…”

Jake’s grin widened just slightly, a playful glint flickering behind the softness in his eyes. “Mm. They don’t need the exact details.”

You gave a breath of a laugh, but it faded quickly as your gaze lingered on his face—the gentle curve of his smile, the creases near his eyes, the way he was watching you so closely.

“Jake…” your voice came out small.

He stilled, but his thumb never stopped moving on your side. “Yeah?”

You hesitated, the flood of everything you’d been trying to suppress surged up your throat. You swallowed it down once, then let it rise.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “For avoiding you. For running off. For shutting down instead of just…” You trailed off, sighing as your brows pulled together. “I was scared.”

Jake’s lips parted slightly, his grip on you tightening for a moment before he pulled you in closer, pressing your cheek against his chest. You felt the beat of his heart against your skin.

“I didn’t know what to do with what I was feeling,” you continued. "I started… caring. And that made everything messy. Because you and Jay—you’re already whole. You don’t need someone like me getting in the middle of that.”

Jake was silent, listening, his hand still tracing soft patterns into your skin.

“And I kept thinking…” You swallowed hard. “If I let myself fall deeper, I’ll only be the one who ends up hurt. Like I’d ruin what you both already have. That I didn’t deserve it, any of it.”

He finally spoke, his voice low. “Why didn’t you just tell us that?”

“I didn’t know how,” you admitted. “And then when I saw the two of you together, being so perfect—it made me realize how small my place in this is. Or… was.”

Jake shook his head, exhaling as he tilted your face up gently with his fingers. “You think we’re perfect?” he said, a sad sort of smile curling at the corners of his lips. “We’re not. We’ve made mistakes. We didn’t talk about a lot of things. But one thing we were sure of?” His thumb brushed across your cheekbone. “We both want you.”

Jake's thumbs caressed the apples of your cheeks, his gaze never leaving yours. His breath was warm as he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes closing briefly. “I’m sorry we didn’t make it clearer,” he whispered. “We thought we were showing you—through touch, through time, through every little thing we did. But we never said it. And maybe that’s where we messed up.”

You blinked back the heat behind your eyes, your throat tightening. Jake’s fingers brushed under your jaw, coaxing you to look at him again.

“We want you,” he said, “In every way. Not just in our bed. Not just when it’s convenient. We want you in our life. You’ve already made space in it—you didn’t ruin anything.”

You let out a shaky breath, and before you could stop yourself, you pressed your face into the crook of his neck again, seeking warmth, shelter, reassurance. His arms wrapped tighter around you.

“And Jay?” you asked quietly, voice muffled against his skin.

Jake chuckled softly, the sound a little choked. “Jay’s downstairs trying to pretend he’s not pacing. He’s been wanting to talk to you too. But I asked him to give me this moment first.” He pulled back just enough to brush your hair from your face. “You mean more to him than you think.”

The soft knock came, Jake didn’t move right away, just held your gaze, giving you a choice without saying a word. When you gave the smallest nod, he leaned over and called out gently, “It’s okay. Come in.”

The door cracked open, and Jay stepped inside. His eyes immediately found yours, and the moment they did, the edge in his posture melted. He wasn’t guarded like he usually was.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, stepping closer.

Jake shifted slightly to make space on the bed, and Jay took it without question. He sat on the edge first, then leaned in beside you, bracing one hand on the mattress near your hip.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. “Sore,” you said, voice raspy with sleep. “Like I got hit by a very… affectionate truck.”

That pulled a laugh from both of them. Jake’s body vibrated behind you with the sound, and Jay let out a quiet chuckle as he rubbed a hand gently over your knee, his thumb brushing just above where the blanket had slipped.

“Sorry,” Jay murmured, though the smirk was playing at his mouth now. “Not sorry.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned into him when he bent down and pressed a kiss to your temple. His lips lingered there for a beat longer than expected. When he pulled back, he looked more serious.

“No more running,” he said quietly, “I’m not great with… talking. Feelings. All that shit.” He scratched the back of his neck, eyes flicking down briefly before returning to yours. “But I want this. I want you."

Jake let out a quiet huff behind you, shifting closer as he nuzzled the back of your shoulder. “He’s always like that,” he whispered, “I was the one who confessed first. Initiated the first kiss. First sex.”

Jay’s head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing. “You asshole,” he muttered.

“You blushed when I touched your wrist,” Jake added, grinning now.

“I was cold,” Jay shot back. You laughed then soft, but real—and both of them stilled like they’d been waiting for the sound. Jake’s smile softened, and Jay, still glaring at his boyfriend.

Jake grinned wider. “He literally couldn’t make eye contact for twenty-four hours after we slept together the first time.”

“I hate you,” Jay muttered, but he was already reaching for you again, hand slipping beneath the blanket to rest on your stomach, drawing you back toward him as he curled in behind.

“You don’t,” Jake replied, smirking as he met your gaze. “He just never knows how to say the nice shit.”

“I will push you off this bed,” Jay warned to keep Jake from opening his mouth again. “Then we’ll fall together,” Jake countered smoothly, wrapping an arm tighter around your waist.

You sank into their warmth, nestled between their bodies. You turned your face slightly, resting your cheek against Jay’s collarbone while one of your hands found Jake’s under the blanket.

For a long, comforting moment, no one spoke. Then, quietly, Jay’s voice rumbled near your ear. “Were we too rough earlier?”

You shook your head without hesitation, cheek still pressed to his collarbone. “No. I needed it,” you murmured, honest and calm. “It pushed me out of my head. That’s what I needed.”

Jake’s hand tightened slightly around yours, and he smiled softly. “So… are we okay now?”

You turned your head toward him, lips curving with amusement. “That depends,” you said. “Was that makeup sex?”

Jake raised a brow, mouth twitching. “Wait—that wasn’t?”

Jay snorted behind you. “If that was just a warm-up, I’m scared to know what the actual makeup sex is supposed to look like.”

You laughed, low and a little breathless, the sound making both of them smile wider.

“I guess we’ll have to do it again,” Jake said, voice dropping just enough to make the tease linger. “Y’know. For clarity.”

It didn’t take long. Clothes were shed, tossed carelessly across the floor—shirts half-inside out, underwear tangled near the foot of the bed. You were on your back with Jake above you, his mouth on yours, his tongue moving with a tenderness that made your body ache all over again.

Then Jay moved. You barely had time to gasp before his hand curled into Jake’s hair, tugging sharply. Jake groaned into your mouth, the kiss breaking as Jay pulled him back.

“Not so fast,” Jay said, “You had your turn.”

He dragged Jake down the length of the bed, making him twist and arch, until Jake’s head was between your thighs, his back curved beautifully under Jay’s grip. Jake didn’t resist—he melted into the position, groaning as he inhaled the scent of you, mouth finding your cunt.

You gasped, your legs parting without thought. The sting from earlier still lingered, but it was chased by the familiar, glorious heat of Jake’s mouth. He licked into you slowly at first, tongue stroking over your clit.

Your back arched as he moaned against your folds, his face buried deeper. “F-fuck, Jake—” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his hair, hips twitching against his face.

Jay watched from behind him, one hand stroking down Jake’s spine, the other trailing lower. You didn’t see the moment he slipped his fingers between Jake’s cheeks, but you felt the way Jake moaned louder against your cunt, hips jerking slightly as Jay began working him open.

“Want to see you fuck him,” you breathed, voice cracked with need. “Please. I want to watch.”

Jake whimpered into your pussy, tongue fucking you deeper in response. Jay’s eyes lifted to yours. His fingers were slowly pushing into Jake. “She wants a show,” he said, leaning in to kiss Jake’s neck. “You gonna be good for her?”

Jake moaned again, his voice muffled by your cunt, and you tightened your grip in his hair, nails dragging across his scalp.

Jay’s hand slid away briefly, and you heard the soft click of the drawer beside the bed opening. A moment later, the quiet sound of a bottle opening filled the space. Cool lube met skin, and Jay didn’t hesitate—he returned to Jake’s body with a steady hand, working the slick between his cheeks.

Jake whimpered again, body shuddering beneath both of you. Jay kept stretching him, fingers moving in slow, deep circles, curling and scissoring in a rhythm that made Jake pant harder against your pussy. His mouth never stopped licking, sucking, groaning into your folds with more desperation the more he was opened up.

You looked down and nearly lost your breath at the sight: Jake’s flushed face buried between your legs, his lips wet and glistening, while Jay knelt behind him, eyes dark, and focused as his fingers slick, sliding in and out of Jake’s ass with increasing ease.

Jake was trembling now, his thighs twitched against the sheets, and you could hear the breathless hitch in his throat each time Jay’s fingers pressed just right inside him.

“She’s gonna see how good you take it." Jake moaned hard against your clit, and you cried out—your hips bucking into his face. He didn’t stop. If anything, he devoured you harder, tongue working you open.

Jay leaned forward, pressing a kiss between Jake’s shoulder blades. “You ready for me, sweetheart?”

Jake’s reply was only a ragged whine, and it made your pulse spike.

“Please,” you said softly, the only voice in the room not breaking. Jay’s eyes flicked to yours, gaze locking for one searing moment. Then he leaned forward, hand steady on Jake’s lower back, and began to push in.

Jake let out a strangled groan against your cunt, his tongue faltering for a heartbeat before diving back in with renewed force. Your legs tightened around his head, your hips rising helplessly into his mouth.

“Good boy,” Jay breathed, voice thick as he slid deeper. “Keep eating her.”

Jake moaned again, the vibration pulsing through your clit as Jay’s cock pressed deeper inside him. You could feel Jake struggling to hold rhythm, overwhelmed by the dual sensations—his mouth locked to your cunt while Jay slowly filled him from behind.

Jake’s fingers were clutching your hips, knuckles pale, his lips slick with your arousal as he flicked his tongue over your clit again and again—desperate, hungry, obedient. Behind him, Jay moved with a slow, grinding pace, hips rolling forward, burying himself inch by inch into Jake’s tight, slicked hole.

“Shit,” Jay groaned, head dropping for a second as his hands gripped Jake’s waist.

Jake whined against you, hips pushing back to meet Jay’s thrusts even as his mouth stayed locked on you, his tongue circling your clit in dizzying spirals. You could feel him moaning again and again.

Your hand threaded deeper into Jake’s hair, pulling tight, guiding his mouth where you needed him as your hips rolled shamelessly against his face. His moans were frantic now, high-pitched, especially when Jay snapped his hips forward harder—burying himself to the hilt.

His tongue was relentless, and the pressure was building again in your core, fast and burning, pulled taut by every flick of his mouth, every grind of Jay’s cock rocking through him from behind.

You were right on the edge—suspended between pleasure and the raw thrill of watching them together.

Jay’s rhythm grew rougher, his groans more ragged. One hand slipped from Jake’s hip to curl around his waist, holding him in place, deepening every thrust. The wet slap of skin filled the room, matched by the obscene, eager sounds of Jake’s mouth on your cunt.

Your back arched. Your breath hitched. “I’m—fuck—Jake!” you cried, your orgasm tearing through you.

Jake moaned loud and deep into you as you came, your body spasming under his tongue, your legs clamping around his head as your hands tangled tight in his hair. You rode it out on his mouth, grinding into him, the pressure of Jay’s thrusts making Jake groan right through your high, pushing you even further.

Your body melted into the sheets, chest heaving, but your eyes stayed locked on the scene unraveling in front of you.

Jay didn’t relent. He adjusted his grip, arms slipping under Jake’s chest to haul him higher, fucking into him harder from behind with a pace that was nothing short of brutal. His skin slapped against Jake’s ass with wet, relentless rhythm, and Jake took it beautifully—his moans muffled, body twitching with every deep thrust.

You watched them, your lips parted, breath shallow. Both their faces were flushed and wild, lost in each other. And instead of jealousy, the sight only fed the fire already burning in your gut. The ache that never really went away around them now pulsed hotter, deeper.

Jake’s voice broke as he moaned loud enough to echo through the room. “Jay, baby—oh fuck!”

Jay reached up, tangled a fist in Jake’s hair, and yanked him back just enough to crush their mouths together. The kiss was messy, desperate, teeth clashing, tongues sliding, both of them breathing into each other’s mouths.

The noise of it made you whine. You couldn’t stay still. You crawled forward on shaky limbs, eyes locked on Jake’s cock, thick and flushed and bouncing wildly with every one of Jay’s thrusts.

Your hand wrapped around it in one slow, sure stroke, and Jake shouted into Jay’s mouth. Jay pulled back just slightly, his eyes flicking down to see your hand wrapped tightly around Jake’s length, pumping him in time with the rhythm of their bodies.

Jake’s head fell back, hips jerking forward into your touch, his stomach tight and trembling. His mouth opened in a silent gasp, then a broken moan when you dragged your thumb over his leaking tip, smearing the precum down his shaft.

“Fuck,” he choked, voice shaking. “That—God, that feels so good.”

Jay groaned behind him, his rhythm stuttering just for a second at the sight in front of him. His gaze dropped to where your fingers wrapped around Jake’s cock—your nails catching the light, long and perfectly shaped, moving over him in steady, merciless pumps.

He hissed through his teeth, fucking into Jake harder. Jake moaned again, louder this time, his whole body pushing back into Jay while thrusting forward into your hand. His eyes fluttered open, hazy and wild as they met yours, lips parted.

Jay’s voice cut. “Lay down, baby.”

You blinked, heart pounding. You released Jake’s cock with one last stroke, watching his hips twitch at the loss, and moved backward on the bed without a word. You lay back across the pillows, your legs parting instinctively as you settled into the space, your body already pulsing in anticipation.

Jay pulled out of Jake with a slick, wet sound, his hand curling around Jake’s hip to steady him. “Come on,” he said, gaze flicking to Jake, then to you. “Enter that pussy and ride my dick.”

Jake didn’t wait. He crawled over you immediately, his hands braced on either side of your shoulders, and with one fluid motion, he lined himself up and sank into you.

You gasped, hands flying to his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as the stretch hit you hard all over again. Your walls were still sensitive, still twitching from your last orgasm, and now he was filling you again.

Behind him, Jay didn’t waste time. He adjusted, positioned himself, and with one slow, deliberate push, slid back into Jake’s ass.

"Ahhh!" Jake’s whole body jolted. A strangled sound caught in his throat, mouth crashing into yours in a kiss that was sloppy, all tongue and open breath. His hips began to move almost immediately, short shallow thrusts between your legs while Jay drove into him from behind.

“F-fuck,” Jake moaned into your mouth, pulling back only to drop his lips to your throat. He bit down hard—just enough to make you cry out—then dragged his mouth lower, tongue hot on your skin as he kissed, licked, and bit his way down to your collarbone.

Your fingers clutched at his back, and every time he thrust forward into you, it was followed by the shock of Jay’s cock driving him forward again—his motion caught between both your bodies.

Jake was trembling, moaning louder than ever, his rhythm completely overtaken by Jay’s pace. Every thrust from behind forced him deeper into you, the sensation nearly too much. His moans spilled against your throat, turning into helpless gasps as his cock slid in and out of your soaked cunt.

His voice broke in short, frantic cries. “Jay! Jay—please, baby, oh God—”

His mouth returned to your neck, teeth scraping the skin before he latched on, biting down with desperate force. The sharp sting drew a gasp from you, the pain blooming into pleasure just as Jake’s hips jolted forward again, burying himself to the base.

He held there for a moment—frozen, panting, his breath hot against your skin. His back was slick with sweat beneath your palms, muscles twitching under your touch.

Then he pulled back, just enough for you to see his face. His lips parted, breath shaky and shallow. His eyes were unfocused, lashes wet, the flush across his cheeks deep and burning. He looked wrecked, and completely beautiful—mouth closed now.

You clenched around him involuntarily. “You’re so beautiful,” you whispered, voice trembling with emotion. “So fucked-out.”

Your hips rose instinctively, pushing up into him, your body begging for more, for all of it.

Jake let out a shuddering groan. He rolled his hips again, slow and deep, and the way you took him made him press his forehead to yours.

Behind him, Jay didn’t slow. He was pounding into him with brutal control, groaning with every thrust, his grip locked tight around Jake’s hips to keep him in place. You could feel each stroke reverberate through Jake's body, transferring into yours.

“F-Feels so good—ahh, fuck—feel so good!” Jake cried out, voice cracking, mouth open in a moan that bordered on a sob.

You reached up with a shaky hand, brushing the damp strands of hair from his face, your thumb stroking gently along his cheekbone. He leaned into the touch, lips trembling, eyes half-lidded and glassy.

Your body clenched again, the pressure cresting high, unbearable and exquisite.

“I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, hips lifting to meet his every desperate thrust. “Jake—cum with me, please—ahh—now!”

Jake’s breath hitched, his hips faltered before he slammed into you one final time, burying himself deep. His entire body seized, a loud, gasping moan torn from his chest as he came hard, cock pulsing inside you with wave after wave of heat.

You fell with him, your orgasm ripped through you, stealing the breath from your lungs as your cunt clenched around him, milking every drop of his release. Your cry echoed into his mouth as he kissed you again.

“Fuck—both of you are so hot—God—”

Jay’s pace grew rougher, deeper, his restraint unraveling with every breathless sound spilling from Jake’s lips, every clench of your cunt around Jake’s cock. He watched you both, panting, his hands gripping Jake’s hips so tightly his knuckles had gone pale.

“Fucking hell,” Jay growled. Jake moaned again, overstimulated and soft, his forehead still resting against yours as Jay buried himself one last time with a low groan,

You felt it in Jake’s shudder, the way his breath stilled as Jay’s cock throbbed deep inside him. The sound Jay made as he emptied himself, his body pressing tight to Jake’s back.

Jay was the first to exhale, his lips ghosting over the back of Jake’s neck as he slowly eased out. Jake let out a soft whimper, his body twitching from the sensitivity, and you wrapped your arms tighter around him, one hand sliding over his spine.

Jake collapsed onto you gently, his full weight cushioned by your body, his cheek pressed to your shoulder as he panted, still flushed and wet with heat. You stroked his hair, letting your fingers card slowly through the damp strands.

Jay shifted beside you, climbing up the bed on unsteady arms before dropping down on your other side. His chest was heaving, he wrapped one arm around your waist, hand splayed across your stomach, fingers brushing softly against your skin.

Jake tilted his face up to look at you. “You okay?” he whispered, voice hoarse.

You nodded, stroking his cheek. “Yeah,” you breathed. “Better than okay.”

Jake gave a breathless laugh, burying his face briefly into the crook of your neck. “Fuck,” he groaned, still catching his breath. “That was the most delicious orgasm I’ve ever had."

You chuckled, breath hitching a little as you threaded your fingers into his hair again.

Jay leaned in from your other side, his body pressing close, his mouth trailing a soft kiss along your shoulder before brushing Jake’s temple. His arm wrapped around the both of you, pulling you tighter into the warmth of him. Your legs tangled instinctively, bodies nestled under the sheets that now clung to the lingering heat of sex and skin.

None of you spoke for a moment, the silence stretching comfortably between heartbeats and shallow breaths.

Then you glanced between them, your voice still breathless. “So…” you murmured, a small smile pulling at your lips. “Does this mean I have two boyfriends now?”

Jake’s head popped up slightly, a crooked grin forming. “Only if you’re okay being heavily spoiled and never allowed to escape.”

Jay made a quiet sound of amusement beside you, his thumb brushing a lazy line along your hip. “We’re clingy,” he said, voice low, eyes half-lidded but sincere. “Terrible at sharing. Lucky for us, we just want the same person.”

You laughed, letting yourself melt back into the weight of them, your body still pulsing with quiet aftershocks and warmth. “I think I can live with that,” you said softly, eyes fluttering closed as their hands continued to drift gently over your skin.

And then you suddenly remember something. Your eyes snapped open as panic surged through your chest.

“Shit—Sunoo!”

You shot up so fast that the blanket fell off your chest and Jake practically flinched, startled, his sleepy post-orgasm daze completely shattered. Jay blinked at you from behind, frowning in confusion. Then he realizes what you meant.

“Sunoo!!!”

Jake’s voice echoed across the grassy field the next day, dramatically over-the-top as he broke into a slow-motion sprint—arms wide, expression exaggerated with mock desperation.

You couldn’t help but laugh under your breath, trailing behind him with your fingers laced through Jay’s. Sunoo, on the other hand, stood perfectly still ahead, arms crossed, expression locked in a glare.

Just as Jake went in for a hug, Sunoo’s palm came up and smacked him square across the face—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to jolt the dramatics right out of him. Jake stumbled back, blinking.

“You didn’t text, you didn’t call, and my best friend just disappeared with you two?” Sunoo snapped, pointing an accusing finger toward you and Jay.

You smiled awkwardly, offering a sheepish little wave behind Jake’s shoulder.

“She fainted!” Jake explained, hands flying up. “We were busy assisting her. Medical-grade care. You should be grateful your best friend fell into the right hands.”

Sunoo’s eyebrow arched so high. His gaze slowly dropped to your neck… and then narrowed. “Yeah, right,” he said dryly, arms crossing again. “That why she’s covered in poorly hidden hickeys?”

Jake blinked, he slowly reached out and bit his own finger, eyes wide as he turned to stare at you. “Babe,” he whispered. “You said you’d cover those.”

You flushed, dragging the collar of your shirt higher with a quick tug. “I did! Jay distracted me!”

Sunoo rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Dodgeball’s starting now—don’t actually faint this time.”

Your fingers gently slipped away from Jay’s, reaching out to Sunoo instead. You slid your arm through his as you began walking beside him, your shoulder brushing his. He let you lean into him without hesitation.

“I assume the three of you are okay now,” Sunoo said after a pause, voice lighter, the faintest smile tugging at his lips.

You leaned your head against his shoulder. “I’m still scared,” you admitted. “But… as long as I’m with them, I think I’ll be fine.”

Sunoo gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, well. You’ve got me at your back too.”

Jake popped up beside Sunoo, slinging an arm over his shoulder with a wide grin, pressing in close to you on the other side. Jay followed right behind, falling into step beside you with that calm, quiet presence that always made you feel anchored.

“So,” Jake said casually, stretching his arms above his head before locking them behind his neck. “What do you guys want to eat later? Because I’m seriously craving some Samyang Buldak noodles.”

Sunoo stared at him, blinking once. Then, flatly: “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jake blinked back, innocent. “What?”

“It’s thirty-four degrees,” Sunoo said, gesturing wildly to the sky like the sun itself was his witness. “And your dumbass is out here craving spicy death noodles? Are you okay? Do we need to check for brain damage?”

"Well, I love spicy!" Jake scoffed, throwing his hands up.

Their voices quickly dissolved into muffled bickering again—Jake insisting it was about heat and thrill, Sunoo arguing that eating molten fire under the sun was a cry for help.

Jay exhaled a quiet laugh beside you, his fingers brushing against yours. You felt the heat of it—not from the sun, not from the air, but from them.

From all of this. And as you watched your best friend and your boyfriend argue, with Jay steady at your side and your pulse still echoing from the day before, you couldn’t help the smile curling at your lips.

Maybe Jake was right.

Maybe a little spicy-ness was exactly what made life interesting.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enha smut #jay x reader #jake x reader #jay smut #jake smut #enhypen x reader #jay x jake

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tonycries · 1 year ago

Text

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy - G.S.

Synopsis. He knows that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels. And you know that you want nothing more than to stay by his side. After meeting an alluring cowboy at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, both of you are sure of one thing - this must be fate.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, wild west! AU, cowboy! Satoru, mayor’s daughter! Reader, Satoru is SO DOWN BAD, angst, kinda slowburn, friends-to-lovers, bartender! Nanami, cunnilingus, oral sex (female + male receiving), unprotected sex, gun violence, pet names (m’lady, my love, + others), tumbleweed bandits, reader and Satoru are both going through stuff, Gege cameo, swearing, author’s daddy issues come out.

Word count. 12.1k (I’m scared)

A/N. You know how hard it was to make this all cowboy-y. Anyway that’s off the bucket list.

Art by @_3aem on X.

“So, you itchin’ for a beating from me or yer’ wife?”

Glowering down at the drunk old pervert as he waddled away in fear, you sigh as you dust down your heavy skirts. Typical. The sun beats down on your face as you look up at that familiar faded banner.

Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon

The only bar in your little town of Rustcliffe, and by default the only one around for miles. You hated this place - not the saloon, no, the handsome bartender there was always a sweetheart. But at some point, the comfort of your quaint old town had become too comfortable.

But that’s a story for another time. Right now, you were here to drag your father back home - per usual.

Rolling your eyes at the cacophony of drunken voices carrying from inside, you step through the dust-bitten swinging doors.

What hits you first is the stench of cheap alcohol, and then the inebriated camaraderie of the men around you. In the dim lighting of the saloon, you squeeze through the crowded tables and make your way to the bar.

Not a hair out of place, as usual, Nanami lights up when he spots you. “Well, it’s been a while. Here for the mayor again?” he speaks over the boisterous laughs around you.

You flash him a smile, “Yeah, you know my father. Fraternizin’ with the voters and all that.” you wave off your father’s excuse to come down here.

“Certainly takes his job very seriously.” Nanami chuckles, “You’ll find him over by the window, in the back.” he points.

Tipping your head in thanks, you walk the treacherous track to take your animated father home. When you come in view of his table, you find that he wasn’t alone. Damn, it was always harder to convince him to go when with other people.

You know your father has spotted you by his lively laugh and gleeful shouts, “Ah, my daughter! My beautiful daughter! Whatcha doin’ here? Come come! There’s someone I wan’ introduce you to.”

A smile slips out unintentionally at his almost-endearing pride. You mentally prepare yourself to say some awkward hellos to some of your father’s old drinking buddies before dragging him home.

Upon reaching your father, he immediately pulls you into a drunken embrace, wrapping his slightly rocky arm around your shoulders. “This is the daughter I was telling ya about! Prettiest girl in town! Hell, maybe even the country, knowin’ ma girl.” he prattles.

In his jovial state, he abruptly turns to face whoever he was drinking with, unsteady on his two feet. Probably another old geezer, you assume not taking your eyes off your father until you could make sure he won’t collapse on the bar floor for the third time this month.

Finally, you look up.

Your eyes meet blue.

Blue, blue summer skies.

To Satoru, you were the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen. As soon as he caught a glimpse of you menacingly threatening that creep outside through the window, every word the mayor said went in one ear and he couldn’t even remember if it went out the other. Too entranced.

And when he introduced you as his daughter? Shit, it might just be fate.

“C’mon now boy! Cat got yer’ tongue? What happened to that sharp mouth of yours?”

The booming voice of your father snaps Satoru out of his captivation. Damn, he must’ve been staring for too long.

Mentally praying you weren’t spooked by his speechlessness, he finally speaks, voice slightly shaky at your presence, “Ah- Good day m’lady. Apologies for my impoliteness, the name’s Satoru Gojo.” he tips his crisp white hat. Gently grasping your hand in his, he places a delicate kiss, looking up at you as he awaits your response.

You gaze, slightly awe-struck, at his ethereally beautiful white locks and the impish grin from where he held your hand. His lips were so soft.

“Oh!” you startle at the clap of your father’s hand on your shoulder. Shit, you were definitely staring too long. Rushing to introduce yourself, you quickly interject a “Nice to meet you, Satoru” before your father starts leading the conversation once more.

“Satoru here is a traveler, arrived jus’ today! Told him people like us could never, I mean imagine, right?” he slurs.

Your ears perk up at this piece of information, “Oh? Are you really a traveler, Satoru? How admirable.” you gush, previous bashfulness forgotten. Was that…a blush spreading across his face? Couldn’t be - your town's whiskey was known to give people rosy cheeks on occasion.

“Thank you, m’lady. It’s nothing special really, jus’ staying here a while.” he barely gets the words out before you father bellows a tangent - “Don’ be shy, boy! How wondrous traveling is, kids these days could use some toughening up!”

Both of you rush to catch your father as he sways with a passion seen only during election rallies. It takes the two of you to steady the man. As he continues babbling half-lucidly, you cock your head sweetly at Satoru, “Help me take him outside?”

Satoru thinks his knees might give out then and there.

The air is chilly by the time the three of you step outside, sun making its way below the horizon. Despite your father’s protests that he can ride home on his own, he knocks out as soon as Satoru gracefully mounts him on his horse. Carefully saddling behind him, you try to make sure your father doesn’t fall off of Satoru’s beautiful white Quarter horse.

“You really don’t have to escort us home, Satoru. My ol’ man wouldn’t even feel it if he fell, I swear.” you insist as Satoru holds onto the reins from the ground, feeling bad for bothering him.

“It’s no trouble. After all, Gege seems to like him very much, hm?” Satoru remarks as he turns to his stallion, who attempts to bite him in response, “Can’t say the same for myself.”

“Hmm, how can I be sure yer’ not a serial killer?” you tease, reveling in the sharp laugh it draws from him.

“You’ll jus’ have to take a chance on me, m’lady.” he hums, eyes sparkling with mirth. There’s a lull in the conversation as Satoru pulls on the reins to start walking you down the road, the rhythmic clip-clop! of the horse filling the still air.

“So you travel?”

“This is a nice town.”

Both of you speak at once, anxious to fill the silence, only to sputter self-consciously.

“You can-”

“No no, it’s only customary for a lady to go first.” he hums, looking up at you.

“Tell me stories of your travels.” you breathe out, eager for any crumb of escape from your little town.

As you made your way home to the sprawling family ranch, the night adorned itself with twinkling stars that matched the mischievous glint in Satoru’s eyes as he told you bizarre tales from his life on the road.

“IN MY DEFENSE, it was dark an’ that tumbleweed was shaped suspiciously like a lowly bandit. Hey- don’t laugh- it was a very heated standoff!” Satoru exclaims animatedly as you cackle.

“Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that, cowboy. Even bandits woulda run away from your clownery.” delighted at the way the moonlight illuminates the blush that tinges his ears.

Making a fool of himself, Satoru’s stories have you laughing until your cheeks hurt, wishing you could experience them too. You almost forget about your father’s deafening snores and the bite of the wind.

But Satoru does not. Brows furrowing as he catches your slight shiver, he mentally berates himself for forgetting his manners. How dare he let a lady suffer the cold while he still had his fuckin’ coat! What a sorry excuse for a cowboy, this is worse than that time he accidentally lassoed a rattlesnake.

Hastily shrugging his coat off, he passes it to you with a sheepish smile on his face.

Face heating up against the cold draft, you breathe in the smell of pine, amber, and something so Satoru. Clearly not as affected as you are, Satoru launches back into his stories.

If Satoru thought his knees were going to give out before then he knows they’re about to now. He aims to keep his eyes steadfast on the road as he recalls his endeavors, because he’s aware that even one glance at you all wrapped up in his coat wouldn’t be too good for him.

Making out the warm lights in the distance, his heart falls as he realizes his time with you is drawing to an end. You seem to share similar sentiments, as you sigh silently.

Once again, a silence falls upon you two (well, three if your slumbering father counted) - but this time, it was serene. You could almost drift to sleep if it wasn’t for your mother’s frantic calls for you from the front porch.

“Oh, darlin’, I was so worried! I didn’t think it would be so late out!” she frets as Satoru helps you get down from his horse. Hands on your waist searing into your skin.

Clearly awoken due to the commotion, your dad stumbles his way down and towards your red brick villa.

“Ah, honey! I’m home…somehow…you know, I met the most interesting fella Something-toru. A wanderer, real interesting.” turning comically to Satoru, he exclaims in delight “Something-toru! How didya get ‘ere?”

Stifling his laughs, Satoru backs away, claiming he had to leave before your father roped him into more rounds of drinks. Which clearly didn’t work because your mother approaches him, “Stay, Satoru, stay! Can’t have you sleepin’ underneath some tree when you escorted our darling daughter all the way out here.”

Any refusals are immediately blocked out by your very inebriated father yelling out in agreement, claiming he wanted to listen to more of Satoru’s “funny lil’ stories”. Your parents head inside - well, more like your mother heads inside with your father in tow - having taken his speechlessness for agreement.

As you follow, you turn to Satoru, a strange part of you gleeful at the fact you won’t have to part with him for now. “We’ve got an extra room, and it’s got yer’ name on it. The stablehand will stall Gege, c’mon, it’ll be a lot better than the ground.” you grin.

“Hey! The ground can be very comfortable.” Satoru declares defensively, yet follows you inside anyway.

It’s only rushed goodbyes and promises to talk tomorrow morning as the housemaids fuss around Satoru. “Goodnight m’lady.” he’d winked as your head housekeeper clutched her pearls at his dirty boots on her recently polished hardwood floors.

That night, as you lay in your childhood bed, you realize that you still have Satoru’s coat on. Whether from his coat or something else entirely that you did not want to explore, you felt so warm inside.

---

Morning dawns with the symphony of the Western meadowlark that nudges you gently awake - usually. Today, it’s abruptly shattered as the door bursts open and someone barges into your room. Judging by the thud of hefty boots, you knew very well who it was.

“Rise n’ shine, m’lady!” Satoru’s voice - way too cheerful for six in the morning - chirps out.

It’s been a few days since Satoru has been staying with you. Now more a friend than a guest, you expect he’s come to wake you up for a morning ride with Gege, watching the sun rise as you exchange silly banter. But it’s so early…

“What do you want, Something-toru.” you grumble out from in-between your comfy covers. You secretly delight at his whines of “How dare you not remember my name, I even told you about the rattlesnake lasso!”

The warmth of your bed and the melody of Satoru’s voice has you sluggishly falling back asleep - that’s before he promptly sits on your bed. The force of it bouncing you both, making you sit up with a laugh.

Satoru was on your bed.

Satoru was on your bed. Shit, after what your father told him this morning, he wouldn’t blame you if you kicked him out with a punch to his pretty nose right this second. Mentally slapping himself a million times over, he hurriedly gets out the reason he was sent in to wake you up in the first place, “Ah- Um, the mayor is meeting with…someone important, wanted you to come down and meet him. Well, if tha’s all then I’ll be going, Gege won’t brush himself, sadly.”

And before you could get another word out, he’s swiftly out the door.

Satoru was on your bed. Your cheeks slightly heat up as you realize you didn’t mind?

His words ring in your ears as you get ready for the day - if it was someone important, then you might as well dress to impress. Impress someone else too. Shaking off these strange thoughts from your mind, you make your way downstairs, nose wrinkling at the smell of tobacco that greets you.

You’ve always hated the stench of the overpriced tobacco your father brings out to impress guests. “There she is! My daughter!” your father smiles, beckoning you over. “There’s someone who’s here to see you.”

Grimacing at the cloud of smoke, you take a seat on the plush sofa beside your father. He gestures at the man seated in front of him, “This here is Naoya.”

Despite his sharply handsome features, you shift uncomfortably at the way he watches you like a predator appraising his prey, eyes following your every movement. Apparently approving of what he saw, his lips curl into a smirk, “Your future husband.” he says saccharinely sweet.

What the fuck?

“Father?” you panickedly turn to him for answers, voice strained at your attempt to keep it even. But your father merely guffaws out a laugh, “Well well, nothing confirmed just yet. But you know with the way things are going with the re-election, might as well get to know a suitor and...” his voice trails off as he takes another puff of his cigar.

“My apologies sir, I refuse.” you drone out, looking straight at Naoya. You don’t miss the way his smirk grows leeringly as he mutters “You don’t have too much of a say in this matter, sweetcheeks.” The audacity.

Apparently your father doesn’t hear, a more grave expression taking over his face, “Now I’ve talked with Naoya, you’re of marriageable age. And as young as I feel, I won’t be around forever. You need someone to take care of you, dear. We’ve talked about this.”

Tears prick at your eyes as you abruptly stand up, disturbing the smoke around you. “I can take care of myself.” you spit out venomously, storming your way to the heavy front door in an attempt to run away from this situation.

In the dim sunlight filtering through the curtains, Naoya watches in amusement as you stomp out of the room. Hilarious, the feisty ones were always the best.

Over the mayor’s ramble of apologies, he grins “No don’t worry about that. She’ll be mine either way.”

The heavy wooden door creaks in protest as you slam it shut, echoing your frustration. The brisk air is a temporary relief from the suffocating atmosphere inside.

“Talked about this” your ass. Every conversation - if you can even call them that - was a heated warning about being married off before you end up a spinster. You couldn’t care less about ending up alone if it didn’t mean living life with a man that talked to you like that.

Your thoughts block out the crunch of the gravel beneath your boots as your feet subconsciously lead you to the stables, where you used to play hide-and-seek as a kid. More recently, though, it has become an escape from conversations like these.

Approaching its familiar wooden doors, you catch a glimpse of Satoru, back turned and meticulously grooming Gege.

Sensing your presence, he turns with an easy smile that quickly fades as he notices the deep furrow of your brows. “Hey there, m’lady. Everything alrigh’?” cerulean eyes flit across your face worriedly.

“Oh yeah, everything’s great. Just got introduced to my absolute asshat of a future husband.” as if Satoru’s concerned expression makes something in you snap, the words tumble out along with your tears.

“I don’t even- The way he looked at me- Can you even believe?”

Satoru was about to rip apart whoever this load of horse manure was that made tears streak down your pretty face. Throwing his brush down - which Gege didn’t quite appreciate - he quickly envelopes you in his arms, letting you muffle your sobs.

“Hey hey. It’ll be alright, we’ll work something out. I promise, m’lady.” he consoles.

Eventually, as your cries die down, you look up to see the rising sun casting a soft glow on Satoru’s features, illuminating the sincerity in his gaze.

The determined glint in his eyes emboldens you, “Yer’ right, I will not be forced into a marriage, especially with someone like Naoya. I’m not anyone’s property.”

A subtle warmth is present in Satoru’s gaze as he utters, “Tha’s my girl.” before reeling back and backtracking immediately, “Ah! I mean- good for you m’lady. Naoya ain’t the one. Anyway, tell me about this ‘asshat’.”

You raise a brow teasingly at his rapid change of demeanor, before plopping down on the hay, launching into your first impression of Naoya and why the rumors downtown of him making babies cry were probably true.

The sun shines high in the sky as you lay there in peaceful silence, only to be broken by the doubt weighing heavy on your mind. “I’m scared.” you admit.

Satoru turns from his place beside you from the hay, “It’s alright, you got Gege and myself beside you. If Naoya ain’t the one then he ain’t the one.”

Your eyes meet his twinkling gaze, “Yeah, he’s not the one.”

The air grows charged with something unspoken as the silence stretches out. Satoru can feel the tips of his ears burning at your words - stop it Satoru, she didn’t mean anything by it. As always, he retreats into humor to break the crackling silence.

“I’d help you hide the body, y’know. Then you can have a shotgun wedding with whoever you want to share your days with.”

“Oh yeah? What if he turns out just like that asshat?” you challenge.

“Well, if it doesn’t work out, you can always run away with me. Fightin’ tumbleweeds together.” Satoru makes light of the situation, in an attempt to etch that beautiful smile on your face once more. It works, as you throw your head back and laugh.

“Yeah, I’d love that.” you get out in-between giggles.

If someone looked at you like Satoru did, you probably wouldn’t mind marrying them. A voice whispers in the back of your mind, sending your brows furrowing once again.

Meanwhile, Satoru finally had a name for your future not-husband - Naoya.

Urgently getting up and removing the hay stuck to your clothes once you hear your housemaids calling for you, you leave Satoru with a grateful smile that had him swooning out loud immediately after the stable door shut - to the very visible judgment of Gege.

It felt like a knife in his chest when the mayor tittered secretly to him about your future husband this morning, thoughts of you getting married plaguing his mind all morning. Well, if you were happy then it’s fine, isn’t it?

He was halfway through imagining you in a beautiful dress of white when you’d arrived with a cloudy expression covering your gorgeous features. If Satoru had thought hearing about your fiancé was like being stabbed, then the despair on your face made him feel like he was completely cleaved in half.

You deserve someone that deserves you. Probably not him. Certainly not Naoya.

Walking back to the house to fetch his riding gloves, he’s lost in the thoughts of standing off against a faceless man calling himself your husband when he bumps into somebody.

“My apolog- Asshat?” Satoru blurts out at the man testily raising a brow at him.

“Excuse you, barn boy?” he fumes, at the nickname that slips by. Ah, he’s done it now. Lips tweaking into a forced smile, Satoru grits out, “Ah, apologies, sir. Cowboy tendencies.”

The air is tense as Naoya mutters, “Keep those to yourself.” He moves to walk past Satoru, before stopping close enough to utter words meant for only him to hear, “And stay away from my future bride. I saw the hay on her skirt, yer’ insane to think you’d have a chance, barn boy. Go back to wanderin’ around.”

Satoru stands rooted to the spot as Naoya walks off, too many emotions he can’t name whirling inside him. That morning, he stalks off for his longest ride since arriving at Rustcliffe - not coming back with Gege until well after midnight.

---

To Satoru, long rides always mean interesting dreams. Right now he was in a tap-dancing competition against a one-eyed alligator who looked suspiciously like your father. It’s a shame - he was winning too - that the competition is suddenly crashed by an angel calling for him.

“Satoru…Satoru!”

An angel that sounded like…you?

“Satoru if you don’t wake up I’m feedin’ your boots to Gege.”

His eyes shoot open, yet his sleep-addled brain still struggles to process you standing over his bed, soft hands shaking his bare shoulders lightly. “Angel?” he rasps out.

You huff out a laugh, “No, I’m here to drag you to hell - or close enough at least.”

Face burning at already making a fool of himself before noon, he sits up in bed, blanket sliding off to reveal his toned upper-half.

Shit, it should be illegal to casually have a body like that.

Trying your best to avert your eyes from the dips and curves of his sculpted body, you continue, “My father’s holdin’ Rustcliffe’s annual Harvest Hoedown in a few weeks, the whole town’s gonna be there. You made it just in time for some dancing lessons.”

“What makes you think I need dancing lessons?” Satoru raises a brow playfully. You take a brief moment to admire the way his sleep-tousled hair curtains his alluring eyes, before replying in an ominous tone, “I need dancing lessons.”

Wow, you really did need dancing lessons, Satoru notes as he stifles a laugh when you step on the poor instructor’s foot for the fifth time this afternoon.

Locked in the stuffy studio, he recalls the way your father demanded that you not step one foot outside until you mastered the upbeat waltz for the hoedown - putting Satoru in charge of making sure you don’t slip away. “It’s stupid really, he’s never had a problem with me sitting out before. All because that asshat will be there…” you’d muttered hotly on the way.

Ah yes, that asshat. Sleep weighs heavily on Satoru’s eyes from riding all night long, yet his words still ring painfully in his ears. Who did he even think he was to have a chance with you?

Well, it’s alright, Satoru will be out of this town in a few months, and you’ll marry some man of your choice that could give you everything you could ever want.

The only thing that snaps Satoru out of his overthinking tirade is the abrupt pause of the music and the heavy sigh the dance instructor lets out - clearly having taken a break for his own sake rather than yours. You shuffle sheepishly across the polished floor to where Satoru stands, “Was it worse than you thought?” you grimace.

“Well, you always do find a way to surprise me, m’lady” he teases, chuckling at your dramatic groan. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the instructor rushing outside for a smoke. Hopefully not because of your dancing…

You scoff in defense as Satoru’s cackles grow louder - having thought the same thing. “Well, I’m sure the great Something-toru is much better on his feet.”

Instead of retorting, he steps one heavy boot onto the waxy dance floor, holding out a hand expectantly. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

“But, there’s no music?” you raise a brow, yet you place your hand in his much larger ones. Soft, his hands were surprisingly soft. And so warm.

“Did I mention I was a great singer too?” he grins, a small dimple at the corner of his mouth as he pulls you closer.

Shit, it was way too hot to be cooped up in a dance studio. Or maybe it was just Satoru’s hand around your waist, making your skin burn through your heavy skirts. They flow around you as he glides you gently across the floor.

You train your eyes steadily on your feet - partly out of necessity, and partly out of fear of meeting Satoru’s intense gaze.

The only sounds filling the small studio were the squeaks of your boots and Satoru’s soft humming of a nonexistent tune. It was beautiful, his voice. It reminded you of calm summer days.

“Ah- sorry!” you panic as you step on his toe, only for him to pause his melody and huff out a laugh.

“Step on them as much as you want, m’boots are thick.”

You’re sure he meant this only to bate your embarrassment, but something about his words and the warm endearment in his gaze have your cheeks heating up. You focus on your steps in silence as he guides you patiently, tenderly.

Pride grows in your chest as you start stepping on his boots every six steps instead of two. Satoru seems to have noticed too, “Hey! You’ve improved, m’lady.” he whispers, as if afraid to break the stillness in that humid room as you two continue your silent dance.

Loud clapping from the doorway makes you two jump apart, shattering the serene bubble you’ve found refuge in. “Brilliant! I thought I’d come across my first hopeless case, yet you’ve worked absolute wonders Mr. Satoru!”

Your escape is quick, you urgently drag Satoru out the door before he can be forcibly recruited as a dance teacher.

You heave out a sigh of relief at your freedom from the treacherous clutches of the dance studio. Merciless sunlight stinging your face, you begin to make your way through the dusty hustle and bustle of Rustcliffe in the afternoon.

Now, all you had to do was avoid bumping into your father for the rest of the day and you should be fine!

Speed-walking by Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, you’re confused when you’re faced with a few more drunken stares than usual. Surely your new skirt can’t be that flattering?

With a jolt, you realize you’re still grasping Satoru’s warm hand in his. Dropping it as if it burned, your cheeks heat up at the mirth on his features. “Not that I’m complainin,” he grins, “but warn a guy next time you manhandle him. S’not good for the heart, m’lady.”

Rolling your eyes at his joke, you begin pointing out the things to see as you walk the familiar old roads of Rustcliffe, detailing the town gossip.

It really was not good for his heart, Satoru was sure he’ll drop dead very soon one of these days because of you.

He couldn’t rip his eyes off of you as you animatedly talked about granny Wei wrestling Mrs. Davidson for her secret brownie recipe.

Shit, he was really getting in too deep.

Night falls fast, a deep shade of blue.

Saying your goodbyes to Nanami at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon - at a time you knew your father wouldn’t be around - your heart swells as Satoru excitedly rambles about “Good ol’ Nanamin! What a chip off the old block, we became fast friends y’know?”

You didn’t expect your mission to avoid your father to turn into an impromptu Rustcliffe tour. But watching Satoru’s face light up as you told him silly little stories of your childhood, you wouldn’t have changed it one bit.

Sent off with a cheery “Come back soon deary!”, you’re exhausted by the time you say all your goodbyes to the people of the town.

“You’re loved, y’know?” Satoru speaks up out of nowhere as you steady yourself behind him on the saddle.

“Hm?” you ask, fatigued from spending the day walking around town. A large hand caresses your cheek to rest your head against his back, tightening your arms around his waist.

Lightly snapping the reins, he repeats, “You’re loved.”

You drift on his words gently to sleep, the clip-clop! of the horse matching the deafening beat of your heart against your ribcage. If only you could be like this forever.

SLAM!

You wake up with a start, only to find yourself…hovering? Surely there must be a valid explanation - you really didn’t feel like doing an exorcism right now.

It takes a while of your nonsense to realize you’re being carried by strong arms supporting your back and legs.

“S-Satoru?” you ask blearily.

“Shhh, forgive me, m’lady. Didn’t think that damn door would be so loud.” he responds, bed creaking under his weight as he softly sets you down.

Smiling down at your incoherent mumbles, he whispers softly “It’s alrigh’, you can rest now. Goodnight m’lady.”

Struggling to rip his gaze from your gracefully sleep-addled one, it’s only the thought of someone in the house catching him in this position that makes him stand up.

A hand - uncharacteristically swift - grasps his wrist, stopping his tip-toeing to the door. “Satoru…” your groggy call of his name sends shivers down his spine. Hesitatingly following the gentle pull of your hand, he kneels beside your bed.

“Yes, m’lady?” he breathes.

You surge forward, sleep hazing the practical side of your mind. Acting on pure instinct, your soft lips meet his.

Satoru freezes in surprise as a beat passes. One. Two.

He stays in the same position when you flop back onto your pillow, soft snores filling the otherwise pin-drop silence. His lips burn as he brings up a hand to touch them in disbelief, stifling an euphoric laugh.

You startle awake in the middle of the night, after some questionable dream about Satoru carrying you to the bed and you kissing him.

Imagine. Ha!

Settling back into where you were carefully tucked into bed, you snuggle the warm coat at your side.

Wait. Shit.

---

If either of you remembered what happened that night, neither of you mentioned it.

Oftentimes, you questioned whether it was a dream. The only thing keeping you from fully believing so being the intensity in Satoru’s stare whenever his eyes briefly flickered to your lips and the hasty retreats whenever it seemed like you would bring up the topic.

But why wasn’t he saying anything? And why did he not want you to?

In fear of messing up the comfortable camaraderie you two had, you continued this magnetic dance of normalcy. But honestly could you really consider it “normal” if each gaze was charged with something neither of you could describe?

But why wasn’t he saying anything? And why did he not want you to?

You could only imagine the worst.

Satoru thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. Well, probably a bit below heaven, because - ideally - there you’d be his wife and Gege would actually like him.

It’s alright, even if just for a sleep-hazed second, he was yours. And he didn’t want to hear you apologize for it.

Still riding the euphoria of that brief kiss, he goes about life as usual, sure that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels.

---

“WELCOME ALL TO RUSTCLIFFE ANNUAL HARVEST HOEDOWN! WE GOT HARVEST, WE GOT HORSES, WE GOT SOME HOE- Oh- what? yes, dear that was on my script…” your father’s voice bellows across town from the loudspeaker.

You breathe in the warm, candy-scented air, fairy lights illuminating the colorful stalls selling everything from candied apples to binoculars (“Spy On Your Neighbors Without Worry!”).

Place ringing with the bustle and chatter of the town, you think it feels like something out of a picture book.

A warm smile finds its way onto your face, you’ve loved the Harvest Hoedown since you were a kid. Here, you can forget the longing for something more, the rows at home about your looming engagement, and most of all - you can almost forget Satoru.

Ever since that kiss, you’ve found it hard to face him. Sure, the banter and half-joking schemes to murder Naoya are the same. But your heart clenches every time he looks at you with a tender melancholy, losing the words to apologize for taking advantage of his kindness.

“Come come! It’s startin’!” you hear gleefully from your left. Before you can register what’s happening, you’re pulled into a circle of bodies dancing to an upbeat tune.

Laughter bubbling out of you as you lose yourself in the song, you turn to your right and see…your dance instructor, who is very visibly (and audibly) praying for his feet. Dramatic. You’ve learned a lot recently with Satoru’s help.

Oh, there he is again. For someone that leaves place so swiftly, he sure is set on living permanently in your mind.

Hidden amongst the audience, Satoru cackles at the distress on Mr. Dance Instructor’s face. Little did he know, with a bit of Satoru’s magic you’ve improved - stepping on his toes only once every fifteen steps!

He was so proud of his girl.

Ah, except you’re not. You’re so much more. And he’s reminded of that every time you averted your eyes from his during dance lessons, the proximity of your bodies doing nothing for how out of reach you felt to him.

He rips his gaze from you, walking away from the growing crowd. Where was that damn drinks table again?

It’s past twelve as the townsfolk start pairing up for the hoedown couples dancing. You’ve usually sat this one out, not one for the complicated steps nor the intimacy.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spy your parents waltzing in their own world. How nice it must be. Your supposed asshat of a dance partner was over by the drinks talking with some men, barely looking your way.

Guess the dance lessons were for nothing. Frustrated and slightly tipsy, you move to make your way off the dance floor.

Suddenly, a large hand blocks your view of the exit. Who the-

Satoru.

Ears tinged a pretty red, and eyes slightly dazed, he hiccups over the rich music “Would you- dance with me, m’lady?”

Maybe it was the beer, maybe it was the way his face flushed your favorite delicate pink - but you slide your hand into his warm one, “I’d be honored to, Satoru.”

A strong arm pulling you flush against his body, faces only inches apart. His hot breath fans you as Satoru murmurs, “Looked s’beautiful tonight. Best dancer in town I’d say.”

“Only cuz’ of you, Satoru.” you chuckle at his genuine tone as he steers you across the dance floor. Feet in perfect sync, the waltz fades into the background as you look into his tired eyes.

“Nah, tha’s all you, m’lady. I’m nothing much.” he grins morosely.

Your brows furrow at his words, clearly something was wrong. And this wasn’t the place to talk about it. “Come with me.” you utter, pulling him along with you to a place you knew he’d love.

Little ol’ Rustcliffe wasn’t called that for nothing.

The air is tense, the chatter of crickets fill the silence between you two as you guide him to your haven, hand still tightly in his. It’s a steep walk uphill from the outskirts of town, a place you’d stumbled upon during one dashing attempt to escape from this town as a tween.

“Finally here.” you exhale as you reach your destination, fireflies lighting the way.

“Hah- If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were tryin’ to murder-” Satoru’s voice dies in his throat as he drinks in the view before him.

The twinkling lights of the entire town of Rustcliffe reflect in his eyes like constellations. Townsfolk barely discernible from this distance, yet the soft jovial music carried over. It was beautiful.

Satoru looks at you in awe as you lay down on the ground and point upwards, “Tha’s not all, cowboy.”

Quickly getting on the ground beside you - albeit at a safe distance - his mouth gapes wider at the perfect carpet of stars above him. A celestial version of what he saw below. He turns his head to see you bathed in the moonlight. This place was beautiful.

“Satoru, are we okay?‘ you voice out in concern. He’s taken aback by the sudden turn in conversation. You cut off his scramble to make a joke, “I’m serious. Please talk to me.”

He can never win against you.

Heaving out a sigh, “Maybe. Who knows. But whatever it is, please don’t apologize for that kiss, let me have it.”

Now it’s your turn to be surprised, “Let you have it? Satoru, why wouldn’t you have it?”

“M’lady, I don’t know if you’re aware, but you’re like fireworks. Captivating and fierce. That kiss was a mistake, and soon enough you’ll find a rich, handsome-”

“I only want you.”

“I’m leaving soon.” he retorts.

“I only want you.” you repeat, stubbornly.

“I’m leaving m’lady.” he argues.

“No- Satoru-”

“And I’m childish. I’m insecure. I’ll never be able to provide for you the way you deserve.” he plows on, emotion cracking his voice.

“Satoru, I love you.” you breathe out.

Satoru’s breath catches in his throat, the silence was deafening. “What was that?” he turns, voice quiet with disbelief.

“Well, I don’t know if you’re aware, cowboy, but you’re like blue summer skies. And I just so happen to love blue summer skies.” you huff out, finally understanding the reason for his behavior these past few weeks.

“I don’t expect a huge mansion, or some enormous ranch, or even a cowboy that knows the difference between a lasso and a rattlesnake. I just don’t want anyone else, Satoru.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.”

“And…you’re sure? Really sure?”

“Yes.”

Silence punctures your conversation once more, broken only by a loud cackle. You turn in disbelief at his change in demeanor, “All cheered up now, Satoru?”

“Why would you have feelings for me? Was it the tumbleweed story that did it for you?” he gets out through laughs. It was contagious, and soon enough you yourself joined him, clutching your stomach.

In the thoughtful silence that follows, you find yourself inching closer to him until your faces are mere centimeters apart. “Blue summer skies and fireworks don’t go too well together.” he breathes.

“We’ll make something work out, remember?” you hum.

Your first kiss with Satoru was a sleep-addled mistake.

The second was when his lips capture yours as if they were the source of life itself.

Rolling on top of you, he’s careful to not rest his full weight as his lips don’t leave you, tongue caressing yours. Satoru tastes sweet - like hard candy and your father’s bottle of Baileys. Pulling away a hair's breadth, he whispers against your lips, “Let me be yours?”

“You probably say this to all the girls, hm?” you tease him, as revenge for making you wait so long. He softly bites your lips in retaliation, relishing in your drawn-out whine. “Yes, fine. If only you’ll let me be yours.”

Clearly approving of your answer, he continues his dance with your lips. Barely parting to breathe, as if it hurt to leave you.

And it did. A low groan sounds from the back of his throat as Satoru kisses you with the desperation from these past few weeks. His hands stayed firmly cupping your face, as if scared to move elsewhere. Yours, however, was wandering the expanse of his back, and it was driving him insane.

“M’lady…” he breathes out at the feeling of your legs wrapping around his hips, a warning.

You knew where this was going and you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything so bad. “Satoru, I need you.” you mutter, words punctuated by pecks to his swollen lips.

Maybe that’s the trigger that sets him off. It’s not long before Satoru is kissing you again. Pinning down your arms with one hand, he rolls his hips into yours. You gasp as you feel the outline of his hard cock straining against his trousers.

He was so big.

Your pussy drips with anticipation and fear of what was about to come.

Satoru thinks he might be getting whiplash, how was it that an hour ago he was moping in his loneliness and now he’s got you underneath him? Silently thanking whoever was up there, he wanders a hand down your body. Fingers trailing teasingly above where you wanted him the most.

“Tell me what you want, m’lady.” he rasps. Now Satoru is sure he’s getting whiplash when you grind your hips up into his hand, whining “Need you- on me.”

Skirts hastily pushed up, Satoru shuffles so his face is right hovering right above your pulsing core. In the cool moonlight, he can see the way you get wetter at each hot breath on your cunt. “Please Satoru.”

You were not good for his heart. Surging forward so he’s nose-deep in your pussy, Satoru’s tongue flattens against your swollen folds. His eyes roll to the back of his at your taste. You tasted better than the candy at the hoedown.

Your desperate whines for more send blood rushing to his cock, twitching achingly against his trousers. Leisurely dipping between your folds, he watches with blown-out eyes as you grind your hips deeper into his face, keeping a firm grip on his soft locks. Using him.

Shit, if this was your reaction to him teasing you…

Your whimpers of pleasure and lewd squelches of your cunt fill the night air as he plunges his tongue inside your clenching hole, fucking you at a merciless rhythm. His brows furrow as his tongue dips in and out relentlessly. He sinfully loves the burn of his scalp as you pull his hair to angle him just right.

Thumb harshly circling your clit, Satoru thinks he loses a bit of his sanity at every moan of his name that leaves your pretty mouth. “You taste s’good. So perfect for me, m’lady.” his voice sends vibrations to your pussy that have you feeling your heartbeat banging in two places.

“Hngh- Satoru, don’ stop!” you mewl as his nose catches on your clit, clamping down on his tongue. He continues his movements, breathing you in so sinfully. Air was overrated - Satoru Gojo, famously daring traveler and devilishly handsome, dies here between your legs. He wouldn’t even mind.

“Cum in my mouth, m’lady. Please.” he begs, voice muffled by your dripping cunt. He locks eyes with your fucked out ones as he pulls you by the thighs impossibly closer to him. He never wanted to part.

The stimulation of his voice in addition to his fingers and tongue becomes too much. “Satoru! Hah- M’ gonna cum-”

Tears spring to your eyes as you cum all around Satoru’s tongue. He doesn’t let up his harsh abuse of your pulsing pussy, groaning as he laps up your juices - your slick pooling at the corner of his mouth.

He was so greedy for you. Shit, this is so much better than he’s imagined every night he’s fucked his fist in that lonely room.

As both of you attempt to catch your breaths, the chattering song of crickets and distant music from the Harvest Hoedown fill the air once more. Satoru looks at you with a devious glint in his eyes that has your cunt twitching once more.

You’d felt his rock-hard length. And you wanted it now.

“Satoru. let me feel you in my mouth, please.” you murmur. Kneeling before him, you look up at him with eager eyes. At his slow nod, you give an experimental squeeze to the large imprint of his cock, thighs rubbing together at Satoru’s drawn-out hiss.

“Oh, m’lady. You drive me insane.” he groans.

Cursing the heavy trousers that cowboys wear, you fumble it down his legs. Muscles, creamy thighs come into your view, making your mouth water.

In the dim lighting, you see the precum drip down Satoru’s flushed cock. The prominent vein down his side glistens prominently. Shit, he’d never fit in your mouth let alone your cunt. But you wanted it so bad.

Satoru’s heavy breaths sound in the still air as your bruised lips inch closer to his throbbing cock. A deep breath, and you spit on his blushing head, saliva dripping down the side of his length and to where you gently grasped his base.

It was filthy, it was debauched. You absolutely loved it.

Satoru lets out a strangled moan as you flatten your tongue and take his tip into your mouth, sucking gently. He bucks his hips into your mouth as you run your tongue along his sensitive slit “Shit- Sorry, m’lady. You’re just hah- too good.”

Popping off his aching cock, you press kisses to the side of his length. He groans lowly at the vibrations as you speak about something that has been on your mind for a while now, “Satoru, don’t you think we’re past formalities now?”

“Well, I could call you my goddess?” he smiles. “Or my angel? Or-” Satoru chokes on his words as you take him fully into your mouth - partly because you needed him to shut up, and partly because you cunt ached with need.

“Sh-shit. Jus’ like that.” he rasps as you suck him at a dizzying pace. Precum drips down the side of your mouth as you take him in deeper - nose meeting the snowy white hair on his pelvis.

Your mouth burns at the stretch, his hips grinding lightly into your mouth to meet each bob of your head. Your pussy drips once more at how desperate Satoru was.

His mouth drops open in a silent gasp as you move to take his tight balls into your mouth. You admire the dazed look in his darkened eyes. “Oh god- I’m gonna cum. Please, let me cum in your mouth, m’lady.” he murmurs, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you continue your ruthless pace.

As soon as your lips are around his cock once more, Satoru comes fast and hard with a gravelly moan. Hot spurts of his seed dribble down the corner of your mouth as you take it all in.

Ah, this wasn’t what you had planned when you brought him here - but you sure weren’t complaining.

Satoru just about passes out when you stick out your tongue to show you’ve swallowed every drop of cum he gave, cock twitching once more. He needed you in a way that would make a hooker blush.

Finding his voice, “As much as I’d love to ravish you right here, m’lady, I think you deserve somethin’ a bit more comfortable.” He swats at a mosquito attacking him as you grin devilishly.

---

Gege has never flown across the dry ground of Rustcliffe faster.

Wind in your hair and Satoru’s arms warmly around your middle, you feel the thundering of his heartbeat against your back - matching your own. You admire his moonlit profile, the light casting an otherworldly glow over his cloud-like hair. You could probably go anywhere if it was by his side.

You’ve never been happier to see that familiar ol’ ranch.

Navigating your sprawling villa, you find, is close to impossible with a relentless Satoru pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck.

“Satoru…we gotta make it to the bed.” you giggle, drunk off of him rather than the liquor from before. He sighs impatiently, before promptly lifting you off of your feet. His hat and hip holster falling to god-know-where as he runs up the stairs to your bedroom with you in his arms.

The thud of heavy boot echoes throughout the empty house - your parents still at the Harvest Hoedown. It reminds you of the night you first kissed him. As he slams your door shut and pushes you against it, however, you never in your wildest dreams would have thought that it’ll lead to this.

Tongue tangling with Satoru’s, feet still not reaching the ground. You don’t think you’ll make it out of this alive. Nor will Satoru.

Satoru is definitely not making it out alive.

He’s barely stepped a foot into your bedroom before he’s got his hands all over you - groping and teasing every inch of your body he can find. Your legs wrapped around him, he holds you in the air, hands roughly squeezing your ass.

His lips don’t leave yours, tasting himself on your tongue - even as he bunches your skirts around your hips. Exhaling in relief as his hands meet your bare lips, he holds a finger to your pulsing core.

You whimper at the feeling, still sensitive from before. He drinks in your mewls of pain and pleasure, lips curling into a smug smile. “Still sensitive, m’lady? You poor thing. How will you take my cock if yer’ like this?”

Your groan of impatience turns into a panicked whine as Satoru moves towards the bed, “Maybe we should tuck you in bed for now? Continue this tomorrow?”

Reading the challenge in his eyes, you immediately free yourself from his hold. His confused gaze soon turns into a surprised one as you push him roughly onto the bed, straddling him after.

“You always do surprise me.” he laughs out between the magnetic kisses you leave on his lips. Buttons fling across the room as you rip his shirt in impatience - fingers too dripping in lust to work through them. You’re sure if the same could be done to your heavy prairie skirt, then it would’ve suffered a similar fate.

You run your hands along his sculpted body greedily, as you’d wanted to since the first time you saw him shirtless. He hisses at the friction and the impatience at wanting to do the same to you, fingers fumbling with your complicated clasps.

After much frustration and curses on whoever invented corsets, you’re finally exposed in front of Satoru.

Shit, he really should call you his goddess. Because in the dim lighting of your bedroom, he thinks he’s in heaven as you sit atop him, bare and needy for him. Fuck Naoya. Fuck any faceless suitable husband. Eyes half-lidded and lips kiss-bitten, you’re like this because of him.

Grinding his now-bare hips against yours, a low groan rips from his throat at the feeling of your swollen folds spreading against his aching cock. Your dripping slick mixes with his as he continues rutting into you.

“Ah! Enough teasin’, Satoru- Want you inside me.” you whimper sinfully.

Your words make Satoru snap. Wordlessly, he sheaths himself inside you with a sigh of relief. Moans leave his throat unrestrained as he bullies his cock deeper and deeper inside your hot cunt. “Fuck. S’tight, your pretty pussy is suckin’ me in so good m’lady.” he hisses out, brows furrowed in pleasure.

Satoru could feel himself losing more and more of his sanity every time your plushy walls clenched down on him as he pulled out to fuck up into with harsh thrusts. It was so animalistic, the way your perfect cunt couldn’t bear to part with him.

Your slick drips down his length and onto his heavy balls each time he rams into you at a merciless cadence. Soft yelps of his name leave your lips every time his tip kisses your cervix.

Ah, this time he was actually going to pass out. Your pretty whines, your dripping cunt, the way your tits jiggled so enticingly at each thrust - it was all too much.

Angling you slightly with his bruising grip on your hips, Satoru smiles with satisfaction at that one spot that makes you convulse on his cock. Abs burning at the pace, he hits it over and over. Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder, moans of his name leaving you against your will.

You were sure to be absolutely covered in marks tomorrow.

But that was a problem for later you. Right now, all you could focus on was grinding your hips down to meet Satoru’s thrusts, eager for him to hit that spot even harder. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the painfully good stretch of your snug cunt. So full.

“K-keep going, Satoru. Don’ stop, please.” Your rickety bed creaks in protest at each relentless thrust, overpowered only by the stinging smacks of his balls against your ass.

It was so filthy. So debauched. And you absolutely loved it.

As Satoru’s hands sneak down to draw rough circles on your clit, you feel yourself getting closer and closer towards cumming. Leaning down to capture his lips with yours once more, you whisper against his mouth, “Satoru, I’m- Hngh-”

He connects his sweaty forehead with yours, “Mm. me too. Fuck, gonna fill this pretty pussy up. You want that, m’lady?”

Just the thought of being so full of Satoru sends you over the edge. You cum with a lewd moan of his name, cunt clenching so impossibly tight around his cock.

“Ah! Shit.” Satoru grits out at the way your walls were fluttering around him so perfectly. Your whimpers as you gush around him sounds like music to his ears.

Satoru thinks he sees heaven as he cums. A part of his soul parting with him that night. Thick ropes of his seed paint your walls white, strained whispers of your name leaving his mouth as if a prayer. As if you were his goddess.

A feral part of him keeps bucking his hips into you, letting you ride out your highs together. Fucking his cum deeper and deeper - claiming you as his.

You do the same in your own way - biting down on Satoru’s exposed neck. Hard. His strong arms wrap around you to keep you from moving away, letting you use him as you please.

Cum drips down your legs, staining your blanket.

As your highs finally bate, you blink out the haze from your eyes. Looking up at Satoru from where you were snuggled into the crook of his neck, admiring the innocent blush adorning his face and his glossy, bruised lips. Both of you so overstimulated and euphoric.

“Got any travel stories like this?” you chuckle out, half-delirious and exhausted from what just transpired in this room.

“Not at all.” Satoru breathes out, pulling you closer to him, closing his hazy eyes to the sex-filled air.

That night, squeezed into your warm single bed, Satoru tells you stories of before his travels. You’re unsure if your parents are home yet, and right now with Satoru in your arms - you don’t care.

You listen as he rambles about growing up in the quaint town of Summer Pass. How he was raised with beautiful parents, a wonderful life. Yet, since the passing of his best friend, he’d taken up what the two had been dreaming of since they were children - wandering the world.

“I’m afraid, if I stay too long then it always ends up hurtin’.” he whispers into the still night. Caressing his hair, you pull him into your warm embrace. Your heart weighs heavy as the back of your mind pangs with the realization that Satoru will still leave despite this.

Both of you fall asleep reminiscing talks of your childhoods. In your exhausted state, maybe you misheard - but you could’ve sworn by the “I love you, m’lady.” Satoru whispered against your lips right before you closed your eyes.

Limbs intertwined till you’re unsure where one ends and the other starts, you have the most peaceful sleep in a long time.

You’re unsure when Satoru snuck out of your room. The only evidence of last night being the washcloth on your bedside table that he’d tenderly cleaned you up with, and a singular button from his shirt at the foot of your bed.

Cheeks heating once you catch sight of it, you make your way down to breakfast in your most well-covered dress.

What you certainly didn’t expect was to be interrogated by your mother. “So…” she begins. ”When did you come home, darling? We didn’t see you at the hoedown after midnight.”

Ah, suddenly these scrambled eggs just did not want to go down your throat. “Jus’...went to see somethin’ interesting.” you respond, eyes meeting with Satoru’s amused ones across the table as he subtly plays footsies with you underneath.

---

Sneaking around with a secret cowboy boyfriend doesn’t just happen in books, you realize. It’s a lot easier since Naoya is around a lot more often than usual. The only thing he might be good for may be keeping your parents entertained…

Since then, Satoru, you conclude, really does not like L-words: namely, Love and Leaving.

Despite his breathless confession that night, Satoru hasn’t said anything more about his feelings towards you - nor when he’ll be leaving.

It’s okay, you have time. You console yourself, as you lay in bed with him after he’d snuck into your room as per usual, pulling his warm presence closer to yours. But Satoru’s inevitable departure looms closer and closer like a dark cloud above your head.

It’s only two months after that night, when you’ve retreated from another engagement conversation you shut down, that Satoru brings it up. Hands intertwined and watching the sunset on top of your father’s barn, he utters in an uncharacteristically grave tone “I planned to leave next week, m’lady.”

Your heart pricks at his words. You knew this was coming.

Clenching your fists in self-assurance, your words tumble out.

“Let me come with you.”

“Let me stay with you.”

The nostalgic lullaby of the world around you is deafening as you and Satoru reel back in synchronized surprise.

“You- stay?”

“Wait- huh?”

Brow raised, you gesture at him to continue. “I just- I thought maybe I could stay here. Build a life with you, if you’d like, m’lady.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Satoru - who smiles brightest when talking of his tales of travel - was offering to settle down?

“W-what? Satoru, why would you? You love traveling.” you sputter out in disbelief. His smile grows, as does the warmth in his eyes. “I’ve found something I love a lot more.” he murmurs, with a playful bite to the crook of your neck.

You crack a smile at his sincerity, though you shake your head in disagreement. “You should be out there explorin’ the world, Satoru. And…I want to be right by your side.”

“I thought you loved this place?”

“I do.” you sigh. “But I feel so trapped.”

Resting your head on Satoru’s shoulders, you admit how dear Rustcliffe is to you - although oftentimes you try to deny it - and how you want to leave just as much.

The stars wink at you two mischievously by the time you’re done, a twinkle that matches the look in Satoru’s eyes as he announces, “So~ We run away together in a blaze of glory. End scene, credits roll, Gege win’s best actor.”

“Exactly. Although I prefer the term unannounced relocation.” you hum, relishing in his bark of laughter. “Now, c’mon, cowboy. We gotta get up early for that damn election rally tomorrow.”

Heading back home as inconspicuous as possible is always tedious. In addition to praying away your swollen lips, you head in innocently at different times.

Hurriedly greeting your housekeeper, you attempt to make a swift escape to your room. Only to be blocked by…Naoya?

“We meet again, sweetcheeks.” he smiles, stepping closer towards you. Determined to stand your ground, you stare menacingly up at him. “Hello, my apologies for being so unavailable to meet these days. Business, y’know.” your voice steady.

“Ah, yes. I know.” he hums dangerously. Looming closer to your face, you smell the tobacco on his breath as he mutters, “It’s no matter, your father and I have gone through with our conversations. You and I will announce our engagement tomorrow at your father’s rally. That is final.”

“I’ve talked with you about this, I’ve screamed at you about this. I will not marry you no matter what my father nor anyone else says.” you grit out through clenched teeth.

“Why? Got anyone in mind? Think it’ll be anyone else your father approves of?” he raises a brow, delicately raising the neckline of where your dress had dripped down - where Satoru had nipped before.

He knows.

“Not at all.” you smile sweetly. Not waiting for a response, you run upstairs. Seems like running away in a blaze of glory might have to hurry up.

Twisting and turning the entire night, you don’t get a wink of sleep, mind a whirlwind of how you’d get Satoru and run away before the announcement.

It was terrifying.

---

Parading around town in an itchy engagement dress under the boiling sun on your father’s collection of purebred Italian horses (+ Gege) wasn’t exactly how you wanted to spend an ideal morning. But it wasn’t the worst.

You snuck glances at Satoru riding in front of you, looking devastatingly handsome as ever.

Naoya had been terrifyingly quiet all morning. You could feel his penetrating stare on you, scrutinizing every movement and every conversation. He rides beside you - your soon-to-be husband.

As the procession ends at your father’s podium, where he proudly takes a stand. As he plows on with an inspirational speech that has the audience in cheers, your mind runs a mile a minute as you slip away from the stage. Even in your gauzy white dress, it’s easy to get lost in the animated crowds of Rustcliffe - which you and Satoru use to your advantage.

This was happening. You were going to finally leave.

Heart clenching at the sight of your jovial parents onstage, you take a long look before turning away. It’s okay, it’s alright. This is something you’ve been wanting for years.

Brain whirring at the letters you’d send them on your travels, you miss the harsh gaze following you.

“Satoru!” you gasp at the blur of white and black that embraces you as soon as you step foot into Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon. The bar, empty for the first time in years since your father’s last rally, was your hastily chosen place of refuge.

Nanami, who wasn’t initially too keen on being involved, had sympathized once he saw the look on your face. “Alright, but if anyone asks - you two were never here. Not too good for business, y’know.” he’d stated, permitting you two to do whatever you please.

Although, it probably was worth noting that he’d almost taken it back once Satoru tackled him into a hug with a joyful squeal of “Nanamiiiin~!”

“C’mon now. I’ve got our bags saddled on Gege. We’ll leave immediately.” Satoru voices, snapping you out of your reminiscing. Rushing to give Nanami a farewell hug, your heart lurches as he whispers “Goodbye. Promise you’ll write.”

This was really happening.

Nodding in promise, you finally turn to the open door and step into the dusty sunlight. Satoru leads you to where Gege is impatiently waiting for your quick getaway. You could almost laugh at the sheer exhilaration coursing through your veins.

You were going to get out.

You grip onto Satoru’s shoulder for support as he circles his arms around you to lift you onto the seat, slightly shaking at the intoxicating adrenaline.

You were finally going to be free.

“Leavin’ so soon, sweetcheeks?” a chilling voice slices through the air. One that you know way too well. Your heart stops, as does Satoru’s hands in midair - before he sets you down slowly.

Body moving against your will, you turn to the deceivingly sweet voice behind you. Naoya.

A cold sweat breaks out across Satoru’s forehead.

He stares down Naoya’s hand hovering over the holster at his hip. “I knew there was something off about you, barn boy. You think I’d be outmatched by someone like you?” he hisses, resentment poisoning every word.

Satoru does what he does arguably the best, “Oh c’mon asshat, don’t be so melodramatic. We’re just going on a little adventure.” he smirks.

“Don’t I know of these adventures.” Naoya spits out.

Agonizingly slow, Naoya draws his gun. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife as the three of you stand frozen, searing sun casting eerie shadows across the desolate road.

BANG!

Naoya’s first shot tears through the deafening silence. Narrowly missing the bullet, Gege whinnies in fear before running off to safety. Satoru skillfully maneuvers you two into the shadowy alleyway beside Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon.

In the blink of an eye, he presses you close to the dust-bitten wall as he pulls out his gun. “Stay here.” he gasps out.

With lightning speed, Satoru retaliates - firing back-to-back shots at Naoya with a speed and precision that has him scrambling for cover behind a barrel.

The gunfire echoes throughout the quiet town, these familiar streets becoming a battleground. Despite both parties shooting from their impromptu covers, neither are invincible.

A stray bullet harshly grazes his arm, blood painting the ground a deep crimson. Fuck, this really burned like a motherfucker. But he was still alive - he still had to protect you.

The standoff intensifies, stray bullets flying off in every direction. They splinter holes through the rustic shop banners. You could only be thankful that the town was at the rally, confident you’d never forgive yourself if anyone died on this road today.

Satoru fires off shots with uncanny accuracy, years of defending himself on the road coming in handy. Yet, he was losing blood. So much blood. He realizes with a jolt that his vision was slowly blurring.

Breaths labored and slumping forward against the wall, he aims one last shot at Naoya. Fuck. Shit. Dear lord, if you’re up there, please don’t let my love die here.

A finger pulls the trigger. The bullet flies through the air as if in slow-motion.

It hits metal.

Naoya’s gun flies through the air, clattering onto the sun-scorched ground as he is finally disarmed. The beginnings of a grin curl Satoru’s lips before he heaves out a heavy sigh. Eyes closing and body collapsing forward, the last thing ringing in his ears being your harrowed scream.

“No no no no. Satoru please.” sobs wreck your throat as your hands frantically check for Satoru’s pulse. In your panicked state of mind, you barely register the crunch of gravel nearing towards you two.

“Shit. The fuck is it that you even want?” that dreaded voice sounds ominously in your ears. “To travel? I can fuckin’ take you places.”

Sagging on the saloon wall for support, Naoya clutches his bleeding side as he observes the two of you. In an instant, you’re in front of Satoru’s body protectively, hand steady on his discarded gun pointed right at Naoya’s head.

“Leave, before I shoot your brains out..” you threaten, voice deceptively steady.

“I thought I could be the one to break you - the mayor’s wildchild daughter. But why the fuck do you put yourself through this?” he continues, voice strained with anger.

“Because he is the one I want. I refuse your proposal, and I am not sorry for it. Now leave.”

You were standing up now, the cool metal of the barrel pressed firmly to his forehead. Finger hovering above the trigger.

“I believe the lady said to leave.” Nanami’s voice startles you both. His normally stoic face was etched with anger.

Despite his injuries, Naoya manages to glare at Nanami. But, realizing the odds are against him, he backs away, but not before venomously promising “This ain’t over, sweetcheeks.”

He leaves a bloody trail as he limps out of sight.

“Told you this wasn’t good for business.” Nanami sighs at the chaos. With Nanami’s help, you carry Satoru inside - body moving on instinct as your mind races to process everything that happened.

The empty bar now serves as an improvised hospital. Laying Satoru down on a table that acts as a makeshift bed, propping his feet up in a desperate attempt to recirculate his blood. You desperately tear the intricate of your engagement dress into bandages, hurriedly wrapping it around his injured arm.

The atmosphere is taut, air once thick with the stench of alcohol now reeking of blood and the dusty antiseptic Nanami had brought to you from the very back of his shelves. The methodic ticking of the bar clock sounds like gunshots to your ears.

His reassuring presence is probably what keeps you sane as you stare unmovingly at your hands, stained a dark red from the blood seeping through Satoru’s clothes.

You must have been sitting there for hours. Maybe even days. Or it might have even been just a few minutes.

All you know is a flash of blue, and you’re surging forward, heart racing. “Satoru?! Satoru! Please say something.” you cry out, tears streaming down your face once more. Nanami quietly makes his exit to the back, leaving the two lovers to their privacy.

“Satoru.” you breathe out, relief flooding your body and a smile forcing its way onto your face as Satoru’s half-lidded eyes meet your worried ones.

“M’lady.” he whispers weakly. His uninjured arm shakily cups your cheek, and you lean into his warm touch. “I would never have forgiven myself if I left you alone, m’lady.” he rasps, eyes boring into yours. “Couldn’t have fought off the tumbleweeds yourself.”

You let out a watery laugh. There he is, the man you love.

“I love you, Satoru.” you speak in a hushed tone, as if anything louder will throw you back into your nightmare. His smile grows, blue summer eyes flooding with silent tears.

“I love you, too. So, so much. Wherever you go s’ where I belong, my love.” he utters words meant for you - and only you.

Your heart swells at the indescribable emotion on his face. “Then, rest well. We have to make our getaway in a blaze of glory, remember?”

It wasn’t a blaze of glory, more like a teary trail of apologies and thanks as you embrace Nanami farewell - for the second time today. He hugs Satoru too, but only begrudgingly after he bemoans about being on the brink of death any second now.

You step outside once more, hands shaky at what awaits you.

In the distance, you hear a frantic call of your name. You turn, only to have your parents barreling emotionally into you.

Word seems to have spread around town about what had happened, and your parents were first to come to you - your father running off midspeech.

Through your hurried stream of tears and recollections of what happened, you managed to bawl out “I-I’m so-”

Words which are quickly hushed by your equally emotional parents. “Please don’ apologize.” your mother soothes.

“If anything, I should. I’m so sorry for tryin’ to coop you up here, my dear. I was a scared, insolent man. S’hard to not see you as my little girl, I hope you can forgive me, my darling.” your father sighs shakily. He looks a lot older than you remember him.

Grabbing both your parents into a tight embrace, you whisper out the words “I love you, and I promise to write.”

With a final hug goodbye from your parents - to both you and Satoru, you take a seat in front of him on the now-calm Gege.

“Ready m’lady?” you send a teasing glance at Satoru, who positively swoons overdramatically.

“Oh yes, Mr. Brave n’ Handsome cowboy.” he responds in a theatrically high falsetto. “Travelin’ the world won’t be all sunshines and rainbows, y’know? If you want a way out now then jus’ say the word.” he warns in his normal voice.

“Trynna get rid of me already, cowboy?” you raise a brow playfully. He wraps his arms securely around your waist. “Just sayin’, wouldn’t want you to regret a single thing.” he murmurs softly.

“I won’t. As long as we win against those tumbleweeds, right?”

Huffing out a laugh, “Can’t promise ya that, my love. You’ll jus’ have to take a chance on me.”

The snap of reins. A last look at your waving parents, and your little town of Rustcliffe. You ride into the horizon with your white dress billowing behind you - on what you and Satoru would later consider blazing glory.

---

“Didya hear about the mayor’s daughter? Last I heard, she was kidnapped by a rogue cowboy a couple years back, snatched her straight off her feet on her wedding day!”

“Hogwash! I heard she went quite willingly - the boy was quite a looker, you see. Stabbed her fiancé in his sleep before riding off into the sunset!”

Nanami stifles a laugh at the scandalized gasps echoing around the table as the old drunkards run the gossip mill.

In a subtle motion, he discreetly tucks away a photograph, its back adorned with enthusiastic handwriting and a…hoofprint?

Taj Mahal sprawling in the backdrop, two identical heads of white hair grin mischievously in the photo.

Yet, yours takes center stage.

A/N. Did this in two days, anything is possible kids (I need to lie down). Reblogs are so so so appreciated.

Plagiarism not authorized.

9K notes · View notes

roanofarcc · 10 months ago

Text

IS IT CASUAL NOW?

pairing. scott miller (twisters) x fem!reader

summary. what happened between you and scott was supposed to be strictly casual, but when you feelings got too involved, you decided to call it quits. But storms and close calls have a way to bringing out true feelings.

warnings. allusions to smut but no actual smut, suggestive language, a curse or two, injuries, reader gets hurt, medical descriptions. scott is a little bit of an asshole & a sweetheart (he’s complicated, okay?). idk how I feel about this but I’ve been writing it for what felt like forever & I needed to post it so it stops haunting me.

word count. 3.9k || masterlist

Feelings were messy; they always got in the way of things. You weren’t sure when yours changed or why, but they surely were leading you quickly toward disaster. It was supposed to be a casual thing, a no-strings-attached kind of thing. ‘Sleeping with the enemy’ wasn’t supposed to be anything more than meaningless sex in shitty motels after both of your storm-chasing teams went to sleep. And maybe that was a bit dramatic, but the Wranglers had a flare for dramatics and a hatred for Storm Par. You were caught in the mess you made, unsure of what to do.

Scott was not the kind of man who wanted a serious relationship. He had a bad attitude and was one-track-minded. But he was just as lonely as you were, and that had quickly become a recipe for a delicious disaster. You two found yourself entangled in a strictly sex-only relationship, unknown to your two teams, enjoyed in the sanctity of midwestern motels. And for a while, the thrill of something so casual with no real stakes was exciting.

You’d only ever had real relationships, partners you took home to meet your parents, and who bought you dinner. Scott was new territory. He was an asshole, but there was a certain charm that kept you coming back when he called you beautiful while fumbling for the zipper of your jeans or pressing soft kisses to your neck.

Things between you two were good, but at some point, you couldn’t separate sex from feelings. It started to mean something to you. You tried to ignore it, burying it down deep in your gut, but that only worked for so long.

Scott never stayed long; he didn’t want anyone to catch him sneaking out of your room. But you hardly ever got the chance to catch your breath before he was searching for his clothes strewn across the floor. You rolled your lips into your mouth, chest still rising and falling heavily, and grabbed your t-shirt from where it had been tossed onto the nightstand.

“Are you guys following the storms up to Arkansas tomorrow?” he asked, falling back into himself the same way he always did. It was like the moment he stood from the bed, he snapped back into himself, stiff and work focused.

He was a hard man to understand. You supposed you weren’t really supposed to understand him, that was the nature of your relationship. The less you knew about someone, the easier it was to not care. But you cared too much about everything and everyone.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, toying the itchy motel blanket between your fingers. Anxiety twisted in your gut like a storm, bringing unruly waves that flooded your chest and made it tight. “Scott?”

He hummed in response, tugging on his shoes, not looking at you. It was a band-aid you needed to rip off, but you knew the nasty wound underneath it. You were scoffing it; you couldn’t keep it up.

“I, um, I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” You held your breath after the words fell from your lips. You didn’t want to say it; you didn’t want to mean it, but if you spent another evening with Scott you’d be done for. Feelings for him ached inside your chest, but you had to snuff them out before they grew any more intense and left you heartbroken in the wake. Being heartbroken for someone who didn’t care much for you beyond sleeping together sounded like a nightmare. You wanted to get ahead of it; no hard feelings.

He paused, standing up right as he put on his second shoe and furrowed his brows. “Do what?” he said, confused.

You winced. “This,” you said, pointing between the two of you. “Us.”

“Why?” Scott lingered by the door, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn’t a man of many words, curt and to the point you had learned.

You sighed, casting your gaze onto your lap. You felt small and a little embarrassed that you couldn’t separate sex from feelings. Scott seemed to do it so easily, but they were too intertwined for you. “What we have is good,” you started. “But I think I need something more…real, I guess.”

“This isn’t real enough for you?” he asked with a raise of his brows.

“You don’t want a relationship, right?”

“Right,” he answered, quickly.

“But I do.”

Scott was quiet for a moment, his face swarming with emotions you couldn’t pinpoint before they vanished and fell back into his usual, stoic expression. “With me?”

You smiled sadly, shaking your head even though it felt wrong, even though you were lying, a little. You knew the idea of you and Scott in a real relationship was purely fictional, completely intangible. You were probably the last person on Earth he’d want to date if he ever found himself able to look past his work. But you were soft-hearted and couldn’t help but think about it, even if it was ridiculous.

“If we keep this up, maybe,” you tried to joke but it fell flat. “But no, I just meant in general. I don’t think I’m really cut out for this.”

He pursed his lips, looking for a moment like he wanted to say something but decided against it and, instead, nodded slowly. “If that’s what you want.” Scott turned and grabbed the door handle, hesitating before he opened it. You tried to say goodbye, but he slipped out quickly, leaving the words lost in the quietness of your motel room.

You sighed, falling back against your pillow and bringing your hands up to your face in frustration. You knew you had done the right thing, and it would have hurt even worse if you waited, but it still sucked. You weren’t cut out for casual.

“Why are you so mopey?” Kate asked, sliding onto the bar stool beside you at the little dinner. You volunteered to grab everyone dinner while they worked on the truck before tomorrow’s storms. Kate followed you, picking up on the sulky attitude you had been trying to hide all day.

You sighed, tapping the countertop and avoiding her eyes. “It’s nothin’,” you said, trying to add a hint of cheeriness to your tone but it fell flat.

“If I tell you something, you promise not to get mad at me?” Confused, you glanced over at her. Kate was too sweet for anyone to be mad at her, you were sure of that. Besides, if anyone got mad at Kate, you were sure Tyler would wreak havoc. “Last night, I left my room to grab my phone charger from the truck and I kind of saw…” she looked over her shoulder at the diner’s company before lowering her voice into a whisper. “Scott leaving your room. That’s not why you’re mopey, is it?”

Your groan answered her. “No one was supposed to find out.”

She frowned. “I won’t tell, promise.”

“It doesn’t really matter anymore, I guess.” You shouldn’t have been sad; you were the one who called it off, but it left a little crater in your chest, a stupid feeling. Scott wasn’t someone you brought home to your parents or who would buy you flowers out of the blue. He was a one-night stand kind of guy; he made snarky comments and called you and your team hillbillies. You should have felt good about your decision, but you just couldn’t.

“We’re not seeing each other anymore,” you said.

“Why? Did he do something stupid? Because I’ll kick his ass.”

You smiled at her offer, tempted to take her up on it for your own sake, but it was unreasonable. “I called it off.”

“Oh,” she said, patting you gently on the shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know why I’m upset about it.” You wished you could just cross it out of your head, said and done, and wipe your hands clean of it. He was just a guy, but he was stuck on you. “We were just sleeping together; that was it. But…but I’m pathetic.”

Kate shook her head. “You’re not pathetic; don’t talk like that. Do you…like him?” She nearly winced when she said it, like it was a painful idea even for her to swallow. Scott wasn’t some supervillain, but he was a sore spot for her best friend, Javi. The two had started Storm Par together until their butting heads finally cracked. Javi left Storm Par and joined the Wranglers along with Kate, and Scott had to pivot to fill the gap Javi left.

“I was starting too, that’s why I called it off.”

Kate hummed in understanding just as the waitress placed your bags of food on the counter. She helped you gather the takeout with a smile and said, “Well, we’ll just have to find you someone new. Tyler wanted to take everyone out to this bar he and team always stop at during the season. Between all of us, we’ll find you someone even better than Mr. Storm Par.”

That didn’t sound so bad.

Oh, but it was. You’re not sure what happened, but it seemed like every decent, single person was taken or nowhere near Arkansas. Instead, the bar was filled with couples, oddballs, and creeps. You sipped on your drink and sank down in the booth, feeling defeated.

Kate joined you with a huff. “Sorry this turned out to be a total failure,” she said. “I don’t know what happened to all of the hot, decent, single people.” From across the booth, Tyler made a noise as he swallowed his beer and put his hands out in an ‘excuse me?’ manner. Kate smiled and shook her head. “For her,” she said, pointing to you.

Tyler nodded in understanding. “Ah, I didn’t know you were looking.”

You cleared your throat. “It’s, uh, a new endeavor.” Because you’d been so preoccupied with sleeping with Scott for the last couple of months, you hadn’t even thought about seeking someone else out, a real relationship. To your friends, you were simply content in your singleness, but that wasn’t the truth whatsoever.

“Well, I don’t think you’re gonna find anyone here,” Boone said, scanning the bar. The front door opened and in poured more people. His face twisted. “Unless you wanna shack up with one of Storm Par,” he laughed and his friends around the table echoed it, aside from Kate and yourself. Instead, your eyes widened as you turned your head to follow Boone’s gaze. Into the bar walked Storm Par, still dressed in their uniforms and looking out of place. Your staring caught Scott’s eye. He held your gaze for a moment, same stoic expression until he blinked and turned his attention onto the bar as they approached it.

On the other side of Kate, Javi hummed. “Hey, maybe they’re loosening up a bit. I don’t remember the last time Scott willing walked into a bar,” he said.

You laughed fakely along with your friends while Kate comfortingly squeezed your hand under the table.

You sat and drank with the Wranglers for a while, sneaking subtle glances at Scott every now and then, only to find his attention glued to the shelves of liquor behind the bar or one of his teammates. It wasn’t until the smell of smoke and the taste of beer became a little overwhelming did you slide out of the booth and excused yourself to grab some air outside.

The nighttime air filled your lungs the second you stepped outside. You leaned against the brick exterior of the bar, gazing out into the quiet street. People passed in and out of the bar, some laughing alongside their friends, others grumbling under their whiskey-tainted breath. You hardly paid them mind, until you felt someone’s eyes on you. For a moment, a slight worry plagued you, until you turned your head and found a familiar face approaching you.

“Hey,” you greeted Scott with a tight-lipped smile.

He looked a little uncomfortable, his hair disheveled and uniform wrinkled from the rowdy company of the bar. He let out a breath before he said, “Hi," and joined you against the building. He left a wide gap like you were a little more than strangers but less than anything else.

“I’m surprised to see you guys here.”

Scott sighed, somewhere between disgruntled and mocking amusement. “Wasn’t my idea. It’s ruining my reputation as a stick in the mud.”

You laughed despite yourself, and he met your gaze. “Oh, somebody’s got jokes now?”

He half smiled, fixing his gaze out on the street. “I’m full of surprises.” A quiet moment passed between you two. In the fresh spring air, there was still a tension that tugged on you. It felt odd, being so close to him without either hurling jabs back and forth in the company of your teammates or kissing him while your hands roamed.

Scott cleared his throat. “You’re sure about, uh, you know, ending this?” The way he asked sounded casual like you weren’t sharing something intimate.

You nodded until you realized he wasn’t looking at you. “Yeah,” you answered.

He peeled himself off of the brick wall and turned toward you. A rock settled in your gut; that was why he came outside, to make sure you didn’t have a change of heart. You didn’t know why, exactly, that irritated you. Maybe a stupidly hopeful part of you thought maybe he had changed his mind and was looking for something less casual and more real. But he wasn’t.

Then he just left, heading back inside and leaving you to blow air from your cheeks.

The storm had blown in with a vengeance. The town was supposed to be a pit stop on your team’s and other storm chasers' way toward bigger storms developing further east, but it became the hub of a sneaky but violent front. You stumbled out of the truck and into the powerful winds that nearly knocked you up against the door you struggled to shut.

The Wranglers looked for cover, helping some unprepared stragglers along into the nearby buildings. You made a move to follow them, but you hesitated when you saw one of Storm Par’s trucks parked alongside a sidewalk a little way down the road. One of the newest members rushed in your direction, towards the shelter, but the other person beside the truck didn’t. Scott stood there with his phone at his ear, struggling against the wind to be heard.

You sucked in a breath before turning around, bee-lining for the building you saw the rest of the Wrangler rush into. But once you reached the doors, pulling them open for a group of people to run inside, you felt the storm grow stronger, the rain running sideways in the wind that was determined to blow over everything in its path. You weren’t sure what exactly compelled you to spare another look over your shoulder at Scott’s truck, but there was a tug on your gut that you couldn’t ignore. And when you did, your heart dropped violently.

Scott was on the ground, pressed between the sidewalk and a mess of debris. Though it was difficult to see clearly through the rain, you were close enough to notice him struggle as the tornado loomed closer.

It was out of instinct that you abandoned the safety of the shelter and hurried across the road. Storm chasing had created a bad habit of putting others first in dangerous weather, a need to be helpful in the wake of a disaster.

You dodged flying debris as you crossed the distance and arrived to find Scott trying to shove a large metal ladder that must’ve come flying off the top of someone’s van. He looked a little dazed, rain in his eyes and hands cut up from where he probably tried to block the blow that came in too quickly.

You quickly grabbed a rung and started to pull before he groaned in pain. “Shit!” he hissed, blinking away the water from his eyes to clear up his vision enough to notice you. “W-What are you doing?” he yelled above the howl of the wind.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you said quickly, pulling harder despite your slippery hands. The ladder was heavy, and the conditions only made it ten times harder to get it to budge, but between the two of you, you managed to shove it off of Scott. He rolled onto his side, face contorted in pain as he placed a hand on his ribs where the ladder had been pressed against. “Come on, we’ve gotta go!” You pulled him up by the arm, ignoring his groans of protest.

The second he was standing upright, he stared at you with wide eyes and chest heaving. Your attention fell onto the sky and storm. Not thinking about much other than getting the hell out of the storm’s way, you grabbed Scott by the hand and pulled him toward the building. You moved quickly, despite whatever injuries he possessed, and were almost there when something hurled through the air. Before you could react, duck out of the way, or even attempt to avoid it, the object sliced across your forehead.

Pain bloomed across your skin, stopping you in your tracks. You brought your hand up to your forehead. For a moment, you thought it was just rain that coated your skin, but when you pulled your hand back, it was red-coated.

Scott tugged on your hand, his face twisted in a mix of emotions you were too dazed to read. He pulled you the rest of the way to the building. The world was a blur, a mix of colors that blood seeped into, staining your vision and making panic stretch uncomfortably inside your chest. People were gathered near the back wall, far from the windows. Scott pulled you down, his hand pressed firmly against your forehead.

Glass exploded as the windows shattered. Everyone gasped and pressed themselves impossibly close to the back wall. The pain in your head battled your increasing panic, making it hard to breathe.

Scott noticed, using his free hand to grip your shoulder. “It’s all right,” he said, voice unsteady. “You’re all right.” But you did feel like it. The world grew blurrier by the minute. You felt your eyes flutter against your will. The cut across your head must’ve been deep. Little black dots spotted your vision, despite your attempt to fight it. Your head dropped, falling into Scott. He kept his hand pressed against your cut and used his other to wrap around you, his own breath panicked as you fell unconscious.

The lights were too bright when you woke up, groggy and disoriented. With a disgruntled hum, you lulled your head side to side as your eyes fluttered open.

“Oh, thank goodness,” a voice filled your ears, light and relived. You blinked and Kate stood hovering over you with a small smile on her lips.

“You gave us a heart attack,” Tyler said.

“Sorry,” you managed to say, despite the dryness in your throat. “Everyone okay?”

Kate nodded, patting the top of your hand. “The team’s all right; you were the only one who took a hit.” You wanted to ask about Scott, but Kate must’ve read your mind because she added, “Storm Par was all right too.”

“Yeah, I think you short-circuited Mr. Robot. I’ve never seen Scott so bend out of shape after you passed out,” Tyler said, making your gut twist oddly. “He said you saved his ass.”

You tried to sit up, but pain rippled throughout your head, causing you to wince and sink back down. Kate shot Tyler a look as if to say ‘stop talking’ and he listened. “You got a couple of stitches and a concussion. But the doctor said you should be back to feeling like yourself in a week or so.”

With a sigh, you replied, “Great.”

A soft knock sounded from the door. Tyler opened it and looked surprised as it swung open to reveal Scott. He looked surprised himself like he wasn’t sure he should be there. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat and offered Tyler a look that was different than his usual scowl.

“What’d you want?” Tyler asked, but Kate quickly rushed to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him to stand down.

“Ty, we should go find the doctor.” She turned her head back to you for confirmation that you were okay with Scott visiting, and you nodded.

Tyler looked confused. “What-” Kate started to drag him out of the room, side-stepping Scott before she gently nudged him inside. She and Tyler disappeared into the hall, leaving you with Scott. He pulled his hand out from behind his back to reveal a small bouquet of flowers.

“Hi,” you greeted, offering him a small smile.

He returned it and moved to your bedside. “Hi,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit in the head,” you answered honestly. There was a light throbbing behind your eyes, dulled by the medication the doctor must’ve given you while you were out. “But it’s not too bad. How are you?”

“Besides a couple bruises, not in too bad of shape.” Scott pressed his lips together in a thin line, hesitating for a moment. “Mostly just been worried…about you.”

A warmness filled your chest, and you were too groggy to fight it off. He was worried about you, which you should have brushed off; you had passed out on him, so it wasn’t a crazy idea. But it felt big.

“I’m okay.” You didn’t know what else you were supposed to say.

He placed the bouquet of flowers on the little table beside the bed. “These are for you.”

“They’re pretty. Thank you.”

For a moment, there was a still tension that pulled between you, like it was waiting for someone to make a tug. You felt your better judgment slip, replaced by the urge to say something you’d probably regret, but Scott beat you to it.

“Uh, I-I know this is bad timing but if I don’t say something now, I probably won’t,” he started, much to your surprise and confusion. “I know you said you wanted to call this thing,” he pointed between the two of you. “Off. But I don’t.”

You sighed, “But-”

“I know,” he cut you off. “You want something real. A relationship. And I don’t. Or…I thought I didn’t. But the more I’ve been thinking about it, I like being with you. I don’t want to…not be with you. I want to be with you more, actually, not just us sleeping together. If you still want something real, then so do I.”

You blinked, stunned by his sudden confession. The heat spread from your chest, up your neck, and to your face. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, his lips quirking upwards in a smile that made the fluorescent lights look dim. “If I hadn’t screwed it up too much already.”

With a quick shake of your head, you returned his grin, and his body shifted in relief. “I like being with you too.”

“When you’re feeling better, let me take you on a real date, somewhere a hell of a lot nicer than those motels.” His hand ghosted over yours and you quickly intertwined your fingers with his before you pulled him down to your level.

“You are full of surprises, huh?” you joked, your cheeks hurting from smiling.

He shrugged. “I told ‘ya.”

#twisters #twisters 2024 #scott miller #scott miller x reader #scott miller x you #scott twisters #scott twisters x reader #scott twisters x you #twisters fanfic #tyler owens #kate carter #javi twisters #boone twisters

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ilovemarvel97 · 2 months ago

Text

Jogging Shorts

Elizabeth Olsen x G!P Reader

Summary: Lizzie comes back home to find her wife in a jogging shorts that shows too much.

Word Count: 6,570

Warnings: (18+), smut, reader has a penis, blowjob, fluff

Note: Minors do not interact!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

---

The front door clicked open as Lizzie stepped inside, sunglasses still perched on her nose and the faint smell of lavender clinging to her from the boutique brunch spot she’d just left. Her heels clicked softly against the hardwood as she kicked them off near the entry, humming to herself while undoing the buttons of her light jacket.

It had been a nice brunch—catching up with Aubrey over omelets and too many mimosas—but even as Lizzie laughed at her friend’s stories, her mind had slowly drifted home.

To her.

“Babe?” she called out, dropping her keys into the bowl on the hallway table.

She rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks.

There stood Y/N—her wife, her muse, her personal brand of temptation—wearing nothing but a clingy athletic tank and a pair of gray men’s jogging shorts that rode low on her hips. Her skin glistened with sweat, still flushed from her run, and her damp hair was pulled back in that messy ponytail Lizzie always found distractingly sexy.

Y/N didn’t notice her at first. She was too focused on downing a glass of cold water. The fabric of her shorts clung in just the right way—showcasing the shape of her thick thighs, the slight bounce of her body from exertion, and the very obvious outline pressing against the front of her shorts.

Lizzie’s throat went dry.

“Oh,” she breathed.

Y/N finally noticed her, lowering the glass and turning to face her with that boyish, slightly smug grin. “Hey, baby.”

Lizzie blinked. “You—you went running?”

Y/N gave a casual shrug, walking over to the fridge to grab the pitcher. “Just around the block a few times. Thought I’d get some cardio in before you got back.”

As she bent slightly to place the pitcher back in the fridge, Lizzie got another full view of that ridiculously perfect form—taut, sweaty, relaxed in all the best ways. Her gaze flicked to the waistband of the shorts again, and she felt a warmth start to bloom in her chest. And lower.

“You’re staring,” Y/N said, grinning as she shut the fridge.

Lizzie crossed her arms, but her cheeks were already flushed. “You can’t just… be walking around looking like that and expect me not to.”

“Like what?” Y/N asked innocently, walking closer.

“Those shorts” Lizzie points.

“What about them?” Y/N shrugs.

Lizzie scoffed, eyes trailing down. “You wear them like they’re painted on.”

Y/N chuckled and closed the distance between them until Lizzie had to tilt her head slightly to maintain eye contact. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Maybe because I walked into my kitchen and found my hot, sweaty, half-naked wife standing there like an ad for bad decisions.”

Y/N’s grin softened into something more tender, though her eyes still sparkled. “Good ones, actually. You married me.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes playfully, but her hands had already found their way to Y/N’s damp waist, fingers curling into the waistband of those teasing shorts. “Mm, I did. And I regret nothing.”

Y/N leaned in, nose brushing hers. “So what’re you gonna do about it?”

Lizzie hummed, fingers sliding just a little deeper beneath the waistband of Y/N’s shorts, her touch featherlight but enough to make her wife’s breath hitch. “I don’t know,” she murmured, voice thick with suggestion. “Maybe I should teach you a lesson for walking around like this… tempting me.”

Y/N’s smile widened, lips parting slightly as her gaze dropped to Lizzie’s mouth. “What kind of lesson are we talking about, Mrs. Y/F/N?”

Lizzie smirked at the title, loving how it still gave her a flutter even after all this time. “Something slow,” she said, inching closer so their bodies brushed. “Something very… drawn out. You know, to really make my point.”

Y/N chuckled, her hands finding Lizzie’s hips. “You really think you can handle taking your time when you’re this flustered?”

“I’m not flustered,” Lizzie said quickly, but the way her hands gripped Y/N’s sides betrayed her. “I’m just… motivated.”

Y/N tilted her head, eyes glinting with challenge. “Motivated, huh? That why your hands are shaking just a little?”

Lizzie scoffed and pulled away slightly, walking toward the counter as if to put some space between them—but the swing of her hips was anything but innocent. “Maybe I was going to go shower,” she said over her shoulder, her voice lilting and light. “But now? I might just sit on the couch and enjoy the view.”

She turned just in time to catch Y/N’s gaze drop—unapologetically—to the curve of her backside, still hugged tightly by the pale sundress she wore. Lizzie leaned against the kitchen island, her arms crossed, biting her lip to suppress a smile.

Y/N followed her without hesitation, hands casually holding her waist. “You wanna look?” she asked, stepping between Lizzie’s legs. “You can look, baby. But you’re not the only one who’s got views.”

“Oh, I’m very aware,” Lizzie said, her voice a whisper now as she traced a lazy circle along Y/N’s abs with a single finger. “That’s why I married you, rockstar.”

Y/N smirked. “Not for the voice? Or the charm?”

“Those helped,” Lizzie teased, sliding her hand down the front of Y/N’s tank slowly, until it rested just above the waistband again. “But mostly it was this… stupidly perfect body.”

Y/N leaned in, her nose brushing the side of Lizzie’s jaw, lips ghosting over her ear. “And now it’s all yours.”

Lizzie exhaled shakily, heat pooling low in her stomach. She wrapped her arms around Y/N’s neck, pulling her in just enough so that their lips nearly touched. “Say that again.”

Y/N kissed the corner of her mouth, slowly. “I’m all yours.”

Lizzie gave in, letting their lips finally connect in a heated, slow kiss that deepened with every second—lazy and lingering, the kind that made you forget anything else existed. Y/N’s hands roamed lower, gripping the backs of Lizzie’s thighs and lifting her just enough to sit her up on the kitchen island.

Their kiss broke only for a breath, foreheads pressed together.

“You still sweaty,” Lizzie whispered with a grin, fingers tugging at Y/N’s tank playfully.

“Guess we’ll have to get more sweaty,” Y/N murmured, lips ghosting over hers again.

Lizzie laughed softly. “God, I love you.”

Y/N smiled, kissing her again. “I love you too.”

Lizzie gasped softly as Y/N's hands slipped beneath the hem of her sundress, fingers trailing up her inner thighs. She shivered at the touch, her skin tingling with anticipation.

Y/N leaned in, her voice low and seductive. "You're not the only one who's eager to get started, huh?"

Lizzie's eyes fluttered shut as Y/N's lips found her neck, planting a trail of soft kisses along her collarbone. "I missed you," she whispered.

“You saw me this morning when you left” Y/N continue to kiss her skin.

"I know," Lizzie said, her fingers tangling in Y/N's damp hair. "But it feels like it's been forever since I've had you like this."

Y/N hummed in agreement, her lips moving lower, finding the spot on Lizzie's neck that always made her shiver. "even though you had me last night?"

"Yes," Lizzie replied, her voice a faint whisper as Y/N's hands glided under her sundress. "I can't get enough. Ever."

Y/N chuckled, the sound rumbling against Lizzie's skin. "And you think it's any different for me, baby?"

"I know it's not," Lizzie said, her breathing growing more labored as Y/N's fingers lightly grazed the edge of her underwear. "But you're the one teasing me right now."

“You started” Y/N whisper in Lizzie’s ear.

Lizzie tilted her head back, a moan slipping from her lips at the feel of Y/N's breath against her ear. "I didn't expect you to look so... good in those shorts," she admitted, her fingers trailing down Y/N's sides.

Y/N chuckled, nipping at Lizzie's earlobe. "Oh, you're one to talk. Wearing this little dress that barely covers a thing..."

"Hey, this is comfortable," Lizzie protested weakly, her body already arching into Y/N's touch.

Y/N hummed, her lips finding a sensitive spot just below Lizzie's jawline. "I'm not complaining. But you have to admit, you knew it would drive me wild."

Lizzie didn't bother denying it. "Maybe," she conceded, her fingers gripping Y/N's shoulders as her back arched off the counter. "But I didn't expect you to run around the neighborhood looking like sin incarnate."

"I was jogging," Y/N corrected, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of Lizzie's dress. "You're the one making it sound dirty."

Lizzie opened her mouth to retort, but all that came out was a soft gasp as Y/N's hand slid up her thigh, her touch warm and electrifying.

"You were showing off," Lizzie managed to say, her body trembling.

Y/N laughed, her hand moving higher, her thumb tracing the edge of Lizzie's underwear. "And you were looking, weren't you?"

“No…when I said you were showering off” Lizzie cups Y/N cock over her shorts “you were jogging and showing off what’s mine” Lizzie says.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her hand stilling on Lizzie's thigh. "And you're possessive today," she said, her voice low and strained.

Lizzie smirked, her fingers applying more pressure. "You love it," she said, leaning in to ghost her lips over Y/N's pulse point.

Y/N shivered, her eyes fluttering shut. "God, baby..." she murmured, her hand grasping Lizzie's waist.

"You like it when I claim what's mine, don't you?" Lizzie teased, her fingers teasing the strings of Y/N's shorts.

Y/N's breath hitched, her hands going down and gripping the edge of the counter. "You know I do," she replied, her voice rough. She tilted her head, capturing Lizzie's mouth in a heated, claiming kiss.

Lizzie melted into the kiss, her hands roaming freely over Y/N's body, tracing the dip of her lower back, the curve of her hip. She deepened the kiss, her tongue brushing against Y/N's, drawing a soft moan from her wife.

Y/N's hands found the hem of Lizzie's sundress, her fingers skimming along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. "You know," she murmured, biting back a gasp as Lizzie's teeth grazed her jawline, "the bed is just a few steps away."

Lizzie hummed, her lips nipping at Y/N's pulse point. "We could get there," she murmured, her hands sliding up Y/N's chest, "or you could just take me here." Lizzie start to stroke Y/N cock

Y/N's head fell back, a moan slipping from her lips. "Here, huh?" she managed to say, her voice thick with desire. "On the kitchen counter?"

Lizzie nodded, her lips brushing along Y/N's collarbone. "Right here," she said, her hand gripping Y/N's hip, pulling her even closer. "I want you now."

Y/N shivered, her body already burning with need. "You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?" she said, her hands trailing up Lizzie's arms, sliding under the straps of her sundress.

Lizzie's hands joined hers, helping Y/N push the sundress off her shoulders. "Only in the best way possible," she said, her voice a whisper as the dress pooled at her feet.

Y/N took a moment to appreciate the sight before her, her eyes roaming over Lizzie's body, clad only in matching lace underwear. "You're so beautiful," she said, her hands tracing the curve of Lizzie's waist, up to her ribs, before stopping just below her chest.

"You're not so bad yourself," Lizzie teased, her own gaze roaming over Y/N's body. "Especially in those shorts." She leaned in, her lips tracing the curve of Y/N's neck as her hands slid lower, slipping beneath the waistband of the shorts.

Y/N is already hard for her. Lizzie could feel it against her hand, the evidence of Y/N's arousal stirring her own desire. She pressed closer, her body flush against Y/N's, and nuzzled her face into Y/N's neck, her lips trailing up to her ear. "I can feel how much you want me," she murmured, her tongue darting out to tease Y/N's earlobe.

Y/N groaned, her hands gripping Lizzie's hips, pulling her even closer, until there was no space left between them. "You have no idea," she said, her voice rough with desire. "I've been wanting you since the moment you left this morning in that tiny dress.”

"That's a long time to wait for me," Lizzie said, her lips finding the underside of Y/N's jaw. She bit down lightly, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "But, then again, the longer you wait, the better the reward, right?"

Lizzie hops off the counter and kneel in front of Y/N tagging her shorts.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she watched Lizzie sink to her knees in front of her. She couldn't speak, the sight of her wife knelt before her sending a jolt of arousal straight to her cock. Her hands gripped the edge of the countertop, her knuckles turning white.

Lizzie smirked up at her, her eyes dark with desire. "You like that, huh?" she said, her hands slipping up Y/N's thighs, her fingers hooking into the waistband of her shorts. "When I'm on my knees for you?"

Y/N nodded, unable to form words, her body trembling under Lizzie's touch. "Yes," she managed to get out, her voice ragged. "God, yes."

"Good." Lizzie's voice was low and smooth, her gaze never leaving Y/N's as she started to tug at the shorts. "Because I love being down here for you."

Lizzie pull down Y/N shorts making her member spring out almost bumping her face.

Y/N's cock was hard, already leaking pre-cum from the tip. Lizzie's eyes widened at the sight, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. She looked up at Y/N, her gaze dark and hungry. "Oh, someone's eager," she said, her voice a teasing whisper.

"Eager's an understatement," Y/N managed to say, her fingers clenching tighter on the counter. "Especially when you look like that."

Lizzie chuckled, her hands gliding up Y/N’s thighs, stopping just short of touching her cock. "And how do I look, exactly?" she asked, tilting her head to the side, feigning innocence.

Y/N groaned, her cock twitching at the lack of touch. "You know how you look," she said, her voice strained. "You look like sin incarnate. Like you're trying to drive me insane right now."

Lizzie smirked. "Just trying to match your energy, love," she said, her breath ghosting over the head of Y/N's cock. "You were wearing that short showing off this, and expect me not do anything about it."

"You could have joined me on my run," Y/N pointed out, her words coming out in a strangled gasp as Lizzie's tongue darted out, lightly swiping over the tip of her cock.

“Fuck” Y/N groan.

Lizzie hummed, her lips curving up in a smirk. "You like it when I talk dirty to you, don't you?" she said, her hands still lightly stroking Y/N's thighs. "Or, I guess, it's more the actions, isn't it? Words are nice and all, but the real magic happens in the deed."

Y/N nodded, her eyes closing, her body tense as she waited for whatever Lizzie was going to do next. She was at her mercy, and she loved every second of it. "You can say that again," she said, her words more of a ragged gasp than actual speech.

"Hmm, looks like someone's getting impatient." Lizzie's teasing tone was enough to make Y/N's knees weak, and it took everything she had to stay standing. "You want me to keep going, don't you?"

"Please," Y/N begged, her body trembling with need. "I need you, baby. Please."

Lizzie relished the sound of the word 'please' slipping from Y/N's lips. She loved it when her wife admitted that she needed her. With a wicked gleam in her eye, she leaned in, her breath hot against Y/N's skin. "Beg me," she whispered, her lips just barely brushing against Y/N's hip.

"Please," Y/N repeated, her words shaky but earnest. "Please, touch me. I need you so badly, Lizzie. I need to feel your hands on me."

Lizzie smirked, satisfied with the desperation in Y/N's voice. "I like it when you beg," she murmured, her hands moving up, finally wrapping around Y/N's throbbing cock. "God, you're so hard for me. So ready."

“It’s your fault” Y/N thrust into Lizzie’s hand.

Lizzie laughed, her grip on Y/N's cock tightening. "Of course it is. My fault, my problem, and I take responsibility for it." Her hand began to move, stroking Y/N softly.

"You know I can't resist you," Y/N gasped. "Not when you look like that, not when you talk like that." Her hands clenched at her sides, resisting the urge to touch Lizzie's hair, her shoulders, the delicate arch of her back.

"And I can't resist you, either," Lizzie said, her gaze roaming over Y/N's face, taking in the flush of her cheeks, the way her eyes darkened with desire. "When you're all sweaty and needy and begging for me, how could I say no?"

Y/N goes to protest she’s not needy, but when she open her mouth Lizzie runs her tongue over her shaft.

The words died in Y/N's throat as Lizzie's tongue flicked over the tip of her cock, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. She had no room to protest, no power to argue, not with the overwhelming need and desire coursing through her body. "You're going to make me lose it," she managed to choke out, her words breaking off as another moan escaped her lips.

Lizzie chuckled, her breath hot against Y/N's sensitive flesh. "That's the point, baby. I'm going to take my time with you. I'm going to drag out every single one of those beautiful noises I can make you make."

Y/N could just take her way, but she was enjoying this Lizzie.

Lizzie was in control, and Y/N was all too happy to submit. She loved seeing this side of her wife, the side that was confident and commanding, driving her wild with desire. Each touch, each movement, was calculated and deliberate, designed to draw out just the right response.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" Lizzie said, her lips brushing against the underside of Y/N's cock. "You're so perfect like this, all needy and eager, begging for me to touch you, to make you mine."

“I love when you take my cock like that” Y/N whisper.

Lizzie smiled up at Y/N, her eyes flickering with a mix of lust and playfulness. "I know you do," she said, her voice a low, seductive purr. "I know you love it when I take control and show you just how badly I want you."

And with that, Lizzie wrapped her lips around Y/N's cock, taking her deep into her mouth. She was hot and wet and eager, swirling her tongue around the sensitive flesh. It was as if she was made for this, made to bring Y/N to the very edge of pleasure and then hold her there

"Fuck," Y/N moaned, her hands finding their way into Lizzie's hair, "You feel so good, baby. So god damn good.”

Lizzie hummed in response, her eyes never leaving Y/N's face. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she loved every second of it. She knew the power she held over Y/N, and she relished in it. It was a beautiful dance they'd perfected over the years, each touch and kiss fueled by a depth of passion and love that only comes from true intimacy.

Y/N's body trembled, her back arching, her fingers clutching at Lizzie's hair. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop," she gasped, her words a ragged mix of pleading and command.

Lizzie had no intention of stopping. She loved seeing Y/N like this, undone and desperate for more. She teased and taunted her, her mouth and hands moving in perfect tandem, bringing Y/N closer and closer to the edge. Each touch was calculated, a symphony of pleasure that threatened to send her over the brink.

"I'm close," Y/N gasped, her body taut, coiled like a spring ready to snap. "Baby, I'm so close."

With that lizzie starts to bob her head.

Lizzie smiled around Y/N's cock, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She knew Y/N was close, and she was determined to take her there. She increased the suction, her lips and tongue milking Y/N's cock with an expert touch. She could feel her own arousal growing, the taste and feel of Y/N's flesh in her mouth driving her wild. She could sense the tension in Y/N's body, the way she was trembling under her touch. She knew she had her right where she wanted her, and she was ready to take her over the edge.

Lizzie take almost all Y/N length into her mouth. Tears pooling in the corners of her eyes as she looks up at her wife. And that was the last straw for Y/N.

In a guttural moan. Her body convulsed, her hips bucking a little as she came, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her like a tsunami. Her fingers found Lizzie's head, holding her in place a little. But when it was over, she pulls her hips back, pulling her length out of Lizzie’s mouth.

Lizzie's lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed. She had a satisfied smirk on her face, as she looked up at Y/N.

"That was... intense," Y/N gasped, her limbs feeling like jelly.

Y/N see Lizzie swallowing her load. It was an incredibly erotic sight, and Y/N felt her arousal building once more. Lizzie could see the look in Y/N's eyes, and she knew exactly what it meant.

"Already getting worked up again, darling?" she teased, pushing herself up to her feet.

Y/N pulls her by the hips and crashed their lips. Their bodies pressed against each other, mouths locked in a frantic, desperate kiss. It was pure heat and hunger, fueled by a desperate need to be closer, to feel more, to take all they could from each other.

Y/N lift her up by her thighs and place her back on the counter kissing her desperately.

Lizzie clung to Y/N, her arms wrapping around her neck, her legs wrapping around Y/N. She kissed back with equal fervor, her lips moving urgently against Y/N's, their lips slick and hot. She could feel the heat radiating from Y/N, the need and desire rolling off her in waves.

Lizzie only notice her bra was gone when she feels Y/N’s hand on her breasts.

The realization hit her, she gasped, her body arching into Y/N's touch. She had been so consumed by the kiss, so focused on the feeling of Y/N's lips against her own, that she hadn't even noticed the moment her bra had been removed. She broke the kiss, looking up at Y/N with a mix of surprise and arousal.

“When did you do that?” she asked, her words coming out in a ragged gasp. Her fingers reached for the hem of Y/N's shirt, tugging at it impatiently.

"I have my ways," Y/N murmured, her eyes dark with desire. She helped Lizzie pull the shirt over her head, revealing her bra. "I'm full of surprises, aren't I?"

Lizzie's gaze wandered over Y/N's bare chest, taking in every inch of exposed skin. Her fingers traced the edge of Y/N's bra, her touch almost reverent. "You always find a way to leave me wanting more," she said, her words soft and tinged with need.

Lizzie tilted her head back, giving Y/N better access to her neck. Her fingers combed through Y/N's hair, her touch both possessive and gentle. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?" she murmured, her words breathy with desire.

"We're a match made in heaven," Y/N agreed, her lips trailing down Lizzie's neck, nipping and kissing her sensitive skin. Her hands roamed over Lizzie's body, exploring every curve and contour, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Y/N lips went down Lizzie’s body, kissing and nipping her breasts.

Lizzie gasped, her body arching into Y/N's touch. Her fingers tightened in Y/N's hair, holding her close, not wanting her to pull away. "Please, don't stop," she murmured, her voice tinged with desperation.

Y/N had no intention of stopping. She continued her journey down, her lips and tongue tasting every inch of Lizzie's skin, worshipping her body with every touch. She could feel the heat radiating from Lizzie, the way she trembled under her hands, and it only fueled her desire.

Lizzie's gasped, her body quivering with each touch. "I need you," she whimpered, her fingers digging into Y/N's shoulders. "Please, don't tease me."

“Tell me what you need” Y/N whisper in her ear.

Lizzie's body shivered as Y/N's words washed over her, her voice a hot, ragged whisper in her ear. She could feel the heat pooling low in her belly, the ache between her legs growing stronger with every moment. "I need you," she whispered back, her words a breathy, desperate plea. "I need you inside me. Now."

“Good girl” Y/N whisper in her ear before she push down her own shorts and boxers to the middle of her thighs and push Lizzie’s underwear to the side.

Lizzie groaned, her mind going blank as she felt Y/N's fingers finding her. The sensations were overwhelming, the heat and wetness and the need to be filled. She reached for Y/N, her hands grabbing at her shoulders, pulling her close. "Please, baby. I need you. I need you now."

“So wet” Y/N whisper as she scoop Lizzie’s juice to spread over her cock.

Lizzie gasped at the touch, her body shaking with need. "God, yes," she whispered, her hands clutching at Y/N's back. "I want you so bad."

“Shhhh I’ve got you baby. I’ve got you” Y/N says as she rub her tip against Lizzie’s core.

Lizzie's breath hitches at the contact, her body arching slightly, trying to press harder against Y/N. "Please. Don't tease me like that," she pleaded, her voice a ragged whisper. "I need you inside me."

“I know baby. I know” Y/N push in slowly.

Lizzie gasped, her body arching upward as she felt Y/N slowly pushing into her. The sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure left her mind reeling. "Yes," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat. "Just like that."

Y/N began to move, slow at first, relishing in the feeling of being inside Lizzie. It was like coming home, a sense of completion that went beyond physical pleasure. Lizzie's legs wrapped around her waist, holding her tight, and she buried her face in the crook of Lizzie's neck, peppering kisses on her skin.

“You feel so good my love” Y/N murmur against her neck.

Lizzie nodded, her words lost in a sea of sensations. She held onto Y/N tightly, her arms wrapped around her shoulders, her legs around her waist, her fingers tracing patterns on the skin of her back. "So do you," she murmured against Y/N's ear, her voice ragged with pleasure. "You always do."

Y/N start to speed up. Her arms were wrapped around Lizzie’s waist, holding her against herself.

Lizzie's breath came in short, ragged gasps as Y/N picked up the pace. She could feel herself getting close, her body taut and trembling beneath Y/N's touch. Her fingers gripped Y/N's shoulders, her nails digging into the skin, her chest heaving with every breath. "Don't stop," she pleaded, her words a ragged whisper. "Please, don't stop."

“Is your butt ok?” Y/N ask since Lizzie’s on the counter.

Lizzie's response was more of a gasp than a word. "Yes," she managed to say, her voice breathless. "I'm fine." Except she was more than fine, she was on the edge of pure ecstasy, every nerve in her body alive with pleasure.

Y/N could tell from the way Lizzie's body reacted that she was close, her body trembling beneath her touch. She shifted slightly, adjusting her angle to hit that sweet spot that made Lizzie gasp.

"Ah!" Lizzie gasped, her body arching, her fingers clawing at Y/N's back. "Just like that. Don't stop. Please." Her words were a desperate plea, her voice ragged with pleasure.

"Never," Y/N murmured against her neck, her lips brushing over her skin. "I'll never stop." She moved faster, harder, losing herself in the moment, driven by the sounds of Lizzie's pleasure and the feel of her body responding to her touch. She could feel the tension building in Lizzie, the way her body coiled tighter and tighter.

Lizzie's grip on Y/N's shoulders was like a vice, her nails digging into the skin. Her body was taut, on the edge of release. She was close, so close, but Y/N knew how to keep her just on the edge, driving her slowly insane with desire. "Please," Lizzie pleaded, her voice ragged. "Please, let me come."

“Since you asked so nicely, I’ll let you come” Y/S kissed her cheek.

Lizzie's body shuddered at the words, her head falling back, exposing her neck to Y/N's lips. She was teetering on the edge, so close that it almost hurt. But she waited, her body tense, her breath hitching in anticipation, waiting for the final push.

Y/N kiss her deeply as she speed up more, hitting deep inside Lizzie.

The kiss was a clash of teeth and tongues, a desperate need to be even closer, to feel every inch of each other. Lizzie gasped into Y/N's mouth, her body trembling with pleasure. She was so close, so close. "Please," she pleaded, her voice ragged. "I need to come. I need to come so bad."

“You can come baby.”

"Oh god," Lizzie gasped, her body arching, every muscle coiled tight with pleasure. "Please, please, please." She was so close, so incredibly close to the edge. She held onto Y/N tightly, her fingers digging into her skin, trying to anchor herself to something, anything, to keep herself from flying apart.

"Let go, baby," Y/N murmured against her ear, her words like a spell, casting a net of pleasure over her, pulling her closer to the brink. "Come for me. Let me see you come undone."

That was all she needed. Lizzie's body shook, her legs wrapping tightly around Y/N, her body trembling as she finally let go. Her orgasm washed over her like a wave, drowning out everything but the sensations coursing through her body. She held onto Y/N tightly, riding out the waves of pleasure, her whole world narrowing down to the feel of Y/N in her arms.

Y/N slow down for her to ride out her high.

Lizzie's body quivered, her whole being thrumming with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She held onto Y/N, her fingers digging into her skin as she rode it out. Y/N held her through it, slowing down just enough to keep her pleasure going, her hands roaming over Lizzie's skin, mapping out every inch of her with feather-light touches.

Lizzie was boneless, her body limp, her mind utterly blissed out. She could barely form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. But the warmth and safety of Y/N's arms kept her grounded, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat anchoring her to the present moment.

“Hold tight baby” Y/N whisper in her ear.

Lizzie nodded, her body still humming with the afterglow. She wrapped her arms around Y/N's neck, burrowing her face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin. She didn't want to move, didn't want to disrupt the moment. She just wanted to stay there, held tightly in Y/N's arms, feeling loved and safe.

Without pulling out Y/N lift Lizzie from the kitchen counter and start to walk up to their bedroom.

Lizzie clung to Y/N, her body still boneless and sated. She buried her face in Y/N's shoulder, sighing contentedly as Y/N carried her up the stairs. She could feel Y/N's steady heartbeat, the strength in her arms, and the sense of safety and comfort that always came with being held by her.

As Y/N walk, her cock moves slightly inside Lizzie.

Each step was a gentle, sensual brush of movement, and Lizzie's body responded, a gasp slipping from her lips. Every touch sent a jolt of pleasure through her, the sensation just enough to keep her on the edge of arousal. She could feel Y/N's body shifting with each step, the movement subtle and intimate, adding to the building desire.

Y/N enter their bedroom and place Lizzie down on their bed.

Lizzie's body sunk into the mattress, her limbs splayed out. She looked up at Y/N, her eyes dark with desire. Her gaze traced over Y/N's form, taking in every inch of her. She reached up, her hands grasping at Y/N's arms. "Come here," she murmured, her voice low and breathy.

Y/N moved onto the bed, crawling over Lizzie, her body hovering above her. She braced herself on her arms, her gaze roaming over Lizzie's face, taking in the flush of her cheeks, the way her eyes were dark and blown with desire. She leaned down, her lips brushing over Lizzie's jaw, planting kisses along her skin, down her neck, to the hollow of her throat.

“Can you do one more for me my love? I didn’t come yet” Y/N ask as she rubs her cock against Lizzie’s core.

Lizzie's breath hitched, her body arching into Y/N's touch. "Yes," she gasped, her words barely more than a murmur. "Yes, please." She was already on edge again, her body thrumming with need. She reached up, her hands grasping at Y/N's shoulders, pulling her closer. "I need you," she whispered, her voice ragged with desire.

Y/N spread her legs more and slide inside her.

Lizzie's body trembled in response, her hips rising to meet Y/N's motion. She let out a soft moan, her head falling back onto the pillow. "Oh god," she gasped, her voice ragged. "You feel so good." She wrapped her legs around Y/N's waist, her fingers digging into her back, pulling her closer, wanting to feel every inch of her.

Y/N moved slowly, her movements deep and deliberate. She pressed her face into Lizzie's neck, her breath hot against her skin. Her hands roamed over Lizzie's body, touching her everywhere. Lizzie's hands were everywhere, touching and scratching and grasping at Y/N's skin as if she couldn't get enough of her. The need was there, the desperation that only comes of knowing someone inside and out. Every touch was a claim, a silent reminder that they were each other's.

Lizzie's body was taut, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She clung to Y/N, her fingers digging into her back. "Please," she gasped, her voice ragged. "I need more, baby. I need you." She could feel Y/N's body moving against hers, the rhythm slow and deliberate, driving her insane with need. She wanted more, needed more, needed to be as close to Y/N as possible, to feel their bodies intertwined, to lose herself in the sensations that only Y/N could bring.

Y/N speeds up, starting a rough pace as she seeks her release. She kiss Lizzie’s neck up to her ear.

Each kiss, each bite, each word whispered against her skin, it all left Lizzie unraveling, completely at Y/N's mercy. Her hands gripped Y/N's shoulders, holding on for dear life, as her body trembled. "Yes, yes," she whispered, her body arching into Y/N's touch, her own need growing with every moment that passed.

Y/N keep the pace and she hiss when Lizzie start to scratch her back but she doesn’t mind.

Lizzie's nails dug into Y/N's skin, leaving marks that would be there for days, a reminder of this moment. But Y/N didn't mind. In fact, she loved it, loved the way Lizzie's body responded to her touch, the way she writhed beneath her, completely undone. It was a beautiful sight, one that she would never tire of.

She could feel Lizzie's body shaking beneath her, the sounds that fell from her mouth growing more and more desperate. Y/N knew she was close, could feel the tension in her body coiled tight like a spring. She nipped and kissed at Lizzie's neck, her teeth grazing her skin, leaving marks that would purple by morning.

“I’m gonna come my love” Y/N whisper in her ear.

The words sent a shiver down Lizzie's spine, her body arching off the bed as the tension in her coiled tighter, closer to the edge. "Yes, yes, please," she gasped, her voice ragged and raw. "Don’t stop."

Y/N didn’t have any plans to stop, not when she had Lizzie like this. She kept her pace up, driving her higher and higher, until Lizzie was teetering on the very edge, hanging by a thread.

Y/N keep the fast pace as she moans holding her release so Lizzie can reach hers.

Lizzie's body was a trembling mess beneath Y/N. Every muscle was taut, every nerve ending on fire. She could feel the tension building, coiling itself tight. Each moment was agony, sweet and sharp all at once. She was so close, so incredibly close, teetering right on the edge, but not quite there yet.

“Cum love. Cum with me” Y/N groan.

Lizzie's body was taut, the words sending her spiraling over the edge. Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, a burst of pleasure that washed over her in waves. All she could do was hold on, clinging to Y/N like a lifeline as her body trembled, as the sounds that left her mouth turned incoherent. And then, as suddenly as it had come, the orgasm receded, leaving her boneless and satisfied, panting against Y/N's shoulder.

Y/N release inside her with a moan agains her ear.

Lizzie could feel Y/N's release, her body shuddering with the aftermath of her own orgasm. She held onto her tightly, her hands roaming over her back, her touch gentle and soft. She could feel the heat radiating off their bodies, the sweat on their skin, the way they were both shaking with the exertion and the aftermath. "God, I love you," she whispered, her voice ragged and hoarse.

“Fuck…I love you more” Y/N says breathless.

Lizzie smiled, her gaze locking with Y/N's. "Impossible," she whispered, her fingers tracing a path down Y/N's back. "I love you more."

Y/N smiles sweetly before kissing her softly.

Y/N melted into the kiss, her lips moving slowly, reverently against Lizzie's—no longer driven by lust, but by the kind of love that softened the world around them. She pulled back just enough to press her forehead to Lizzie’s, their breaths still mingling, both of them trying to calm the rapid thud of their hearts.

“I guess I’m not allowed to wear this shorts outside anymore?” Y/N smirk.

Lizzie grinned, still breathless, her fingers lazily tracing patterns along Y/N’s spine. “Allowed? Oh, no. You can wear them.”

Y/N quirked a brow. “Yeah?”

Lizzie leaned in, lips brushing against her jaw. “Just know that if you do… I’m following you. And anyone who looks for too long is getting hexed.”

Y/N laughed, low and husky. “Hexed? We’re bringing out the Scarlet Witch now?”

“I’m married,” Lizzie said with mock-seriousness, eyes glittering with mischief. “Which means I’m legally obligated to defend what’s mine. Even if that means mild public violence.”

Y/N hummed, nuzzling into her neck. “Kinky.”

Lizzie swatted her lightly, giggling. “Don’t tempt me. You’re already pushing your luck in those damn shorts.”

Y/N grinned, letting her hands settle on Lizzie’s waist as she pressed one last kiss to her lips—slow and sweet. “Fine. No more wearing them outside.”

Lizzie smirked. “Only for me.”

Y/N brushed their noses together. “Always, baby.”

---

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