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captain-aralias · 2 years

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Restoration Ecology: Epilogue

Simon has never forgiven Baz for ruining his life at the start of eighth year. He’d hoped never to see Baz again. Ever. But when Baz applies for a position on the Coven, it’s impossible not to hire him. So – now, they’re working together. And as much as Simon wants to continue hating Baz, the dead spots between them are starting to heal …

Chapter 9 of 9; 51,076w; Explicit, Complete

Read the Epilogue on AO3

Or start from the beginning

Art:

Chapter 4 by @shemakesmeforget

Chapter 5 by @cutestkilla

Chapter 6 also by cutestkilla

Chapters 1-7 by @letraspal

some bonus material below the cut 👇

Times change

i started writing Restoration Ecology before AWTWB and before I wrote Classroom Politics! i didn’t get very far.... i don’t have the original draft, just the bit where i tried to re-write it but there was too much that wasn’t working - mitali was now complaining about shepard OR (in one draft) potentially being weird about agatha being gay (”Not everyone managed to get their daughters married off at Watford” - you can see it the first time i shared some WIP back in november 2021, but now agatha is queer it’s super awkward!) . i hated it, but still wanted to keep mitali being rude about simon.

it’s a large part of why i scrapped this introductory section, along with the fear that i was spending far too long in the pre-baz narrative. i wanted him in the story as soon as possible.

but - this is how it originally started:

“All right,” Welby says. “Well, that only leaves one final item of business, then. Which is that, as some of you may know, Anika Shawcross has tended her resignation to the Coven.”

Everyone around me groans. So do I. It’s not that I particularly liked Anika. (She was all right. Big fan of dogs.) But we all know what’s coming next.

Interviews.

I hate interviews. I hate having to think of questions. It’s awful, even if the person’s good. And if they’re bad, it’s worse. I’m not good at pretending to be interested. Or not yelling at someone if they say something racist. The really bad ones won’t let it go, either – they’ll tell me why I made the wrong decision every time I see them.

I managed to get out of interviewing new Coven members once – just after I joined – but since then I’ve been on every panel. This is because part of interviews, Welby says, is selling yourself to the applicant as an attractive place to work. And apparently a lot of people really want to work with me.

“I’m not even the Chosen One anymore,” I protested the first time I heard this. “I’m not even magic.”

“Because you saved the World of Mages,” Welby said reasonably. “Multiple times.”

“Don’t oversell him,” Mitali said. (I’d made the mistake of complaining in front of both of them.) “It’s because you’re single and almost handsome, Simon. And not everyone is happy to marry their daughters off to actual Normals.”

Penelope says her mum is coming round to the idea of Shepard – existing. Being engaged to her daughter. But I wouldn’t say she likes him. Or me, really.

Welby and I changed the subject pretty quickly.

“We’ll be opening applications later this week,” he says now. “If you know someone who we ought to consider, please tell them to get in touch. Meeting adjourned.”

I usually hang around a bit after meetings, but

Martin Bunce and the dead spots

notably, also, the person resigning the coven in the above excerpt is NOT martin. i wrote most of chapter 1 without making that call, which now seems ridiculous. i had this useful conversation with @otherworldsivelivedin back in september -

aralias: scenes i've got planned so far go something like (everything is from simon's POV - probably) : - simon interviews baz, basically written. he has to hire him, baz is too good, curses, also hot - simon knows he likes men now, this sucks - simon makes baz come to the pub with him, he asks him a bunch of extra questions even though he's already got a job, backstory! (haven't QUITE worked out what the AU is, but i think it's something like... nastasha came to see baz at pitch manor rater than telling simon, so baz called for the mage to be arrested; the mage knew about it, panicked and tried to get simon's power - so the normal humdrum stuff happened, but not at christmas. simon and baz never had a truce, and although simon acknowledges that baz to some extent saved his life and was right, he blames him for everything that happened, and they've barely spoken for 10 years) - during the pub visit baz says something like, 'if i'd known this was an interrogation rather than a date, i'd have worn a different shirt' - simon recovers badly, baz asks wheher it is a date - they end up having sex in a toilet - absolutely nothing is resolved. this is what makes it different from classroom politics - theeeeen.... things get a bit hazier for me, but basically simon and baz are now sort of partners on the coven, and there are various set pieces that are supposed to show simon the kinds of things that he learned during the watford truce, but it's also muddled by the fact that simon thinks they're having hate sex - this is where i need the brainstorming   aralias:  the ideas i have are: - simon's main job on he coven is definitely something about filling deadspots back in - something to do with what happened to him with smith, to some extent they just need to find them - and go there... dont know much more about this. the smith smith-richards plot definitely happened already - maybe a fake chosen one thing? - nobody's written it yet, so i'm definitely having the thing i wrote into carryonprompts where they have to go undercover in a vampire den and simon has to pretend to be baz's vampire thrall/pet - some bitey stuff, for verisimilitude - something about simon's relevatives on the mage's side - he already knows them, he and baz stay over. not sure what's going on here   aralias: all of these are super drawn from canon - so i think maybe i need some that i just made up........   aralias:  i probably want them in that order, as well - i can see an escalating path of 'how baz reacts/what simon thinks about him' through those things   aralias:  might need a few more smaller things at the beginning where simon doens't like or trust him .....   aralias: but i also dont want it to go on too long........   otherworldsivelivedin: Yes let's have this meeting... in a pub... nothing to do with you being hot in the slightest Baz swear this isn't a date.

OOOHHH, I quite like the way this AU has been twisted on it's head. So you still get everything we needed but the truce. And Simon still gets to feel conflicted over the Mage and Baz's hand in it all.

AHAHAHA I WAS RIGHT ITS A DATE. vindication. LOVE THIS. SO much room for tension I CAN TASTE IT NOW. Plus then the following angst of.... oh fuck, we just fucked. But like. Lets not discuss that and pretend life is normal. God I want to beta so bad.

So re. being on the coven together. Is it like... linear? Or are the previous bulletpoints flashbacks that we find out in stages/all at once (like a prologue etc.) and it opens with them already on the coven?

YES TO THRALL/PET.   otherworldsivelivedin: I think, when they first start working together, there's a lot of room for Simon being mistrustful of whatever Baz says/any and all of his opinions. And bickering there. Like Simon having to work through his internalised defence against Baz, so that's fantastic. And the tension and bickering easily leads into sex and can be something that keeps Simon thinking it's just hate sex ... if it's always happening after moments like these, at first otherworldsivelivedin: it's interesting you're keeping the smith richards thing alive and still happening. If you include that, the fallout will likely need to be a large plot point    otherworldsivelivedin:  so the filling in of holes... is tied to people getting their magic back from Smith Richards?   otherworldsivelivedin: hmm  otherworldsivelivedin:  so the natural progression is... they work out how to fill the holes, and Simon's magic also comes back?   otherworldsivelivedin:  re. the mage relatives, you could easily have them forced to visit Wales because there's a huge deadspot there. And could tie that into the vampire den, if they go to one in Wales--different then, slightly, from canon. Need to find a reason for them to go... maybe there's another vampire mage like Baz, and he has info  otherworldsivelivedin: omg hilarious maybe one of Simon's magical relatives got turned into a vampire mage all this time    otherworldsivelivedin: sorry I'm getting carried away   otherworldsivelivedin: that's a much longer fic   otherworldsivelivedin: also, what's Baz's job in all this? Like why is he needed specifically? I see you said that's basically wrriten. Has he specialised in something relevant to the holes? or is Simon in need of a vampire liaison    aralias: this is a VERY good point - i think the coven know he's a vampire, maybe because it came out as part of the thing where baz accused the mage. but i could make it more specific. and/or have martin retire, rather than baz. in my mind - they're sort of like... i guess what the mage's men should have been. like - they sort out problems, and also vote on laws. and we need someone to help sort out problems - and baz .... hasn't relaly done that properly, but has a good theoretical background, whereas simon has a good background in sorting things out   aralias:  in terms of timeline - them being on the coven will (i think) be straightofrward A-B narrative, but we need to give some information about what happened in the past, why they aren't together, why simon still hates him   aralias: interesting that you think the smith richards thing needs to be big - i was thinking... throaway might need to think about that more. and YEAH ... the wales deadspot thing works well. maybe i just need to focus it around deadspots, and that's what simon and baz do   otherworldsivelivedin: ah yes, sorry in my head I thought the deadspot thing was the plotline you were basing the fic on, and you were trying to figure out how Smith Richards would fit into that! ...hence the filling the deadspots/getting their magic back angle when I said about it being a big plot point. but also. Could not be that at all aralias: I think it’s relevant because it activated simons nothing ness/magic repelling thing It otherwise it’s not relevant I also think…. He’s had his wings taken off

otherworldsivelivedin: ooooh

aralias: Which id never write usually but he didn’t have baz so no reason to keep them - and it makes all the car rides easier 😂

otherworldsivelivedin: completely valid tbh it's so much easier not having to write them does he still have his tail?

aralias: Nope

otherworldsivelivedin: he's going Full Normal™️

aralias: Well - still magic repelling! But yeah - something like that I think I maybe was thinking the dead spots thing primarily then awtwb and i wanted to write this vampire thing 🤣 and so I keep adapting what it is/I started to write it like 9 months ago But it works much better as you suggest

otherworldsivelivedin: it's interesting that he's on the coven but didn't choose to keep his wings when they could have helped him in like detective situations might need to explain that away

aralias: I think he got them off before coven

otherworldsivelivedin: makes sense makes sense

otherworldsivelivedin: I like that there's pre-laid growth already in the history before the fic. He wanted to get rid of all ties... and then joined the coven anyways. Because, like we feel, he's never going to really want to be away from magic, just needs better experiences 

this is why i was able to write the whole fic quite quickly in the end, because i’d been thinking about it for a LONG TIME.

Excalibur and chapter 5 onwards

one of the ideas i had i never used (but seemingly hadnt thought of back in september i guess) was a plotline about simon’s sword and discovering his family ties to arthur. you can see the remains of it in the wales chapter.

people were talking about outlines on discord (invite here, if you want it!) and i decided to write down the thoughts i had at that point. as you can see - starts REALLY detailed and tails off dramatically...

by the time the Wales chapter was already 12k, i was like - i’m cutting this plotline. maybe i’ll do something else with it later.

5 – Office Politics? (is this a funny joke re Classroom Politics, or just lame?)

Sex in Baz’s car – why don’t we do this in my car, it’s much bigger? Yes, but mine is much nicer.

Coven meeting, politics

Simon’s flat – it’s not nice, Simon could live elsewhere but why bother– Shepard/Penny in USA. Fiona/Nico out in the country, she gave me this flat – I think she felt sorry for me. Why would she feel sorry for you?

vampire babies, aren’t you gay. Are you gay … Pan, maybe.

“are you sure you don’t want sex

Blowjob – anal, Baz learned to cast silently at school, laughing, it’s nice

You should get another haircut – I can’t afford it, you literally told me you can – Mage’s money, Simon angry but its OK

Baz doesn’t come to work on Monday – Simon freaking out, goes to his house. Baz is asleep, he’s been sleeping through the weekends to recover magic, still tired – Simon yells at him, tells Baz he can slow down – they still don’t quite talk

6 – the Once and Future Kin (maybe this is split over the next two chapters)

Wales

Dead spot, near Simon’s relatives, talk about the Mage

Yeah, they can share a bed…

Baz first time bottoming – asks Simon to take his shirt off

Baz mourning the wings

Simon tells Baz he’s only slept with people he was serious about, Baz is shocked but still doesn’t tell Simon he’s in love with him

What are you going to do once all this is over? IDK. You could do anything.. (I can’t) What are you going to do? You really could do anything… No. Baz tells Simon about the breakdown, Simon feels better…. They match, but also he thinks – I could do something, I’m not as pathetic as that

Excalibur? Baz willing to stay to investigate Simon’s past, maybe – this could be a nice thing. Maybe

7 - Let It All Out

“I think I’m in love with Baz.”

Simon talking to therapist about how he feels he can move on, doesn’t need to do penance – going to go and do something else.

How does he tell him? TBC

8 – Epilogue

Simon and Baz doing whatever they do next - TBC but it should be magic

BAZ POV

Let It All Out

this chapter was such a pain, you have no idea. yet by that point i was riding high on the reception of the fic so somehow i still made myself write it in a week.

i re-wrote the confession several times. here are two three of them:

“Thanks,” I tell him. “It’s not my birthday or anything.”

“No,” Baz says. “I know. Simon––”

“You said my name,” I say stupidly. The thing he hardly ever does, except when he really means it.

“Yes,” Baz says. “I came to tell you that I’m in love with you. This isn’t just sex for me. It never was. You’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever––”

I don’t let him finish. I now think he’s got a whole speech planned (Baz is dramatic, I forgot that) and I don��t think I can listen to the whole thing without kissing him first.

I kiss him – I don’t know what to do with the roses, and they get tangled a bit in Baz’s hair, but he doesn’t mind. He’s got his arms round my waist and we’re kissing and he’s in love with me. Oh.

I break away. “I’m in love with you too. I was going to tell you when you got back.”

Baz’s smile is like the sunrise. “I’m back.”

“I know. You’re at my gran’s house.

and another time with more austen -

“Oh,” I say. (Stupidly.)

“I want us to be together properly,” Baz says. “If you want that. Because I love you. I’m desperately in love with you. It’s driven me mad for years.”

He stops, like he might be waiting for me to say something and then continues anyway. Anxiously.

“Um. What do you think about me?”

“I thought you were Mr Darcy,” I say and then wish I hadn’t.

Baz’s face twists in confusion. “What?”

“You know, pine away forever without saying anything.”

"Snow, you do realise that Mr Darcy actually proposed to Elizabeth twice."

i cut this because a) the next line is obviously like ‘are you proposing??’ and i didn’t want to go there, and also b) it was clearly me trying to sort of downplay the confession because i was embarrassed about it.

and another:

“These are for you,” he tells me, as though he’s making sure there’s no confusion about this. (Too late, unfortunately.) He’s talking quickly, stumbling over his words like I’ve never seen him do before. “I’m sorry – I don’t know if you even like roses, and they’re only the best I could find in London, at short notice––”

“Baz, it’s all right. It’s not my birthday––”

“I love you,” Baz interrupts. “I should have said it earlier. I don’t just want to have sex. I want to grow old with you.”

I bite back a laugh. And a comment about vampire aging. Neither are appropriate right now.

“I was just looking at houses,” I tell him.

“OK,” Baz says, kind of annoyed. “Interesting, but random.”

“No, it isn’t

talking to @giishu about it (as i do) was helpful (as it often is).

[21:27, 06/02/2022] aralias: i've brought in the salisbury's and the fic has immediately turned into a richard curtis movie - to the extent that i literally wrote in a reference to notting hill [21:28, 06/02/2022] aralias: were you enjoying the 6 chapters of everyone being sad and angry? well, that's all over now. it's just rich people sitting around in large houses and last minute confessions [21:29, 06/02/2022] giishu: 🤣 [21:30, 06/02/2022] giishu: sad angry and horny ...

[22:17, 06/02/2022] aralias: i have written a few more comedy paragraphs

[22:18, 06/02/2022] aralias: i have no idea what readers will make of it, but i acutally think this IS right because what has been missing from their relationship is romance.........

[22:21, 06/02/2022] giishu: So, he must be here, on his way somewhere else. Maybe the hospital – that would explain the flowers. Or a birthday party.

[22:21, 06/02/2022] giishu: SIMON

[22:21, 06/02/2022] aralias: 🤣

[22:21, 06/02/2022] aralias: is this ok? you can tell me if it's too much and it feels like we've landed in a different fic

[22:22, 06/02/2022] giishu: well, you don't really know why Baz is there with the flowers

[22:22, 06/02/2022] giishu: well, you can guess 🤣 but it seems out of the blue, which makes more sense if you know the steps he went through

[22:23, 06/02/2022] aralias: is that a good thing, or a random thing - i mean, he'll explain it

[22:26, 06/02/2022] giishu: 🤣 I mean, I like it, it's a bit awkward but very sweet at the same time

[22:26, 06/02/2022] giishu: also you do want to know why he cut his visit short to show up, slightly rumpled, but with flowers, at Simon's gran's door :P

[22:27, 06/02/2022] giishu: also I'm glad Baz spoke first

[22:27, 06/02/2022] giishu: 🤣 because Simon would have said something like "do you need a lift to the hospital?" which would have ruined the mood a touch

[22:27, 06/02/2022] aralias: 😂🤣

[22:27, 06/02/2022] aralias: that's hilarious, i wish i'd thought of it

[22:28, 06/02/2022] giishu: 🤣 well, if you want to ruin the mood, go ahead

[22:29, 06/02/2022] giishu: imagine showing up for a grand declaration of love and then getting derailed before you even get a word in

[22:29, 06/02/2022] aralias: i can definitely imagine that

[22:34, 06/02/2022] giishu: well, Simon does deserve people showing up at his door with flowers for him

[22:38, 06/02/2022] giishu: but his thoughts about Baz in this chapter have been:

1) I love him

2) I have always loved him

3) maybe I'll run into him at the hairdressers: after all, he was there the last time

4) I miss him

5) fuck I wish we'd already made the sex tape so I'd have something to wank to

6) I'm telling Penny about this so this is official now, might as well send out the wedding invites

7) I cannot think about Baz anymore, I'm gonna go and buy a house

8) I wonder whether Baz wants this house to start our family in

9) Baz? At my door? it's more likely than you think

10) well clearly he can't be bringing flowers for me, must be an emergency

[22:39, 06/02/2022] aralias: 😅

[22:39, 06/02/2022] aralias: those are reasonable thoughts?

[22:39, 06/02/2022] giishu: for a Simon?

[22:39, 06/02/2022] giishu: yes

[22:39, 06/02/2022] aralias: 🤣

[22:44, 06/02/2022] giishu: and I mean, it is tonally different, but that's also 'cause Baz isn't there :D but I like the way Simon acts like he still WAS there - it shows how Baz would in fact fit into his life.

[22:44, 06/02/2022] giishu: he makes space for him

[22:44, 06/02/2022] giishu: even when he isn't there, yet

[22:44, 06/02/2022] giishu: 'cause he wants more!

[22:44, 06/02/2022] giishu: is good

[22:44, 06/02/2022] aralias: 🤞

[22:45, 06/02/2022] giishu: Simon running an elaborate daydream scenario where Baz is already his partner, trying to fit it around his current flat, realises it won't work well, immediately goes houseshopping irl :D

[22:46, 06/02/2022] aralias: he also got his life together enough that he felt confident buying a flat with other people's money

[22:46, 06/02/2022] giishu: I noticed :D

here we are again, talking about making everything MORE INTENSE. here’s the version we were talking about if you want to follow it and spot the differences. (basically, this version doesn’t have ANY of the parts people quoted back to me in the comments. that’s how you know you did ok with those edits and you can go big in this fandom, it’s ok)

[23:16, 07/02/2022] giishu: I love that Baz has to be invited in still. and how he is clearly trying to impress Simon's family.

[23:17, 07/02/2022] giishu: buuuuuuuuuuuuuut, I feel.... the feelings bit needs more. it feels too easy somehow? And I know that's sort of the point, that they're in a place where they can say these things AND believe them, even coming from each other

[23:17, 07/02/2022] aralias: i know what you mean

[23:18, 07/02/2022] aralias: back at simon's flat there is EMOTION

[23:18, 07/02/2022] aralias: but i think i will add some more simon thoughts in around the declaration if nothing else

[23:18, 07/02/2022] giishu: yeah

[23:18, 07/02/2022] giishu: gimme more Baz descriptions

[23:18, 07/02/2022] aralias: of him?

[23:19, 07/02/2022] giishu: is he fidgeting? nervous? what sort of cravat is he wearing?

[23:19, 07/02/2022] aralias: it's definitely all too fast

[23:19, 07/02/2022] aralias: 👍

[23:19, 07/02/2022] giishu: it feels like a moment where as it's happening, you realise you want to always remember it, so you try and notice everything

[23:20, 07/02/2022] aralias: yes, that's nice - simon could even think THOSE WORDS

[23:20, 07/02/2022] aralias: let's see

[23:20, 07/02/2022] giishu: though I guess at some point you focus on the most important bit :P

[23:20, 07/02/2022] aralias: it was a hard scene to write for lots of reasons......... one of which is that i was like, this will be new: baz never does this

[23:20, 07/02/2022] aralias: and then i was like - baz, what are you going to say

[23:20, 07/02/2022] aralias: and simon is refusing to help you, because that's the point of the scene

[23:20, 07/02/2022] aralias: /o\

[23:22, 07/02/2022] giishu: let's see... an overly anxious man is about to confess his undying love

[23:22, 07/02/2022] giishu: 🤣 I bet he gave a peptalk to himself in the car

[23:22, 07/02/2022] giishu: you can do this, Basilton! and what's more, you HAVE to do this!

[23:23, 07/02/2022] giishu: Penny wouldn't threathen you out of the blue!

[23:23, 07/02/2022] giishu: he wouldn't tell Penny if he wasn't sure

[23:23, 07/02/2022] giishu: right

[23:23, 07/02/2022] giishu: RIGHT?

[23:23, 07/02/2022] giishu: RIGHT!

[23:23, 07/02/2022] aralias: yes 👍

[23:23, 07/02/2022] giishu: that must have been an interesting florist encounter too

[23:24, 07/02/2022] aralias: yeah - he was not thinking clearly, he probably remembered he'd left simon's door open while paying and then was like -f uck, should i go back

[23:24, 07/02/2022] aralias: NO IM RIGHT HERE

[23:24, 07/02/2022] giishu: "a clearly unhinged man steps inside your shop. just another typical day of being a florist"

[23:25, 07/02/2022] giishu: I'm picturing the same vibe as Bernard doing taxes now 🤣

[23:26, 07/02/2022] giishu: can you help me find his favourite flowers? wait, does he have favourite flower? oh gods, why don't I know this???? I'll just get roses. Yeah, roses. Red ones. Very romantic.

[23:27, 07/02/2022] giishu: riding that adrenaline high of kicking down a door :D

[23:27, 07/02/2022] giishu: and then of knowing Simon likes him

[23:27, 07/02/2022] giishu: can't stop

[23:27, 07/02/2022] giishu: might overthink

[00:06, 08/02/2022] aralias: .... i've made baz a lot more crazy

[00:06, 08/02/2022] aralias: i'll think about it again tomorrow 🤔

[22:32, 11/02/2022] aralias: got an ending for this chapter............... final lines are perhaps a bit dodge, but i will think about it over night

[22:32, 11/02/2022] aralias: your thoughts appreciated if you have time 🙏

[22:33, 11/02/2022] aralias: i also tweaked a lot of the opening to make simon more crazy too

Other deleted scenes / small changes

slightly different ending to chapter 1, where the fallout is in that chapter (totally forgot i wrote this, and kept it which is even weirder) -

Baz is coming. His eyes shut, his mouth open as he groans softly. It’s a lovely sound. I think about kissing him again, swallowing it, pulling the sound deep inside myself. But the sex is over now. That feels like crossing a line. And besides, my brain’s coming back online – pointing out just how weird this whole thing is.

I just came here to find out what Baz was thinking. Why he’d want to work with me. I still don’t know. I’ve just made things even weirder between us.

I don’t look at him as I zip myself back up. Baz probably isn’t looking at me either.

We don’t have to talk about this, do we?

“Guess I’ll see you on Monday

This bit from chapter 5 - i already shared this in the comments

I stop myself from saying: Baz, I’m so much more attracted to you than I was ten minutes ago, let’s have sex. It’s kind of pointless. I was already itching to rip his dark-grey 'I’m taking democracy seriously' suit off him when I assumed he was still mourning Thatcher. “Waste of a vote,” I say instead.

He raises an eyebrow. “When I want your advice, Snow, I’ll be sure to ask for it.”

That should mean never, but it’s weird. The way he says it makes it feel almost warm. Like maybe Baz is flirting with me, rather than insulting me. (Maybe all the sex has gone to my brain.) Whatever it is, it feels like it’s worth seeing where this conversation is going. Just out of curiosity.

“If you want, I could teach you to drop your H’s,” I offer. “Since you missed out at school and now have no idea how to do a decent Cockney accent.”

Baz smiles and shakes his head. “I actually did extra-curricular drama during my Bachelor’s degree. So, you’d better Adam and Eve, I can rabbit proper, me old china.”

“That’s terrible,” I say, laughing. “That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.”

Baz doesn’t seem offended. I’m pretty sure he’s joking – Merlin – at his own expense. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d heard me give my Artful Dodger,” he tells me.

“You mean it gets worse?”

“Oh, piss off,” Baz says, but not like he means it. Not the way we’ve said those words to each other hundreds of times before. More like the way I tell Penny to piss off when she’s teasing me about watching television made for children.

It’s making me want to kiss him. (Not that I want to kiss Penny when we argue – or ever – but Penny isn’t a six-foot tall vampire with a well-fitted suit, pretty eyes and killer cheekbones.) (No offense, Penny.) It’s making me wonder what having sex with Baz would be like if we actually liked each other. Not that that’s going to happen, this is just a good conversation – but I find myself eying Baz’s lips anyway. They really are very kissable.

obviously i re-used this for the epilogue, as i hated the dodger impression but i loved baz doing university theatre.

and.... we can end with a kind of weird bit of failed sex from chapter 7:

He shakes his head. “No. I’m sorry.”

I pull out all the way, binning the condom as Baz keeps apologising.

“Sorry, I thought I could do it.”

“Hey, it’s all right,” I say, stretching out beside him. Remembering how calm Baz was earlier when I was freaking out about staying, and trying to channel that calm for him, now. “I don’t mind. Really.”

“I shouldn’t have suggested it.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“Really?” Baz says witheringly. “Even now?”

“Ten seconds of perfection is still perfection.”

i think there may still be some more spin-off material from other sources. @royalasstronaut has said she’s keen to write some baz POV, and i am KEEN too. i’ll advertise and put it in the tag. thanks for reading <3

#carry on #snowbaz #my content #my deleted scenes #restoration ecology

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cultgambles · 3 years

Text

Yeah She Bad Ain’t She

Why would I wanna keep her to myself

Dabi x Reader x Hawks

Wrote this in Hawks’ POV bc try new things. Enjoy! Also got inspired by some audios on gwa lol but what’s new.

Voyeurism, exhibitionism, public, threesome, mutual masturbation, one (1) gay joke, they/them pronouns for reader, afab tho

WC: 1794

Masterlist | Requests? open

The first time you step into the dingy bar of the LOV, you scrunch your nose at the smell. Cough into your fist, and scan the room with careful eyes. You see Tomura Shigaraki nursing a whiskey at the bar, Kurogiri behind it, Spinner chatting up Twice. Dabi is laid back on the couch, his arm slung around someone you don’t recognize.

“Hawks, our newest member!” Shigaraki says to the team. “Give him every hospitality.”

“Hey-yo!” you say, saluting leisurely as a greeting. Shigaraki introduces everyone, as if you don’t already know who everyone is. Except one person, the one cozied up to Dabi. They introduce themselves as [Y/N]. Someone you’ll have to research on later before you report back to the commission, which makes you sigh silently.

“Come sit! You’re in luck because tonight is movie night!” Twice says.

“Just tonight?” you ask, watching the rest of the members find seats around the small TV.

“Every Thursday!”

“What are we watching tonight?”

“Catch Me If You Can! About that American con artist,” [Y/N] says. “Pass me that blanket, would you?”

“Sounds interesting. And sure,” you say, tossing the Christmas themed blanket at them. You watch as they fluff it out on themselves and Dabi. You push over one of those lounge chairs and flop onto it. Shigaraki queues up Netflix and hits the play button.

About thirty minutes in, you hear [Y/N]. “Dabi, stop,” they whisper, smacking him on the arm lightly.

“What, I’m not doing anything at all.”

“Don’t act all innocent.” Out of your peripheral vision, you swear you see Dabi’s hand move under the blanket, [Y/N]’s hand gripping his forearm.

“But don’t I make you feel good, baby?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions. The problem is everyone is here.”

“Not like we haven’t done something like this before,” he scoffs. “Look, we even got an audience.”

Your face flushes as you listen to their conversation. You barely hear a low groan from [Y/N]’s lips.

“Can y’all shut the fuck up? I’m trying to see what Frank’s gonna do!” Shigaraki fumes, whipping around. A look at Dabi. “Oh.”

“C’mon, boss, don’t pay attention to us, watch the movie,” [Y/N] says.

“This is free entertainment right here.”

[Y/N]’s hips jolt upwards. “You perv.”

“More moaning my name, less talking,” Dabi growls, ripping the blanket off [Y/N]. [Y/N]’s wearing a yellow sundress, that by now, is hitched up above their hips. Their panties are pushed to the side, showing their glistening sex. Dabi’s middle finger and ring finger disappear inside of them, his palm pressing against the clit roughly as he fingers them.

“I-Is this a normal occurrence?” you stutter, face turning the same color as your wings.

“P-pretty normal, yeah, oh, Dabi, right there!” [Y/N] trails off, grinding up for more friction.

“What can we say, we like to have fun here.”

By now, the other league members have turned around, movie be damned.

“How are y’all so casual about this?!”

“Don’t be like that, you’re having a good time too, bird brain,” Dabi smirks, eyes drifting to your growing erection.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap. But he’s not wrong, both of them have got you so enamored. You hear the squelch and squeaks, the quickening of breaths.

“Dabi, I need you, need your cock,” you barely hear them whisper.

“Of course, doll. Lay down,” Dabi smiles softly, planting a kiss on their lips.

You don’t know if you’d rather be him or [Y/N].

[Y/N] slips down, horizontal on the couch. You eye Dabi as he stands straighter, nimble fingers unclasping his belt and pulling his cock out. It shimmers slightly in the TV light. He drags his cock along their folds, gathering wetness. He taps it against them. Without warning, he slams into them, both letting out a guttural sound at the sensation. His pace is slow, he’s gripping [Y/N]’s hips as a smack smack smack rings out as their bodies meet.

Somewhere behind you, you hear a zipper unzipping. You’re tempted to too, but would that be too soon? Must be, since this is basically your first official day here.

But you don’t deny how good [Y/N] looks taking Dabi’s cock. Hair splayed out, breasts moving under that sundress. You want to rip the dress off of them. Tt hold, knead at the flesh, and lick at the pert nipple. Your eyes travel down their body, where [Y/N] takes him in so nicely. How would they taste, you wonder.

And what about Dabi? Just the size of him could choke you out.

Dabi’s voice snaps you out of your reverie. “C’mon, man, if you’re just gonna stare at them, why don’t you play?”

“Nothin’ wrong with lookin,’” you trail off.

You so want to. Badly.

“Hawwwwkkks,” [Y/N] moans. “Let me taste you. Taste me. Whatever.”

“You heard them,” Dabi drawls.

One beat, and suddenly you’re up, fast as lightning. “[Y/N], let me take your dress off.”

“Okay,” [Y/N] lifts their arms as you pull the dress up over their head, revealing the tantalizing and smooth skin. You toss the dress somewhere to the side of you and rip off your gloves. You kneel beside them on the floor, slotting your mouth against theirs in an open mouthed kiss. Your hands sneak up, massaging their breasts and pinching the nipples.

You feel [Y/N]’s hand snake down your chest, and whimper as their hand grips your clothed cock. You pull away to bring it out. The tip is flushed red, a bead of precum forming at the slit. You stroke your hand down once, and move so your hips are flush with [Y/N]’s face.

“Nice dick,” [Y/N] and Dabi mutter at the same time.

“Jinx!” [Y/N] barks a laugh that soon turns into a moan at a particularly hard thrust.

[Y/N]’s tongue slides on the underside of your cock, massaging the vein there. Soon enough, it’s enveloped in their mouth and you fight to suppress a moan.

“Your mouth feels so good, baby.” [Y/N] hums, taking you in deeper. Their nose nuzzles the hair at the base of your dick slightly. They barely have to do any work as Dabi basically pushes them forward with each thrust. Dabi looks up at you with lazy eyes.

“Kiss me,” you plead, leaning in.

“That’s gay,” he says as he captures your lips with his.

You’ve never kissed a man before. He tastes like old cigarettes and mint. Your tongue slides against his teeth, and finally meets his tongue.

He’s got a tongue piercing.

How many piercings does this dude even have?

You jerk away without warning as [Y/N] does a particularly hard suck.

“Wanna feel their pussy?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Just because you’re new I’ll

let you.” Is this a trick?

You so want to.

[Y/N] pops off of you. “Dabs likes watching.”

“Does that even count since I’m also partaking?”

“I think so. Just get over here, I need your fat cock in my mouth. Not that yours wasn’t also good, Hawks. Just needs to be somewhere else,” [Y/N] says.

“Do it!” you hear.

Damn. You’re so wrapped up in these two, you forgot there was an audience. However, it seems that was the push you needed. You give the a-okay. Dabi nods, clearly pleased by your decision, and pulls out.

You trade places, [Y/N]’s hole flexing against nothing. You bring two fingers down to swipe at the wetness and run your tongue along the digits. You guide your cock in, letting out a satisfied moan at the warmth. [Y/N] squeezes your cock deliciously, and you almost want to come right then and there. You tell them so.

Your pace isn’t as brutal as Dabi’s but still elicits those sounds you're beginning to love out of [Y/N]’s mouth. A sick part of you hopes you’re better than Dabi, and that they will leave him for you.

Or maybe they’ll let you in again? How often do they do this sort of stuff, you wonder to yourself.

[Y/N] and Dabi are holding hands sweetly, their fingers brushing against his charred skin rhythmically.

Your hand moves to rub tight circles on their clit and you're squeezed impossibly tighter as a response.

“You gonna come, [Y/N]?” Dabi asks. “Getting sloppy there. Don’t bite, baby.”

“I’m so close,” [Y/N]’s voice dips off info nothingness at the end, mouth agape. They throw their head back as they move their hips against yours when your body meets theirs. “I want both of you to come inside of me.”

“Wasn’t gonna do it anywhere else,” Dabi chuckles.

“You want me to?” you ask.

“Yeah, fill me up good, Hawks.”

You glance at Dabi. He shrugs. Hope he doesn’t kill you for this.

“Oh shit,” you curse, feeling [Y/N] spasm around you and shudder.

You think Dabi comes at the same time you do. You slow to a languid pace, letting [Y/N]’s walls milk you.

“Good job, doll face,” you watch him lean down and peck [Y/N] on the forehead. “You too, bird brain.”

“Uh, thanks.” You pull out of [Y/N], and they wince at the loss. You tuck yourself back into your pants and [Y/N] wraps the blanket around their shoulders.

“Good show!” Twice says.

“Now let’s finish the movie,” Shigaraki huffs out.

“You have such a one track mind, Shiggy,” [Y/N] says, ruffling his hair.

“I’m just really invested.”

“Yeah, you were invested in us, too,” they say, looking down briefly.

“Oh shut up.” You catch a glimpse of his cock as he scurried to shove it back in his pants.

“See ya round, Hawks,” [Y/N] says, blowing you a kiss. They take Dabi’s hand in theirs and walk up the stairs at the back of the bar.

“Probably gonna fuck some more,” Spinner snickers.

You’re lucky your mic on the inside of your jacket just happened to die before you got up to some frisky business. This has got to be the weirdest thing you’ve been a part of: League of Villains just fuck as bonding activity.

Maybe you’ll keep this one to yourself. You wonder if they would ever invite you again.

#bnha #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #dabi x reader #dabi x hawks #dabi x reader x hawks #lemon #smut #dabi x you #hawks x you #bnha dabi #bnha hawks #my writing

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basicallywhiterice · 2 years

Text

the preparation (mark lee)

If you’re not his first and he’s not your last, then he’ll be your worst and you’ll be his best.

pairing: mark lee x reader

genre: fluff, angst, flangst. highschool!au, rich kid!au, debate!au, established relationship!au

summary: Stealing kisses, sweeping debate competitions, sharing dreams—for the first time—with someone who understands: being with Mark is being alive, basking in his radiance when you know you can’t linger. But how do you say goodbye when you haven’t left yet? In the end, you’ll never be kids again—and yet the path ahead is so uncertain. Can’t you stay with him for a little longer?

word count: 367

warnings: cursing, bad parents

a/n: this is a standalone fic, but it’s part 1/6 of the growing pains series

When you and Mark win the second debate tournament in a row, two days after you submit your early college application, you feel like a bit of a fraud.

“Holy shit, we won,” he beams, pulling you in for a kiss. You smile when he pulls back, trying to match his enthusiasm. “We’re on a winning streak now, and we’re gonna sweep at the next tournament—”

His phone buzzes, and his face immediately twists once he checks the notification.

“Parents?” you query tentatively. He nods, and you sigh sympathetically.

“You can guess how they reacted.”

“‘Good job, now don’t forget to submit your Wharton application tomorrow’?” you ask, one hand rising to cradle his face. He leans into your touch.

“Mhm—they couldn’t care less about anything else.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll get rejected, don’t worry.”

“Yeah.”

Mark hates Wharton and all things business-related. Unfortunately, his CEO parents are determined for him to go there too, oblivious to his love for physics and anthropology.

“Let’s not talk about it right now,” he settles, pocketing his phone. “We still won. Swept the floor with their asses in finals—I’m just surprised it was a 2-1 decision.”

“Yeah. Mark, I don’t—honestly, I don’t feel like I deserved it.” You glance down to the slant of his mouth, lips ready to part in protest. “I couldn’t help with the prep as much as I normally could. You helped edit my essays, and you still did most of the work, and I was… just there.”

You know it is unfair to burden him when he has worries of his own. You know it is unfair to feel this way about yourself. You know that this is about more than just the tournament.

“I’m sorry you feel like that,” he frowns, brushing a kiss on your forehead. You lean forward, hands wrapping around his neck, and rest your face on his shoulder. “We couldn’t have won without you researching and destroying teams in-round. Don’t doubt yourself, okay?” You nod. “And I know you’re worried about decisions, but things will work out. Everything will be okay in the end.”

He’s right, you have to admit. He’s completely right.

You wish he had said something different.

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palbabor-writes · 3 years

Text

Impetuous

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, SMUT/18+only, cunnilingus, switching, bratting, face-riding, Satoru being Satoru, so he’s chatty & in general the worst

Words: 12,815

“Knock it off,” you huff, doing your best to ignore how your breasts press against the flat planes of his chest. Then his fingers are under your chin, gently tipping your head up and leaning so close that his lips are inches from your own.

“But what if I don’t want to?” he teases, his voice falling into a lower, hushed pitch before he relaxes his hold, letting you slip from his hands.

Notes: this thing has been languishing in my drafts since like, January. because it was my first step away from BNHA i’ve sorta over analyzed it & edited it, likely to death. but anyway, without further ado, here is my first venture into the JJK fandom! thank you for edits & suggestions: @albinoburrito, @kugutsuu, @kogo & everyone else that i’ve forced to look at this thing. love you all sm & ty for putting up with me!

& it’s gojo because of course it fucking is.

Impetuous im·pet·u·ous /imˈpeCH(o͞o)əs/ adjective done quickly

“I hate to be a harbinger of bad news, and I can understand your frustration, but that’s what they asked me to do. Doesn’t matter what continent we’re on, elders are elders. Honestly, I’m a little shocked that this teaching pathway is even an option for him.” Although you speak softly, your voice seems to carry more in these close meeting rooms, clattering off the tatami mats and gleaming leather couches.

Yaga massages the bridge of his nose and adjusts his dark sunglasses before lifting his eyes to yours. “I understand, but I still feel that he would be an asset to our school. As long as his motivations remain pure, that’s all I can ask for, at present.”

“Pure or not,” you continue, lacing your fingers as you cross one leg over the other. “It’s vital to see how he handles himself on these missions. What if he has a student with him? I’ve never seen his fighting style, but I’ve heard he can be reckless. How can he foster confidence and proper growth if he’s not measured on the basics? There’s the additional worry of taking him off of the higher ranked missions. Or, if you elect to keep sending him on them, can he handle both? Can he teach and still be a successful sorcerer and asset?”

“He’ll be expected to do both. He knows this,” Yaga sighs, reaching for his lukewarm cup of tea. “While he’s not known for his conventionality, I don’t think that will interfere with his teaching. As I said, some recent events at the school have helped to illuminate the importance of managing the coming generation. Satoru is confident, and I believe that will translate well to any future students. He’s already taken on some responsibility with young Fushiguro and the boy is doing well under his instruction.”

“Fushiguro?” you ponder. Your school administration and the head elders had given you a list of names, people who represented the top families among Japan’s sorcerers, but you don’t remember seeing a name like Fushiguro among the others.

“He’s related to the Zen’in family,” Yaga explains, spreading his vast hands open as he replaces his tea cup against the low table that rests between the two of you. “So, if I’m understanding correctly, your superiors in America have sent you to Japan to collect a series of reports. One is on the influence of curses and how our alumni comport themselves in the field. The other is the analysis of our teaching styles and to, how did you put it, ‘further diversify your own teaching abilities as a jujutsu educator.’ And, as if that wasn’t possibly enough, to observe our newest teaching candidate, Satoru Gojo.”

“In a nutshell,” you confirm, a smile quirking the edge of your lips. “We’ve got some missions lined up, right?”

“Yes. You will enter the field with Satoru and one other returning alumna, Shoko Ieiri. She’s finished her medical degree and will join our research facilities in the coming weeks.”

“Oh! She’s the one who can use the reverse healing technique! I’ve heard of her.”

“Yes. She was in Satoru’s class. I realize your report is the main aim that you have here, but I would ask that you keep an open mind. While your report is of value to our school, it will not affect my decision on the matter.”

You lean against the stiff cushions of the couch and cock your head at Yaga’s impassive expression. “Of course,” you assure him, noting that nothing in his outward appearance shifts as you give him the response he was waiting for. “Should be an interesting week, at the very least.”

“Oh,” Yaga replies, finally cracking a less than reassuring grin. “Satoru will make sure of that.”

“Hey! (L/N)-san! The next report is up and they’re sending a manager for us, hurry up! Stop scribbling things in that little notebook. What are you writing anyway? Is it some kinda biography? Oooh! Is it on me? Is that why you keep looking at me? It is, isn’t it? Ahh, now I’m gonna feel self-conscious.”

You snap your notepad closed and slip it into your hip pouch, stepping toward the two fellow members of your team. “It’s just routine notes and you don’t need to call me (L/N)-san. I realize it’s likely force of habit, but please, just call me (Y/N).”

“Ahhh! We’re already on a first name basis! I’m blushing. I’ve never had a girl be this forward with me!” Satoru sighs, clapping his hands against his cheeks and leaning over you. “You’re so bold!”

“Ugh,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at him. “Liar, and stop that. I’m still the senior sorcerer in this party. I–”

“But you’re just a grade 1,” he interrupts, bracing his hands on his hips and exaggerating his stance, moving his face close to yours. As he looms ever nearer, you raise your chin and hold your ground. This invasion of personal space is a tactic he loves to use.

At first, you’d figured he was just another one of those guys who weren’t aware how intimidating their sheer height and presence came off to others. However, as the days wore on, you noticed his intentional maneuvering. He would press at Shoko too, but she was better at ignoring him, so he soon turned his full attention to you.

“Yeah, I might only be a grade 1, but they have given me the command on all of our missions. It’s my job to file the reports, a task that you, as the technical ‘junior party’, aren’t trusted to do.”

“You’re so right! That’s a tremendous responsibility. How do you stand under all that pressure (Y/N)! The role of the pencil pusher is such a big job. I should act right! Or I’ll never be a real jujutsu sorcerer! God, look at this Shoko, we need to get our shit together! At this rate, we’ll never be able to file our own reports!”

“Now, now,” you tut, raising a finger in front of your face, forcing him to take a subconscious step backwards. “Watch what you say, after all, you’re wanting to become a teacher. So some part of the masochism of endless paperwork must appeal to you.”

Satoru’s smooth lips raise into a broad smirk and pulls away, arching his arms behind his pale head. “Hmm, I’ll give you that one (Y/N). Mainly because of your choice of wording. Masochism. What a word for it. And why’d you have to say it so straight faced? Oh, that reminds me, what time is our next mission at?”

“Uh, why did masochism remind you of that?” you pause, lifting your wrist so you can check the time on your watch. “I think it’s in two hours, give or take traffic.”

“Hmm, and it’s in the Chiba district?”

“Yeah, that’s in Tokyo, right?”

“It is,” Shoko chimes in, twirling a lock of her long brown hair between two of her fingers. Her low voice reminds you, and you turn to face her. “Speaking of names, I never asked, would you prefer Shoko or Ieiri?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she replies, lifting her tawny eyes to yours, catching some of the bright sunlight as it fades into the deep circles under her eyelids. The contrast makes her skin look even more pallid. “First name, last name, whatever is easier.”

“Shoko okay with you then?”

“Sure,” she nods, the ghost of a smile lifting her lips.

“Oi!” Satoru interrupts, slinging an arm over Shoko’s shoulder and fixing you with a pointed look. Or you assume he is, it’s hard to tell where he’s looking because of those white strips of cloth that obscure his eyes. “You know what’s in Chiba, don’t you?”

You blink at him, unsure if this is another one of his aimless questions or something genuine. “No. Should I?”

“You’re a tourist and you really don’t know what’s in–”

“We’ve already been over this Satoru; I am not a tourist,” you protest. “I’m here on official business from my administration to–”

“Yeah, yeah. Look, special, ‘top secret’ assignment or not, you’re still basically a tourist because it’s your first time to Japan. You’re honestly telling me you didn’t look up anything before you arrived?”

“Um,” you waver, eyes narrowing at the cheerful leer that’s drifting over Satoru’s angular features. “I looked up some basic things. I know about the Shinjuku and Roppongi districts. Oh, and Harajuku, that’s a big one too.”

“Mmhm, very good, my little tourist, but do you know what’s in the Chiba district?”

“Don’t call me that and stop screwing around Satoru. If this has nothing to do with the mission, then I’m not interested. I could care less what’s in the district–”

“Might just be rumors, but I’ve been hearing about an increase in cursed activity. Especially around that theme park. I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” he looks upward, pearlescent hair tumbling behind his wrappings. “I guess it’s not surprising that it’s a hot spot, what with all the people who are always checking it out. It’s pretty famous.”

Tch. He’s not gonna tell you.

You suck your teeth and twist your hand back to your hip pouch, digging for your phone. As you peer over the search results you can hear him rambling on about the notoriety of the unnamed place but as soon as you hit the second result, your head whips back up.

There’s no way.

Of course you’d heard of it, you’d even thought about it when the higher ups asked you to take on the assignment to Japan, but never, not in a million years, would you have figured that you’d have a chance to go. Not on this trip.

“Are you serious?” you breathe, blinking up at his smug face. Satoru doesn’t answer, just pops one hand under his chin and gives you a shit-eating grin. You look back at your phone and bite your lip, doing your best to contain your budding excitement, double checking the map for the district.

If he’s not pulling some kind of elaborate joke, it looks like Tokyo Disneyland is the location of your next mission.

“What… what the fuck is this, some kinda elaborate joke??”

The gates to the amusement park are warped, and the paint is peeling; one side looks like it’s about to melt off of the frame, all twisted metal and faded rust. Just past the gates you can see what looks like an old merry-go-round, complete with lions, tigers, bears and several sets of horses. At the tip-top of the ride rest a star, and atop that star is a wraith like curse. It spindles around the flecks of gold and cool bronze, baring its teeth at the three of you and sputtering a long line of broken speech as it twists and turns.

“Huh, still looks about the same. This place was enormous when I was a kid. Now it’s a trendy spot for ghost hunters and thrill seekers! I think five or six people died here last year.” Satoru grins, tucking his hands into his pockets as he strides forward. In seconds, he’s beside the curse on the merry-go-round, silencing chittering of its inane dialogue, letting an eerie quiet seep over the rest of the abandoned grounds.

“So stupid. I cannot believe I let him make me think we were going to Disneyland. You know what he’s like, Shoko! Why didn’t you tell me? He–”

“I honestly don’t listen to him. No idea he was making you think this was Tokyo Disney,” Shoko interrupts, already following the path Satoru took, tucking her brown hair behind her neck with a loose hair tie. “But since we’re here, could you lower the curtain and take care of those level 2 curses on the ticket booth?”

You let out a long sigh and toss her a quick affirmative, reciting the familiar incantation, watching as the darkening shield slopes its way down from the skies, sheltering the three of you within its haze.

The first set of curses are easy enough and you swiftly take care of them, unleashing your cursed technique and splicing them into faded dust. How ridiculous, you think, opening the door to the booth and dodging an ill timed lunge from a sneakier curse who was hiding inside. Satoru honestly had you thinking that you’d be going to the Disneyland theme park. On the way over, he’d even told you about the layout of the park and what potential curses might be lurking about.

What a jerk.

Still, you muse, turning toward another shrieking hulk of a curse that’s lumbering toward you, it’s impressive he’d led you on so easily. You make a mental note to get back at him later, for now you need to clear this area and focus on the task at hand.

“I cannot believe that you led me on like that!” you pout, knocking back a small swig of beer.

“Pfft,” Satoru chuckles, wagging one long finger at you. “Didn’t ever say it was gonna be Disneyland, did I? You came to that conclusion all on your own.”

“Oh please! Making me look up what ‘famous tourist spots are in Chiba’ and then nodding each time I said I was excited to see some of the rides on the way over.”

“You could have really been into haunted carnivals. How was I supposed to know?”

“Ass,” you snap playfully, sticking your tongue out at his pleased smile.

After the mission and spotting your peeved expression, Satoru had insisted that you let him take the two of you out for a drink. According to Shoko, the bar in this neighborhood was highly rated and had some of the best specials in the entire district.

The place was packed; but somehow Shoko had secured three seats up at the bar top, ushering you to sit between her and Satoru, informing you there must always be a three foot buffer between her and ‘that loser’. The bartender seemed to know her and, before you could pull yourself into the worn leather seat, three foaming lagers were passed across the rough surface of the bar top, one for each of you.

“Thanks,” you’d murmured, cupping your hands around the glass. On your right, Satoru pushed his lager toward you, raising two fingers at the distracted barkeep as he chatted with Shoko. “What’s wrong? Don’t like beer?” you’d asked, bemused by his disgruntled expression.

“Nah,” he’d confirmed, wagging his digits a little faster, chin lifting as he let out a huffed exhale. “Messes with my eyes. I want something to eat, though. Hey! Shoko! Stop flirting with him and ask if they have anything sweet! Shokooo! Don’t ignore me!”

Shoko made a show of rolling her eyes but, a few minutes later, a plate of piping hot fried sweet buns appeared and he’d swiftly grabbed up one, popping it in his mouth and smacking it hungrily. You’d turned to ask Shoko what they were, but by the time you’d twisted back to Satoru over half of the cakes were gone.

“Damn, you inhaled them,” you’d exhaled, a little shocked he could scarf them down that quickly.

“Well, they’re not bad and hit the spot, for now,” he’d grinned. “Want one?”

“I’m good. You might bite my finger if I get too close… mistake it for one of the buns…”

“Awe, what’s wrong? Think you wouldn’t taste good?”

“Yikes,” you laugh and Satoru hums, clearly pleased with your genuine mirth.

Shoko, who was soon engrossed in conversation with a few of the other patrons to the left of her, kept ordering rounds for the both of you. To keep up, you diligently sipped at each fresh beer, careful to keep abreast of the thrum of the alcohol with several responsible swigs of water. Satoru seemed content with his small order of sweets and peppered you with questions about life in America. He asked about what grade year you taught, the ins and outs of curses within the states and how you liked Japan. He kept things lively and made a point to throw in a few lighthearted jokes at you, beaming each time you laughed at his barbs.

“So, what you’re saying is there’s no one in America quite like me?” he teases, stretching his long arms dramatically before leaning closer to you.

“Stop that! You’re gonna hit someone,” you grin, trying to shove at his side, watching as your hand freezes in midair, held off by his limitless technique. “Seriously? You’ve still got that on?”

“Mmhm,” Satoru intones. “24/7, 365!”

“You would,” you try to jostle him again, bemused by the fraying and shimmering sliver of infinity that rests between the two of you.

“It’s a tremendous strain on my brain, you know,” he bemoans, dropping his head and fixing a long frown over his lips.

“You deserve it.”

“Ack!” Satoru cries out, clutching at his heart. “Wow! No sympathy! You really gonna treat me like this? My senpai?”

“May I remind you - Tokyo Disneyland,” you intone, glaring at his haggard expression.

“WOW. You’re never gonna let that go, huh?” Satoru cracks a face, arching his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, letting a high pitched, cracked voice leech from his lips. “Ahhh, that damned man! He deprived me of my dreams! The chance to see Tokyo Disneyland, one last time!”

“What is that? Me? But… old?”

“Pretty good, right?”

“No.”

“Well, I think it was uncanny!” he crows, nodding.

“What in your warped mind makes you think I’ll sound anything like that when I’m old?” you ask, pushing your empty beer pint forward as you purse your lips.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so excited over the idea of a theme park,” he ponders, tapping a bent index finger against his smooth chin. “Don’t you guys have them in the states? The Disney parks, I mean.”

“We do, we have two. But, since you made me think we were coming to Tokyo Disneyland, I looked up some rides,” you snatch your phone from the counter, scrolling through a few photos before you land on the right one. “Ah! Here it is! Look at this! See?” you chirp, pushing the gleaming screen of your phone toward him.

“Uh. What am I looking at?”

“It’s the Tower of Terror!”

“Which is… ummm… a ride?”

“Yeah? And look at it! It’s upside down! I don’t think the one in America does that,” your finger reaches toward your phone and you blow up the closest image, tapping at the bright colors. Satoru laughs and waves a hand up, attracting the bartender once more and gesturing for another beer for you. “Imma get you another drink, you’re fun like this, plus, you’re just too cute with that little smile.”

You miss his last comment, wholly focused on finding another set of images. “Oh my God! Look! During Halloween they have a night parade in front of it! And… ahhh! Satoru! There’s a green ghost at the top! It’s almost like that curse we saw tonight at the carnival!”

His long fingers snatch up your bright device, and he yanks it away from your wide eyes. “Ok, that’s enough of that. I’m worried you might end up cursing me for not taking you.”

You give him a sour look and vainly try to grab your phone back, fingers unable to pass through his unseen barrier. “What? No fair! I still don’t understand how you can always have this up!”

“Practice,” he taunts, shaking his head at your determination and wandering touch, chuckling each time you bounce off of his cursed technique. “On another note,” he begins as your new lager is placed in front of you. “What’s in that report that you’re working on?”

You decide to ignore the fact that he’s still holding your phone and cautiously sip past the foam of your fresh beer, peering up at him, studying the lines of his white cloth. It doesn’t tell you much, so you look at his lips instead. They’re pale, but they’re held in a serious line, so you carefully construct your response. “What makes you think I have a report?”

“Why else would you be here?” Satoru counters, rapping his nails against the warped wood of the bar top. “I know you met with Yaga and you’re too cautious and overpowered to be sent on missions with Shoko and me. So you must be here for something else.”

“Officially,” you concede, “I’m here to observe the teaching techniques and skills of the alumni of your school. I’m sure this will come as no shock, but curses are getting more powerful, both here and overseas, and we’re doing our best to keep ahead of those changes. I’m supposed to pick up what tricks I can and bring them back home, to see how we can implement it.”

“Reasonable,” he allows, spreading his fingers before coiling them under his palms again. “But that’s not everything, is it?”

No, you think it’s not.

You lower your beer and look over at him. He’s braced himself against the bar and his head is dipped so his chin is almost against his breastbone. He doesn’t exactly look dejected, but you can see that he’s thinking deeply and something about that openness makes your heart squeeze. He looks a bit like a kicked puppy.

Ugh, he’s not a bad guy. He’s funny, and he knows what he’s doing, plus he has the confidence to get where he needs to go. In all honesty, he wouldn’t make a terrible teacher. Maybe not the best, but he certainly wouldn’t be the worst.

“I–there… there’s some concern you’d be too divided - that it’s not practical to have you teach and go on missions. I also don’t think your own elders trust you much.”

“Ah-ha!” Satoru beams, springing upward and pointing two finger guns at you. “You are here to look in on me! Knew it!”

You can’t help but laugh at him. “Fine, fine, you got me. Let’s get this over with, huh? So we can get back to talking about things other than work, I liked that. What’s the most direct thing I can ask? Hmm, oh! I’ll start with something easy–Why do you want to teach?”

“That’s easy?” he whines, head falling again.

“It’s straightforward,” you bargain, propping your chin on your fist, looking him over.

“Sure, let’s pretend that’s not a deceptively loaded question! Alright, well, it’s the best way to change things.”

“Change things?”

“Yup. Like you mentioned, lately curses have become more powerful and lately it feels like I’m the only one who’s being sent on these high-level missions. Frankly, it’s stupid to rely on just me that much, you know? That’s not practical, or even realistic. So, to my mind, it’s vital I throw my support behind some of these up-and-coming kids. You know, foster the next generation and all that. I want reliable allies in the field and to have that, I’ve gotta make sure they’re taught right. Give them everything I know, make them better than me, stronger than me.”

You’re quiet for a long breath, eyes wide, fingers frozen around your glass, which was midway to your lips. “Damn,” you smile, letting the word hang. “You know, that was actually a pretty good answer.”

Satoru clicks his tongue and curls his lips in a grimace. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I mean,” you chuckle and look up at him, eyes bright. “Well, your attitude doesn’t always inspire confidence.”

“Ahhhhhh,” he groans, thumping his covered forehead against the bar. “Such a low blow! Bartender! Another round for me!”

“Please,” you sigh, finally taking a sip of your beer. “Do not call your sweet buns ‘another round.’” He grins at you and leans across the bar top, shifting his weight toward your bent arm. The pressure of his shoulder is warm and you nudge at him a little, playfully. He tuts at you but continues to stare ahead, a faint smile teasing the edge of his lips.

As the bartender slides the requested plate of sweets down, you suddenly realize that you’re touching him. Your eyes widen and you slowly turn your head toward his. He’s not looking at you, content with chewing on his sweet bread, but he’s still braced against you. It’s like all of your senses are finely tuned to that one spot of faint friction between the two of you. You can feel the lines of his muscled arm as he shifts and you involuntarily gulp, doing your best to ignore the abrupt thudding of your heart.

He said he always kept it up, didn’t he? Something about 24/7 and all the days of the year, so why is he…

“Hey,” Shoko’s voice startles you and you instinctively slide closer to Satoru, arm dragging against his shoulder as you try to right yourself again. “I’m gonna go win this drinking contest these guys have started. You two sticking around for a bit?”

“Uh,” you begin, but Satoru cuts you off, draping an arm over the back of your chair. “Yeah, we’ll be here. What are the stakes?”

“Not sure. But the pot is likely against me, if you’re in a betting mood.”

“Sure, I’ll put 20,000 yen on you.”

“Is…” you start, but Shoko is already walking off, one arm pumped into the air as she shoulders her way to the long table that’s filled with five or six others, all of them holding a full pint glass of beer between their hands. You turn back to Satoru and let out a long breath. “Is that safe?”

“Huh?” he asks, face close to yours. You can smell his cologne from here and the heady scent of him and crisp patchouli fills your senses. “I mean Shoko, will she be ok?” you elaborate, eyes studying the space where his own would be, silently hoping that he’ll pull down the barrier that covers half of him from your curious gaze.

“Ah,” he nods sagely, leaning back a little to look out at where Shoko is sitting, quietly waiting for the start of the game with her full beer. “She’s got a ridiculously high tolerance. Wouldn’t be surprised if it’s part of her cursed technique. She’ll be fine.”

“True, she likely knows the limits of the human body better than anyone else. But… I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so… excited?” you muse, sitting against your chair and running into the flat palm of Satoru’s hand. For a moment, you debate shifting away, but he’s not really doing anything, just letting the tips of his fingers rest against the curve of your spine, tapping a disjointed rhythm as he watches the start of the contest, that all too familiar smile still tugging at the corners of his lips.

“She used to be a little more laid back, you know?” he replies, leaning a little harder into your side as he lowers his voice, keeping close to your ear so you can hear him. “She always looks so tired now and her whole outlook has changed, but I suppose four years of med school will do that to you. Although, I did hear that she cheated her way out.”

“No!” you gasp, eyebrows lifted in shock. Satoru laughs, and for once, you’re not thinking it might be at your expense. “Yeah! Just the word on the street. But I wouldn’t put it past her. Shoko’s always done her best to avoid things, namely confrontation or extra work, so it makes sense she’d jet outta med school as fast as she could too.”

“That’s crazy and frankly, terrifying.”

“Riiight?” he shivers, lips raising in an exaggerated wince. “But that’s our Shoko. I’ve got a feeling she’ll do well at the school and I’m grateful I’ll have time to work with her again. It’s been way too long…” Satoru trails off and you can feel his hand slip up your back, fingers ghosting over your shoulder blades.

“Stop that,” you scold, shaking him off with a quick jolt and twisting around to look at his roguish smirk. “What happened to always maintaining your barrier?”

“Awe” he groans, dunking his head against your shoulder with a thump. “Come on, I’ve gotta win you over somehow!”

“Are you serious?”

“Well, I mean, I want the job.”

“I’m gonna hit you,” you threaten, doing your best to keep your bubbling amusement contained.

“Try it,” he taunts, lifting his head and keeping his face close. His nose is inches from yours and you can barely make out his sharp grin, but you can feel the drag and pull of his breath as it passes over you, leaving a lingering sweetness against your skin. Instantly, your hand lifts to him, fully intent on shoving him back, but you can’t move any closer, trapped by the sudden emergence of his infinity.

“Ass,” you prickle, shaking your head at his antics. Another peal of laughter falls from his soft lips and you can’t help but smile back, caught up in his infectious joviality. “Tch. Don’t make me find more Tokyo Disney pictures.”

“You can’t,” he informs you, cocking his head at your confusion. “I still have your phone.”

“Hey! Give that back!” you gasp, snatching blindly at him. He shifts back into his seat and yanks your device out of his pocket, waggling it tauntingly in front of you. “Uh-uh! Gotta get past the barrier first!”

“That’s not fair!”

“Never said that I’d make this… oh! Shoko! How did it go? Win me something?”

You twist and spot Shoko’s dark head approaching the two of you. She pauses beside Satoru and flips a large stack of bills down on the bar top, a wide grin on her usually impassive face. “As expected, I won. Here’s your cut, Satoru. Don’t spend it all in one place or on another order of sweet buns, would you? Think you can do that for me?”

She and Satoru bicker back and forth playfully as you unfold several of the notes, aimlessly organizing them on the countertop as their brisk conversation winds back down.

“So,” Shoko murmurs, pulling a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket and knocking one free from the carton. “You two gonna head out soon? I don’t really see a need to call one of the managers, the school’s close by and so is (Y/N)’s hotel.”

“Yeah,” Satoru replies, finally passing your phone back as he collects the neatly stacked set of yen from you. “Figured, I’d see her back.”

“I can find it!” you protest, jamming your phone safely into your pouch once more.

“Sure,” he mocks, arching toward you as he braces an elbow against the bar. “You can barely speak Japanese and I know you can’t read much kanji, but sure thing, let’s let you loose in the city. See how far you make it before you’re calling one of us, hmm?”

“That’s not… I–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Satoru waves his hand back and forth and turns back to Shoko. “I’ll let her finish her drink and then we’ll head out. See you tomorrow?”

Shoko nods at his question and, for a moment, you think you spy a knowing look pass between the two of them, but before you can call out to her, Shoko is already making her way toward the door.

“What was that?” you ask, eyes narrowed as Satoru looks down at you, white hair gleaming under the low lights. “What?” he asks innocently, propping his chin onto his open palm. “That look that the two of you just gave each other.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. You sure that beer didn’t hit you a little too hard?”

“Ugh, shut up.”

Despite it being late August, a cool breeze greets the two of you when you step out of the bar. “It’s so nice out,” you comment, readjusting your boots as you hop onto the sidewalk.

“Mmhm,” he agrees, bracing his arms behind his head as you make your way down the street. “So did you decide what you’re gonna write in your report?”

You glance up at him and make sure he can see you rolling your eyes. “Back to trying to butter me up?”

“Never! Just asking. If you wanna say I’m crazy and can’t be trusted, that’s fine. I can think of a few others who’d agree with you.”

“Oh? Who?”

“Most people,” he laughs, stepping a little nearer and bumping against you, shocking you with the actual weight and warmth of his body again. As you continue on, you lift your hand to his arm and press the pad of your finger against his sleeve. This time, nothing bars your way so you run the digit slowly along his arm, smiling when he shivers and bats you away.

“Stop that! Someone’s gonna see and think you’re taking advantage of me!”

The laugh that explodes from your chest at that mental image makes you stop dead in your tracks, arms lacing around your shaking stomach. Satoru scoffs at your bent figure and leans down, shaking his head at your guffawing.

“The… the… fact that you… think that anyone… would think that… I–”

“You’re lucky your laugh is so cute,” he muses, bracing his arms over your bent back, playfully pinning you down as he crosses his forearms.

“Hey!” you protest, squirming under his hold. “Let me up!”

“Tell me what you’ve written about me!” he threatens, chuckling as you squirm under him.

“I only said that Satoru Gojo is an absolute monster and shouldn’t be trusted with anyone’s future,” you cry out, overly pantomiming your overwrought expressions, peeking up at him from under his laced arms.

“Oh? Just that? Well, you’re right. So, fair is fair!” Satoru replies, slipping off of you so fast that you nearly tumble to the hard concrete. Half a beat later, he’s back in front of you and lifting you back to your full height, fingers soothing over your arms as he tugs you toward him. “Would it kill you to toss in a bit of praise? Talk about my undeniable prowess and skill? Wax poetic about my stunning efficiency? You know, make them think that I’ve won you over with my charms. After all, you can’t resist me, can you?”

“But what if I don’t want to?” he teases, his voice falling into a lower, hushed pitch before he relaxes his hold, letting you slip from his hands.

A distant quake dashes up your spine, but it’s not from the chill in the air. “Uh, you sure you didn’t sneak some shots under the table? The way you’re pawing at me, you’d think you were the one in the drinking contest.”

“Nah, I told you, I don’t drink. Messes with my eyes.” Satoru pats his index finger against his white wrappings for emphasis.

“Mmm, the six eyes, right? Powerful ability, from what little I’ve heard of it.”

“Yeah,” he hums. “It’s a rare technique. Wanna see?”

You’d walked on, but once the question leaves his lips your feet swivel back, as if they have a mind of their own. He’s standing where he was, hands dug into the pockets of his pants, a lazy smile resting on his lips. The moonlight makes his hair shine, and the gleam is bright against the darkness of the street. The glow makes him look taller, imposing. He’s quiet as he waits for your answer and you take advantage of the extra time to mull over the strange man in front of you.

He’s enigmatic; a force to be reckoned with, for curses and fellow sorcerers alike and, like most jujutsu users, a little crazy. Even knowing all of this, there’s something about him that’s drawing you in. It’s like the pull of a magnet. It tugs at the forefront of your mind and makes you step closer, wanting to see if you can unravel the puzzle that’s Satoru Gojo.

“Fine,” you hear yourself reply, crossing your arms, steadfastly watching for his next move. “Go on. Let me see what all the hype is about.”

He grins and that mischievous look makes your heart beat race against your breastbone as yet another quake slips up your back. “Ready?” he asks, right thumb hooking under the fabric that covers his eyes. You nod once and the pad of his finger starts that short, upward, pull.

He’s slow, painfully slow, in his unveiling.

The smooth angle of his upper cheek peeks out, and he’s careful to roll up the white cloth as he goes. Then, right as he hits the groove of his lower eye, he stops, a frown pulling over his lips. “Mmm, I don’t know…” he contemplates, holding his thumb under his wrappings. “What if I don’t live up to your expectations? Can’t let you down. Not when you’ve been so patient. I know you’ve been wanting to ask, I can see it in your face. Every time we’d start an exorcism you’d look at me, like you were waiting, watching to see if I’d finally take off the coverings.”

Did you?

Does it matter?

Do you want it to matter?

Flabbergasted by his all too true accusations and entirely eaten up with curiosity, you march up to him and wrap your fingers around his raised wrist, not noticing that you’re actually touching him and completely unaware of the alluring smile he flashes when your hand coils around his. “Ugh, come on! For once in your life, stop being such a tease! You’re never fair, always so… so pompous and… and–”

You’d shoved his hand upward as you began your preamble but as soon as the tightly wrapped cloth passed over his right eye you feel your breath leave your tensed body.

His eyelashes are pale, the same ashen color as his hair, but they contrast beautifully with the lone eye that peers down. Beautiful? No, it’s more than that. It’s… it’s…

Truthfully, it’s indescribable and unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

It’s blue; but it’s not an ordinary shade. No, the color seems to meld and shift before your shocked gaze, drifting from hue to hue as the color deepens and lightens. Clouds. It’s like clouds passing over a summer sky. The brightness of the cerulean ensnares you, and you can feel your mouth go dry as you stare up at him.

His eyes are stunning, perfect, and irresistible, hauntingly so.

“So, what do you think?” Satoru asks, pulling his wrist from your grasp and snatching your limp hand in his, twining his long fingers between your own. His skin is warm and you need to say something, anything, but your mind is stuttering, lagging miles behind as you fall headfirst into the overwhelming pull of his presence.

Finally, you unstick part of your tongue.

“They’re… uh… I don’t… ha… God…” You shake your head roughly and the familiarity of that motion slips out of the trance he’s placed you under. As soon as you can think again, you jerk your hand from his and blindly walk down the darkened street. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and you can’t stop nibbling on your lower lip.

It’s not… this isn’t how this is supposed to go, you think, trying vainly to get the shine of Satoru’s eyes out of your mind.

“Never answered my question,” Satoru coos beside you, his long legs quickly catching up with you. “What’s wrong? You like em’ a little too much?… Or…”

“They… they’re kinda creepy,” you blurt out, fingers curling into your palms.

“Creepy!” he gasps, hopping in front of you and lifting up both sides of his wrappings, granting you a peek of both eyes. You do your best to avoid looking at him head on, turning and weaving from him, but he dances closer each time you shift. Damn it. His animated performance makes you exhale a quiet chuckle, and he takes your amusement as a sign to continue, constantly placing himself in your way with a broad grin.

“Stop!” you plead, openly laughing at his sudden burst of silliness. “Now you’re acting like a creep! Satoru! Don’t! Stop showing them to me! You’re losing all of your appeal! Isn’t part of your charm the mystery? Actually, that’s likely all of your charm. Come on, stop it, there’s a cop on that street corner, he’s gonna think you’re drunk and harassing me!”

“Whaaat!” Satoru gulps, whipping his head around to look at the tired policemen that’s leaning against a dim street lamp. “Oh no! The police! Quick (Y/N), before he spots us!” His long fingers snatch up your pliant wrist and he tugs you into a dark alleyway.

“Hey! Where are you taking me? Officer!” you call out playfully as you balefully follow him, dragging your feet along the dusty ground. “He’s over here! Help!”

“Oi! Knock it off! You wanna get me arrested?”

“Oh please, there’s no way that guy is about to follow–”

“Shit! Shhh, he’s coming this way! Come on!” The sheer force of his grip yanks you forward and you stumble after him. He takes the corner of the next alleyway and the pair of you dash along the wet patches that litter the broken concrete. He’s moving at a tremendous speed, but his feet barely make a noise as he glides over the grimy ground and it takes everything you’ve got to just hold on and keep up.

A few twists and turns later, you can finally see the bright lights of the busy street that your hotel is on and you feel a heavy exhale of relief leave your burning lungs. Satoru skids to a halt right before he tumbles onto the safety of the sidewalk that rests a few paces ahead and pulls you beside him, grinning down at you as you try to catch your breath.

“I think we lost him!” he beams and you suck your teeth as you bend over, hands bracing themselves against your knees. “There…there’s no… he wasn’t actually chasing us. Even if he was, I doubt he can catch up now….” your voice trails off as you hear a distant shout from the alleyway and the thud of heavy boots.

No. There’s no way you think dumbly as you stare into the darkness, eyes searching for movement.

“See? I told you he was on to us. He’ll see us if he comes this way. What if… Oooh, lemme try something,” Satoru’s broad hands grab at you and he swiftly maneuvers you against the damp brick of the nearest building, careful not to scrape your back as he pushes you against the rust colored siding. “Just play along, I doubt he’ll notice. Don’t give me that look, it’s your fault he’s following us!”

“My fault? I didn’t… oh–”

His lips are sleeker than you’d imagined.

That first, teasing kiss he gives you already has you lifting your head, following the beguiling smoothness of his mouth, silently asking him for another caress. When he leans down your hands bunch into the dark fabric of his uniform and you can feel his smile against your slackened lips. He doesn’t touch you; his fingers don’t wander to the back of your jaw or the dip of your skull, instead he opts to flatten his angles against your curves, pressing until you can’t feel anything but him.

The next kiss he gives you has a little more bite behind it, literally.

His sharp nose bumps your cheek and his teeth worry against the plush swell of your lower lip, sucking and nipping until you’re snatching for his shoulders, searching for some kind of leverage. His mouth parts and right when you think he’s about to deepen his strokes and teasing pecks, he leans back and cocks his head at your flustered expression. “I’ve always wanted to try that,” he tells you, bracing one of his arms above your head. “It looks so fun in the movies.”

That cop could be right behind him, could be waiting for you both to stop your ridiculous routine and face the harsh gleam of reality, but you don’t care, not right now.

Your hands had fallen from him when he pulled back, and the absence of his warmth makes you desperate to touch him again. But, when you snatch at the corners of his dark jacket, you’re met with that damned barrier.

“Really?” you bemoan, licking at your kiss slick lips, trying again. “You’re the worst, you know that? You let me get used to the idea of having access to you and then just cut it–mmmph…”

With a faint shudder of space, his barrier is lowered once more and his lips are back against yours. This time, his hands join in and he cups his fingers behind your ears, tilting you up as he glides his soft touch over you until you’re groaning.

“Could have just told me you wanted more…” he rumbles in between his caresses, fingers tracing over the line of your jaw, your neck, and the slope of your shoulders. It’s like he can’t decide where he wants to go and you love the momentary burst of indecisiveness that’s broken over him.

More, apparently, entails you asking him to come up to your room.

He’d laughed when you’d mentioned it, your lips swollen and glassy from his attentions, and you’d almost taken it back, peeved by his genuine amusement at the idea, but then he’d plucked you into his arms and smoothed any lingering doubts with another flurry of nips and kisses.

“This gonna make it into your report?” he grins, yanking his high collared jacket off and tossing it carelessly onto the floor. “I should,” you barb, pulling the long band of your hip pouch off, letting it clatter to the ground as your fingers work up the buttons of your own uniform. “Let them think that you’re abusing your status.”

“Tch, me? Abuse my power? Never. Hey, I think you’re supposed to go slower with that. Don’t just yank all of your clothes off. You know, take your time, tease me a little,” Satoru chuckles, jerking his chin toward your busy hands.

“Oh? Wanting a show?” you ask, threading the last button and spreading the heavy material apart, revealing the thin shirt that’s obscuring his view of your breasts and stomach. “Well, that’s too bad, because taking all this gear off is never fun, or sexy for that matter…”

“Not with that attitude,” he hums, stepping closer, peeling his skin tight undershirt off and revealing the sleek planes of his rippled muscles. Most sorcerers are fit; and many boast beefier sets of pectorals and curving arches of biceps and triceps, but there’s something about the streamlined leanness of Satoru that’s making your hands itch. He’s not far, you could reach out for him, slip your fingers over the dips and beveled lines of his abdomen and follow that tempting strip of white that winds down the front of his pants, but that makes this too easy and there’s nothing about Satoru that’s easy.

“Mmm, that’s a new look.” His voice is distant to your ears, but the satisfied note that’s vibrating through his words makes you snap your head up, fingernails scraping against your palms. “You look like you wanna eat me (Y/N)… or maybe, taste is a better adjective. Awe, what’s the matter? Worried I won’t let you?”

You run your tongue over your lips and lift one hand, holding it steady and crooking your index finger at his brazen expression, pleased to see that cheeky smile of his falters a little. “Do me a favor, come here and take off that blindfold.”

“Ah-ha, so bossy,” he growls, voice sinking into that sinfully lower octave as he raises his broad hands to the back of his wrappings, unwinding the fabric and slowly advancing toward you. He stops when the tips of his toes are inches from your own, bracing his palms toward his face, holding the last strip across his eyes. “Wanna do the honors? Or are you expecting me to do all the work tonight?”

“As if. Besides…” you snicker, pulling two fingers to the remains of his blindfold and peeling it down, watching as his hair falls forward, slowly divulging the top of his forehead, pale eyebrows and that shock of avid blue that’s already gazing down at you. “I think you like when I tell you what to do, don’t you?”

“Ahh, looks like she figured me out,” Satoru groans, letting the ivory bindings fall to the floor, his hands already reaching for your waist. He doesn’t give you an opportunity to study him, but they’ll be time for that later, you reason, arms lacing around his chorded neck.

This kiss is hungrier and his tongue immediately dances along the seam of your lips, pressing until you give in. It’s an awkward angle, but he expertly adjusts himself to you, slotting a warm palm against the small of your back and raising the other to curl into your hair, lifting you until it’s perfect.

He’s greedy, devouring every inch you give him with a ravenous edge, but when you suck on his lower lip, he slips into something that’s clearly a little more unhinged.

Suddenly, he’s the one who’s bending forward, trying to get as close to you as he physically can, hunching until you can trace your fingertips over the sharpness of his jaw. His teeth clink against yours as he snatches you up, and you can feel the sharp bulge of his length, the hardness grinding down your hips and stomach as he yanks you nearer. It’s hard to breathe, but he’s refusing to let you budge, lips avariciously seeking and pulling, leaving you with nothing else but the sheer enormity of his touch.

“Fuck,” he gasps, finally letting you fall from his grasp, heaving out a few unsteady breaths. “You’ve got way too much on. Why do you still have so much on?” He plucks at your shirt but stops when he frees the edge from your pants, cerulean eyes bright in the moonlight. “Take it off,” he heaves, forehead pressing against yours, lifting his fingers from you. “Take it off for me, please?”

You nod, a little taken aback by his sudden desperation, and he watches closely as you yank the thin material up, blue eyes shining as you unveil yourself. When the shirt passes over your breasts, he gives you a distracted kiss to the temple before he pulls away, freeing you to pull it over your head and sighing happily when it finally hits the floor, leaving you partially bare. As soon as your arms lower, he’s back against you, hands cupping at your hips, jerking you forward. “Whoa,” you gasp, bracing your palms against his chest. “Slow down. Let me get the rest of this–”

“No, no, no, no,” he chants, fingers smoothing up your spine. “Stop, for a second… just… just gimme a minute. You feel so nice. Your skin, it’s… it’s so warm and so fucking smooth, ahhh. Ohh, yes. A few more seconds (Y/N), just let me… It’s been so long since I’ve touched someone like this. I kinda forgot what it felt like and I don’t wanna let go, not yet.”

His head is bowed and that hauntingly blue gaze is covered by his winced eyelids, but he can’t seem to stop moving. Even as he asks you to hold still, to let him touch you, feel you, he keeps shifting his weight and burrowing his brow into the dip of your shoulder.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, nails scritching at the clasp of your bra. “Please? Lemme take it off. Come on. I know you wanna touch me too, I saw how you were looking at me a minute ago. You’re so fucking cute, I can’t… ahaha, fuck, I sound insane. Look, I’ll slow down, I promise, just gimme a little more of you.”

When he mischievously snaps the strap of your bra against your shoulder blade, you can’t help but laugh at his infectious exuberance. His head lifts from you and he turns his attention to your neck, soft lips sucking and nipping at you until you’re wriggling in his hold. “Alright, alright! Just step back, Satoru! I’ll take it off,” you placate, knocking him away and huffing at the long face he gives you in return. “Here,” your fingers unhook the two pronged clasp and the delicate lace slips from your shoulders, falling to the carpeted floor with a hush. “Okay, that’s everything on the top half. Now what are–Ah! Satoru!”

He takes full advantage of his superior speed and before you can blurt out a proper retort, he’s against you.

His teeth worry at your earlobe and he immediately hoists you upward, seizing the lush curve of your ass and pulling you into his powerful arms, urging your legs to wrap around his trim waist. When you shakily oblige, he cups one lean arm under you, but the other drags you forward, scraping your newly bared breasts and stiffened nipples against the planes of his powerful pectorals. When he walks, you jostle in his grasp and coil your fingers around his neck, smiling when he moans contentedly at your reliance on his firm hold. “Damn,” he grunts, cocking his head so he can lick a wet circle into your pulse. “You feel fucking good (Y/N). So damn smooth, how are you so soft? God, I want more, I wanna feel everything.”

The front of his shins hit the edge of your bed and he tumbles you down, a dark grin spreading over his face as he watches you stretch out teasingly. He plants a knee into the soft bedding and braces both arms beside your head, leering over you.

For a long breath, both of you study each other, eyes whisking over gleaming skin and the curves of your faces. Without the added heft of that blindfold Satoru’s snowy hair hangs loosely over his face, straight tendrils clinging to his brow, making him look younger, mellower, and so very handsome. Opting to take advantage of this lull, you reach up and thread your fingers into the silken strands.

When you reach the edge of his temple, you scrape your nails against his scalp, grinning as he lets a heavy exhale fall between his lips, cerulean eyes falling to a pleased half mast. “You’re trying to distract me,” he accuses, gliding a wide palm up your side. You shake your head and keep twirling his hair across your fingertips, marveling at his own softness. “No. I just like your hair.”

“That’s a first,” he snorts, cupping a palm underneath one of your breasts and pulling his thumb over the swelling bud of your nipple. “Here I am, trying to feel you up, and you’re too distracted by my hair to appreciate it. How rude.”

“Shut up,” you gasp out, arching into his hand as he tweaks and plucks at your pebbled tip. “You’re lucky I’m even… mmm… letting you do this.”

“Please. It was your idea, remember?”

Satoru lowers one of his braced arms, letting his weight fall heavily to one side as he keeps his deepening ministrations up. Your fingers are still buried in his hair when he drops his lips to your breast. You feel the flick of his tongue first, and the light tap has you bowing your back, gasping out a faint cry as his rough appendage continues to swipe and twirl over your sensitive flesh. Instinctively, your hands tug at his pearlescent strands and he tilts his head up, fixing you with a lazy stare. “That’s better, looks like I just need to refocus you, huh?” he muses, his words half garbled as he sucks your plump breast into his mouth. He keeps flicking his tongue over you as he suckles, lapping and nipping until you’re writhing under him.

Once he’s satisfied, his free hand lowers to your grinding hips, forcing you to lay flat against the bed, switching his attention to the neglected twin, sucking and pressing open mouthed bites to your damp, shaking skin.

A tight heat is coiling in your core and your thighs rub against each other, trying to cool the sharp pricks of arousal that are coursing through you. As soon as your hands fall from his head, Satoru picks up his pace, licking his sloppy tongue under your breasts and nibbling his way down your quivering stomach. “You’re still wearing way too much,” he scolds, fingers toying with the gold clasp of your pants.

“It’s… oh… difficult to take things off when you… ah–won’t let me move more than two feet from you.” You’d meant it to sound a little firmer, but his constant touch is wearing down your focus, distracting you with brilliant flashes of his luminescent blues and whites.

“Awe, (Y/N),” he whines, popping his hand against your hip, long fingers digging into your swelled curves. “That’s not fair. I told you, I always have my barrier up. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve touched someone, anyone? I mean really touched them?”

“Daw,” you sigh, propping yourself up on your elbows and peering down at him. “You poor thing. The all powerful Satoru Gojo, too honed and practiced with his neutral technique that he can’t even hold anyone’s hand.”

“Ha, such a jerk,” he laughs, exaggerating a wounded frown. “I bare my soul to you and this is how I’m treated?”

“Stop being so dramatic,” you scoff, yanking your legs from under him and popping up on your knees, hands reaching for him, curling under his jaw and urging him upwards. His eyes lock onto yours and the grin that tweaks the corner of his lips gives you an idea. “You said you wanted to touch more of me, right?”

As you wait for your answer, you scoot backwards, making him follow you across the bed, finally luring all of his sprawling form onto the cool sheets. “Mmhm,” he grunts, doing his best to keep close, teasing fingers inches from your skin at all times, always ready to stroke and cup each time you pause. When you hit the headboard you stop, studying his features, admiring the growing hunger that’s screaming its way out of his wide eyes.

“You ever eaten a girl out?”

The question hangs for half a second and you can see his pupils dilate, the black threatening to swallow up the sky streaked blue of his eyes. Then, right when you’re about to tease him for his gaping mouth and flushed cheeks, he’s bowling past you, splaying out against the mattress and pulling you on top of him.

“Fuck, that’s by far the best thing I’ve heard all day. Hell, all month. I’ll likely go to my grave thinking about that question. Ouch! Stop squirming, you’re kneeing me in the ribs.”

“I wouldn’t… Satoru! I can’t breathe if you hold me like that!” His arms are like cables, all tensed muscle and raw strength as he pins you against his heaving chest, lips kissing and nipping at any part of you he can reach.

“Whatever,” he grumbles, sucking a bruise into your arched collarbone. “Hurry up and take your pants off. And don’t say you can’t do it like this, you’re a grade 1 sorcerer, you can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Is that going to be part of your teaching regime?” you smart, bucking your hips up so you can unclasp and wiggle your pants down your legs.

“Oooh, you’re right, that sounds good. Damn, I gotta start writing this shit down. That way I can have a whole list of euphemisms. Can you imagine? Molding young minds and helping them to stand up to all the bullshit that those so-called elders make everyone suffer under. All those rules and regulations, the stupid ins and outs they make us all jump through–”

“Hmm,” your voice falls to a gentle hum as you snatch at his chin, stilling his chatter with a single finger against his lips. “That sounds ambitious, but why don’t we take things a little slower, give that mind of yours something else to focus on?”

“Oh?” Satoru smirks, arching an ashen eyebrow at you. “Then you better get up here, before I get distracted again.”

“Don’t you mean down?”

“Huh, down? Ah, I see where the confusion is. Nah, I want you to ride my tongue, baby, so hurry up.” His long arms help him jerk you upward, easily lifting and enticing you forward. That early impatience is peeking out once more, and he pops his head up, nostrils flaring as your uncovered cunt drifts nearer. “Ah, God, I bet you’re so fucking wet. I can smell you from here. Come on, grab onto the headboard and let me get to it.”

Your legs shake as you plant them beside his head and you do your best to steady your pounding heart, pulling a thin stream of air through your parted lips. As soon as you touch the wood of the headboard, he’s gripping your thighs so tightly you’re sure he’s going to leave bruises behind. The tip of his nose is the first thing you feel, and it’s so close to your pulsing clit that you inadvertently cant your hips forward. “Ooh, sensitive, are we?” he crows, nestling himself under you, his breath hot against your dampened folds and wet curls.

The following slick slurp of his tongue and the slow pass of his lips make your head tip back. He’s surprisingly gentle, slowly licking his way along your labia, pulling and sucking as he goes, teasing closer to that tight bud that’s waiting, just a little bit higher.

At first, you worry about crushing him, too caught up in the placement of your weight to fall into the haze his mouth is begging you to slip into. But then his lips latch onto you, careful to mouth in time with the thud of your clit, suckling and squeezing until you can’t help but grind down, earning yourself a sharp groan that reverberates against your trembling skin. Using the weight of the headboard as leverage, you roll your hips over him, shifting in time with his well-placed rhythm.

He’s good, but even the great Satoru Gojo isn’t perfect, not all the time.

When he nips at you a little too hard you shift back, depriving him of your wet heat, loving the petulant sighs and moans he gives you when you do. “Ah, sorry. Gimme a little more time,” he bargains, fingers sinking into the voluptuous curve of your ass, tying to urge you back over his glistening lips. “I’ll do better, (Y/N). Besides, I want you to cum for me. You taste so fucking good and I want it, I want all of it. Hey! Don’t be like that! I said I’d do better. Come back here.”

God, he’s such a brat.

Every time you shift away he’s got another string of exasperated pleas ready, twitching his fingers and shaking his pale head at your impudence. “Less talking,” you moan, shivering as he delves his tongue into you, feeling his grin as your cunt squeezes around his intrusion. “Ok, ok,” he growls, using his brute strength to overpower your tensed legs. “Mmm, yes baby, ah–just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

Fuck, you think as you sink your fingers into his hair, spurring him on, this feels way too good.

When he captures your clit between his teeth and tweaks the tip of his tongue against you, you can’t help but fall to pieces. Your orgasm hits you like a battering ram, seizing hold of your muscles as it rolls through you and scattering a faint spark of spots across your vision. Satoru’s arms wrap around your blindly pistoning hips, helping you to sink closer, ravenously slurping and swallowing down each wave of arousal that hits his gluttonous lips.

You’re still shaking when he pulls out from under you, flipping you bonelessly under him as his hands finally rid himself of his clearly tented and damp pants. Your eyes are just clearing when you catch sight of him, studiously following that trail of white curls to his impressive length. His cock is long, curving proudly toward his chiseled stomach and bubbling a clear string of pre-cum from the flushed tip. You do your best to sit up, but as soon as he catches sight of your movement, his broad palm is pressing you back. “Ah-ah,” he taunts, stroking a hand over his swollen cock and wiping the last of your slick from his face against his shoulder. “Keep still for me, ‘kay?’”

His wide palms spread your legs apart, and he soothes his fingertips along your skin as he tugs a few heady groans from himself. “Fuck, you look so good. You’re so goddamn pretty. When you were sitting there at the bar and you looked so fucking happy I couldn’t take my eyes off you, you just looked so nice. Haven’t even known you a week, and I’m already obsessed with hearing that laugh of yours. You put some kinda spell on me, huh? That what this is?”

“Ugh, stop talking, Satoru,” you threaten, watching the steady ebb and flow of his clenched fist. His cock looks so smooth and you’re desperate to reach for it, to take hold of velvety flesh and see how long it would take for the world’s strongest sorcerer to be putty in your hands.

He arches a pale brow at your blatant stare. “You want it?”

“I want you,” you correct, and the smile that breaks across his handsome face makes your heart squeeze.

“Awe, how can I possibly say no to that?” he asks, gleefully lining himself up with your slit. Despite his early eagerness, he’s taking his time with this part, running the bulbous head of his cock over you, gathering up some of your gossamer strands, slicking himself with your dripping arousal. “Sorry,” he amends when he makes another pass along your folds. “It’s been awhile and I want to take it all in. I don’t wanna rush this.”

“It’s fine,” you smile, lifting your hands to pass them over his stomach, watching as his muscles ripple under your delicate touch. “Just don’t take too long or you’re not going to be on top for much longer.”

“That a threat or a promise, baby?” Satoru leers, finally slipping his tip past that first, tight ring of your entrance. Despite his bravado, his lips curl over his teeth and he lets out a low hiss as he sinks into you, inch by shallow inch. The pressure of his cock makes you arch, legs automatically wrapping around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back. He bows his head and his ethereal gaze falls behind his shaking eyelids as he thrusts forward, edging himself along until he bottoms out within you. Fuck, you feel so full.

The stretch of him makes you shake and you’re grateful he’s taking his time when he stills, lips smacking distracted kisses over your heated cheeks and parted lips, giving you time to adjust to him, and he to you. After a few steadying breaths, his teeth bite at the hollow of your throat and he pulls his hips back, grinning as your hands grasp into the sheets, a sharp whine escaping you. He echoes your sentiment, letting a gasping string of curses tumble from his shaking lips as he ruts forward again, one hand gripping at your right leg, prying you from his waist and slinging the trembling limb over his shoulder.

This angle has him pressing against something wonderful and sharp, and you can’t help but gasp out his name as he starts to methodically ram into it, over and over. You can feel him swell at the sound of your pleading moans and you savor the feel of his cock throbbing against your tender walls. “More,” you shudder, fingers trying to hurry his steady hips as he diligently cants into you.

“In a minute,” he grunts, biting at your pliant skin, arms coiling under your back. “This feels too fucking good. Let me just… ah… fuck…”

He slows, moving at a pace that sets your teeth on edge, and you thrash under him. Although his cock is digging against that aching place that’s sending dots and stars across your eyes, it’s not enough pressure. Licking your lips, you worm one of your hands between the two of you and pinch and roll your fingers over your clit, easing some of the tingling bittersweetness that’s pulsing over you.

“Alright, alright, point taken,” Satoru chuckles, releasing your leg from his tight grip and re-lacing it around his hips. “How do you want it, baby? You want it fast? Or do you want it hard? Tell me.”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, peeking up at his enthralling cerulean, willingly ensnaring yourself in the intensity of his gaze. “I just want more of you.”

“Tch,” he hums, cupping a hand against your warm cheek. “Don’t say shit like that, I might end up falling for you.”

The laugh that echoes from your lips is swiftly cut off by a gasp as he abruptly ups the pace of his thrusts. He’s quick, but he’s still listening and watching for what you like. When you moan he’s right there with you, steadying his rhythm, and when you call out his name, he digs a little harder.

It’s too much. It feels raw, like you’re scratching at a cut. Like there’s some itch that you just can’t reach.

All of it, the feel of his meaty balls slapping against the sticky plushness of your ass, and those breathy moans makes your head spin. The intensity of the moment slips your fingers from your clit, but he makes up for their loss by grinding down each time he sinks into your cunt, scraping the hard edge of his pelvic bone against your throbbing bud.

He’s good. Fuck.

You can feel the hazy slope of your orgasm approaching and you blindly arch up each time he careens downward, ensuring that he’s hitting right where you need him to. His movements start to hit a lull as he slips into his own fog of lingering pleasure, dipping his head to your neck and sighing contentedly when you kiss at his temple. But the tenderness of your touch must knock him out of his own whirring thoughts and he rewards you with another set of rapid fire thrusts, his lips pulling from your neck to seek out yours, kissing and nipping until you’re gasping for air.

“Mmmm,” he moans, breath hot against your skin. “You feel so good and you’re getting so fucking tight. You gonna’ cum for me? One more time?”

You do your best to gulp out a reply, but the abrupt press of his calloused thumb against your clit makes you shake instead, a tingling rush of heady arousal racing its way up your spine. Smiling down at your awed expression, he lifts his fingers away and uncoils your legs from his waist, flinging them both over his broad shoulders, his knees settling forward as he continues to roughly thrusts his hips forward, driving you quivering body into the soft sheets.

“You like that? Does it feel good? Does it? Fuck baby, I’m begging you, give it to me one more time. Can you do that for me? Can you cum for me? I want you to cum on my dick, ah, come on (Y/N), just once more, that’s all I’m asking. You can do it, can’t you?”

He’s rasping his questions against the shell of your ear, hands cupping at the side of your face, keeping you close as he races toward his own end, voice lifting into a frantic plea as he hurtles closer, desperate to feel your satisfaction rippling around him before he completely looses himself to the aching pleasure of your body.

“I–” you choke out, arms lacing around his back, nails pressing half moons into his skin. He moans at the bite of your touch and tilts your hips upward, seeking more of you.

That change is all it takes.

The tip of his cock presses down, lifts, and then suddenly you’re seeing stars.

“I’m… yes! Oh, fuck. Satoru, just like that. Don’t… don’t stop!” For once, he doesn’t tease. He just smiles, his face flushed, pale cheeks dusted a pleased pink and repeats the motion, careful to keep everything absolutely steady. The repeated push and pull, the warmth of your cunt, the feel of your skin, it’s making his cock throb and his heart race, but he’s determined to see you break.

There. There it is. Fuck, you’re so pretty.

On an outward pull of his hips, your back arches and your thighs tense and he lets out a long growl, quickly breaking his fastidious rhythm and sinking back into you, gasping as you flutter around him. A new flush of wetness leaks out of your cunt and squelches between your pinned legs, dripping over the cleft of your ass.

He only lasts a few extra ruts, but the feel of him swelling and pulsing inside your tender pussy almost topples you over the edge again and you cling to him in the aftermath of his release, your heaving breasts catching against his flat pectorals.

With a quick peck, he slowly lowers your legs and eases himself out of you, blue eyes widening at the sight of his softening hardness leaving your leaking pussy. “I don’t know which I like better,” he contemplates, leaning back on his haunches and slicking his index finger up the pooling dribble you’ve both left behind, spreading the spidery traces across his hand. “You wet and dripping for me or filled to the brim with my cum.” His lewd comment makes you huff out a low groan of exasperation and you roll off of the bed, shaking your head as you steady yourself and walk toward the bathroom.

After a brisk rinse in the shower, you pad back into the darkened room, fully expecting to see an empty bed. You’re not sure why that’s your first thought, but something about Satoru doesn’t scream: I’m the kind of guy who likes post coitus cuddles. So the sight of him, bundled under your sheets, white hair poking just above the edge of the blankets, is a surprise.

“Oh,” you pause, dropping your towel on the floor as you openly gape at him. “You’re still here… I, well, I figured you’d take off.”

“Huh?” Satoru croaks, popping his head up, his face comically askew. “What kinda guy do you think I am?”

“Apparently the kind that stays over,” you snicker, digging around for your discarded bra and panties.

He lets out a mock gasp, popping a hand against his cheek. “How could you say that! And after I gallantly brought you back here?”

“And fucked me,” you remind him, slipping your lacy underwear back on and re-adjusting the clasp of your bra.

“That too!” he qualifies, arching a pale eyebrow at your impassive face. “I’d say I was pretty generous. You did cum twice after all.”

“Oh my God,” you sigh, crossing your arms across your chest and perching beside the edge of the bed, shaking your head at the sprawling man under your covers.

“Come on, you wouldn’t seriously make me walk all the way back to the school at this hour. What if something happens to me? How could you live with yourself, knowing you kicked me out into the cold?”

“It’s summer,” you point out, rolling your eyes. “And you’re… what six foot three… and you have the legendary six eyes… I mean, I think you’ll be ok.”

“(Y/N),” Satoru begins, narrowing those bright blue eyes at you.

“Yeah?”

“Is it your habit to sleep with helpless guys and then kick them out? You’re so cruel.”

“Stop it,” you warn, snatching at the sheets and yanking them off of his naked form.

“No!” he protests, fingers clutching vainly at the thin cover. “Your bed is so nice! Come on, I’ll be good and I don’t snore. Well, not that I know of anyway…”

“Ugh, fine. I don’t have the energy for this and we have to be up in four hours. Just shush and scoot over.”

“Oh? Do you not have the energy because I fucked it out of you?”

“I’m sorry, were you wanting to stay the night?”

“Alright, alright,” he splays his hands up in supplication and makes room for you, watching closely as you curl up beside him, a smile playing over his lips. “Hey,” he asks once you’ve closed your eyes, leaning close to your reposed form.

“What?” you groan, cracking an eye open.

“Can I be the little spoon?”

“Satoru…”

“Mmhm?”

“Shut up.”

notes: hehe. i feel like he’d be so freaking chatty in bed. plus, how could i not make him a little touched starved? stop making me like characters that just wanna be held universe, gosh :3c

#jjk friday #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #reader insert #jjk imagines

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mystic-sky · 3 years

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A/N: here’s Part 2/4💘 I told y’all I’m gonna finish this and I will. this short series is NSFW. Enjoy 😭❤️

✨part 1 here✨ | ✨parts 3 & 4 on ao3 only✨

Some would say this was entirely unnecessary, perhaps even a little too casual for work. But you know when you have one of those really good friends you’d do anything for? The kind you’d spend money on without a second thought? That’s how you felt about Suguru. You could call him whenever you wanted and he’d come fix up your car for you, help you lift things, or just lend you his ear. He was an extremely good listener, and he was always there for you. It was hard to believe such a sweet guy could be friends with Satoru. It was also hard to believe how you could ever favor Satoru more.

You were incredibly excited to give Suguru all the things you had gotten him over the weekend. Then, like a raining brick shower, did you remember that he came to your work place, with Satoru, and you anonymously gave him a lap dance. And now, you have to talk to both of them like you weren’t shaking your ass in their faces the night before. Tough.

You questioned all your life decisions as you anxiously dialed Shoko. You told her it was urgent and that you needed help with the gift bags, as well as time for girl talk and morning coffee before work.

When she arrived you graciously hugged her, whining and crying her name as you reached over the arm rest.

“You didn’t tell anyone where I worked at, right?” You say, tear stricken and panicked as you peer at her through wet eyes. She shot you an almost betrayed look. When did you start thinking she could be that menacing?

“No- are you crying? Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” She pushed you away, staring worriedly with baggy under eyes.

“Suguru and Satoru showed up to my other job last night.” You shrieked, leaning against the wheel of your car and burrowing your head in your arms.

“I did have a blindfold on but I don’t know if they knew it was me.” You say, muffling your embarrassment.

Shoko could’ve laughed a bit, picking up her iced coffee.

“You always did talk about giving Satoru the dance of his life to put his pitiful attitude in check.” She said, unpackaging the straw and stabbing the lid.

“Shoko!”

“What? Your words not mine.” She said smugly.

“I mean that’s how I felt but then he actually showed up! And then he gave my co worker his number to give to me! He definitely knows it’s me!”

“Why would he give it to you again on a piece of paper if he knew it was you?” Shoko quizzed.

“To fuck with me, obviously.” You mutter, sinking into the drivers seat. “That’s Satoru shit.”

She swished her coffee around, further mixing her creamer. “That does sound like Satoru behavior.”

“Shoko!” You whined again. “How the heck am I supposed to face him? Not to mention, I got Suguru all this stuff and I was so excited to give it to him. You think he knows too? And what if he didn’t know but Satoru told him? Ugh- my head hurts.” You say, taking up your coffee and plunging the lid with your own straw.

“How good was your blindfold?” She raises a brow at you.

“I looked like Harley Quinn’s knock off stripper sister.” Shoko let a laugh, earning a grunt from you.

“Okay okay, so they probably don’t know. But I would just suck it up and act like you don’t know anything either. Like an ‘I know that you know that I know’ kinda situation? But you’re not gonna do anything about it- kinda thing.”

“And you could always switch jobs if you’re that mortified. Poor Suguru, and his gifts though. It seems like Satoru ruins everything for him.” She sighed.

Shoko had a way of pretending like things weren’t as bad as they were, and though sometimes it bothered you, talking to her helped you relax.

“I forgot to mention I gave Suguru a dance.” You sink more into your chair, covering your face.

“Oh then they definitely know.” She teased.

“Shoko!!!” You whined again.

“I’m kidding! There’s no guarantee that they know or don’t know.” Shoko said, placing her coffee down. “I would fake it until you can’t.”

You wanted to crawl in a hole. Couldn’t you just live a peaceful life?

“I have to move away and change my name, it’s the only way.” You cried.

“Let me help you get the bags,” Shoko said, stepping out the car and ignoring you entirely.

“I was only messing with you, they don’t know a thing. I overheard the two of them inside talking about how nice the place was. They didn’t mention anything in particular while I was clocking in.”

You panicked anyway. Why would they?

“Now up and out, you can’t hide in your car forever.”

You sluggishly climbed out the vehicle and opened your trunk.

“If it makes you feel better I’ll ask them about it for you.” Shoko helped you gather Suguru’s gifts and you went inside.

Just relax, (Name). Be cool, be cool.

You were dazed, deep in thought as you and Shoko walked through the halls. You never regretted giving anyone a lap dance during your entire dancing career. You honestly don’t know what came over you. All you wanted was to make Satoru’s mouth water. It’s not like you didn’t already have his attention with his constant flirting at work but still, why did you have to be so gutsy?

You set the gifts down on your desk, before slumping into your office chair.

“Good morning!” You heard the white haired devil chirp through the door way, knocking ever so lightly on the already opened door. Suguru trailed in quietly behind him, greeting you and Shoko.

“Morning!” Suguru hummed, taking a delicate sip from his coffee.

You shyly waved, before Shoko spoke. “How was your night out?”

Breaking the ice for us all Shoko, I thank the heavens and earth for your existence.

“It was great! Wish you guys could’ve been there. Fanciest club I’ve ever been to, like ever.” Satoru spoke, shoving his hands in his pocket.

“It was cool. I still would’ve rather went to dinner with everyone.” Suguru shrugged, setting his coffee on his desk. You watched Satoru approach your table, quickly changing the subject of conversation.

“What’s all this?” He quizzed, looking down at your sheepish body in your chair. Did they really not know? Or were they possibly pretending not to?

“T-These are gifts, for Suguru,” you stand, feeling a bit more confident. The dark haired male perked up at you, before walking towards your desk.

“I told you not to get me anything,” he sighed. You could see the soft smile edging on his lips as he looked down at you. “And then you spoil me like this? People are gonna think we’re dating, you know?”

You swore you heard Satoru scoff.

“Hush, I told you it’s not a big deal. Besides, you’re always helping me out without asking. You deserve to be spoiled!” You say firmly, hands on your hips. He blushed a bit, realizing he wouldn’t be able to argue with you if he tried.

“You never spoil me this much on my birthday,” Satoru pouted, quickly inserting himself between the two of you, both verbally and physically.

“You’ve got to make your mark on people Satoru,” Shoko said, taking a seat behind her desk.

“I spoil all my friends as needed.” You say, crossing your arms proudly. “If you were a little nicer, maybe I wouldn’t think twice about buying you a bunch of nice things. Besides, your mistresses spoil you plenty.”

“Mistresses? What mistresses? (Name) it hurts my feelings when you talk like that.” Satoru put a hand on his chest, pretending to be offended.

“You have feelings?” Everyone but Satoru said this in unison, resulting the room to fill with heavy laughter.

“Oooo so funny.” He said sarcastically, keeping the straightest face.

“If you’re good to me for the rest of the year I’ll get you something nice.” You say, soothing the wound you all gave him.

“But it’s not your birthday right now, is it?” You say, flipping your hair and shifting behind Suguru. You gave him a little push.

“Go head, open them!” You say excitedly. Suguru lets out a soft laugh, before digging into his bounty.

After watching him open his gifts while Satoru graciously recorded the entire moment for his Instagram, the white haired fiend sparked up an idea.

“So, since Suguru kept saying he wanted to do something with everyone I thought we could take a getaway trip this weekend to my folk’s place in the country side.”

“Just us 4?” Shoko asked. “And are you sure we won’t be bothering your parents?”

“Oh no, this is their vacation house. They only go on the holidays. Also, Nanami is definitely coming!” Satoru cooed.

“That sounds like so much fun!” Shoko swooned.

“I haven’t seen Nanami in so long. This should be exciting.” You clasp your hands together delightedly.

“Why do I get the feeling you didn’t actually ask Nanami if he wanted to come yet...” Geto squinted at Satoru, who smiled childishly.

“Nanami loves me. He is coming by default.” He says proudly. “Speaking of, I have to go meet with him tomorrow to take care of some business. So unfortunately, I won’t be able to train with Megumi. (Name) do you think you could pick him up from school for me tomorrow?”

“The middle schooler you’ve been teaching? Why do I have to do it?” You ask, swaying your hips as you look at him.

“Because~” he sung.

“Because...?”

“He’s been talking about meeting you!” He gleamed.

“Has he really? Are you talking about me behind my back or something? How does the kid even know who I am?”

“Of course! I’ve told him plenty stories about the all powerful (Name)! The mightiest jujutsu sorceress to date.” He was clearly just trying to flatter you.

“Fine, I’ll pick up the kid.” You roll your eyes.

“Yay~” He says, casually hugging you. He always did that, not that you actually minded. And you knew he knew it got to you every time, hearing him smirk as you push him off. You force back a blush as Suguru speaks.

“That didn’t take much convincing,” he smirks with him a bit.

“I just wanted him to stop talking.” You say, grabbing your purse. You could hear Shoko attempting to stifle a laugh behind you.

“Anyways, I’ll see you guys later. I have a class to teach.” You waved goodbye, on your way to cater to the class of second years you were currently responsible for.

You were finally able to relax, feeling like your dancer identity was safe. Now, all you have to do is forget the lap dance and pray to whatever God there is that neither of them would come back. You proceeded to take out your phone and text your club manager, asking for the weekend off. You were lucky she was so lenient.

The work day lasted longer than you’d liked to, and you hadn’t stayed behind to chat with anyone. Shoko knew you were always keen on going home to shower and relax a bit before your shift at the club.

You were in the club locker room, just barely after 10pm. You wanted to ask Tasty for juicy details on Suguru. You were eager to know if he had texted her or had talked of coming back. Fortunately for you at the same time, she was off today. To you, this decreased the likelihood of seeing the dark haired male and his devilish best friend. That is, if he truly liked her enough to come back.

You were wearing a more revealing set this evening- a suede, pink two piece. You made sure your heel straps were tight enough around your ankles before walking out onto the floor to do your first 10 minute set of the evening. You spun on the pole, climbing gracefully. The higher you went, the more dollars being thrown. You slid down the pole, connecting your body to the floor with a split. You crawled lionlike towards the edge the stage, greeting some of your regulars who sat towards the front. Flipping your body, you get up smoothly ending the routine and collecting your bounty.

As you walked down the stage and made your way towards the bar, you could see the silhouette of a tall, white haired male, speaking to the bartender. His body was turned away from you, and he was ordering a drink as if he just got there.

You knew it was him. You could recognize his cocky stance just about anywhere. You dropped to the floor, crawling away and earning stares from plenty of your coworkers and customers alike. Oh I’m definitely quitting, you thought.

You managed to crawl back towards the locker room.

“This cannot become a routine,” you clutched your chest. It felt like you were having another mini heart attack like the night before. Did he just decide this was his new favorite spot? You could’ve sworn you were in the clear. And two days in a row?

He knows, he has to. Should you confront him? Twice was too many times. You almost can picture his smug face out there right now. You’re a bit angry that he had the nerve to come back again, but a portion of you, the little devil inside you- wanted him to watch you dance again.

Then you remembered Shoko’s words. Fake it until you can’t anymore.

If he wanted to play, then you’d give him exactly what he wanted. You opened your locker, fiddling around through your costumes and head coverings. You took hold of the a pink masquerade mask you had left over from a theme night at the club a few weeks ago.

“This should do.” You say, sliding on the seductive looking mask and fixing your hair in the the mirror. You struck a pose, before flipping your hair in satisfaction and strutting out of the room. You walked past a few regulars, and made yourself comfortable by the bar area. You decided you’d dance around everyone but him.

Satoru took note of your scent first, realizing your feminine force was behind him. He sipped his drink before spinning in his barstool to look at you dancing amongst the other customers. He adjusted his sunglasses, taking in the sight of you.

The set you wore was more revealing than the one from yesterday. He felt like he truly missed out the night before as he watched you drag your hand down the chest of a stranger, feeling a bit envious. His length felt tight in his jeans yet again. But he was a smooth guy, he knew exactly how to make you come to him.

You noticed him get up from the bar, walking away from where you danced. You couldn’t help but get distracted and anxious. You didn’t want Satoru anywhere you couldn’t see him. You almost jumped when your club’s bouncer, Ravi, approached you in the middle of your mini lap dance.

“Candy, the tall guy,” he tried not to point, “the white haired one with dark glasses wants a private dance.” Satoru approached the bouncer earlier when he first came in, pre-requesting a dance from you and tipping him a hefty amount for it. Though he’d explained he’d be fine if you declined it, he truly just wanted to see just how far he could get.

You stared at the thick wad of cash that stuck out of the pocket of Ravi’s dress shirt. You knew Satoru had the guts to ask you directly, but it was more so that he was that much of an asshole, who simply wanted you to approach him on your own.

Ravi then pointed loosely with his chin at Satoru, who had been sitting on the sofa on the other side of the club now.

You nodded, assuring Ravi you weren’t going to keep him waiting. You walked slowly towards him, he barely made eye contact with you.

Fake it until you can’t.

“Hey handsome,” you lean over the railing, displaying your breasts right beside him. He perked up a bit, though he briefly watched you walk towards him beforehand. He sparks a grin, and you can see blue orbs peering ever so slightly over the edges of his glasses.

“Hey,” he confidently sits back, not even shy about looking at your breasts.

“Have you been here before?” A classic conversation starter, but were you were attempting to poke fun at the awkward situation.

“Ahh, yes! Ms. Number One, from the private dancer line up. I was here yesterday with my friend.” He took a sip from his glass. “But I don’t expect you to remember. You’re a very busy, and talented woman.”

You bite back a blush, “Thank you.”

“A little birdie told me you wanted a private dance,” you maneuvered around the railing but still leaned against it.

“Oh yeah,” he preferred not to waste time. He pulled a thick and wrapped stack of cash from his shirt and placed it on the table in front of you. You tried your best to keep your eyes from widening. The currency strap read $5000.

“A private dance in the private booth costs a hundred.” You felt inclined to remind him as the both the stack and him stared back at you. “And if you wanted the highest package it’s $500 with champagne and refreshments included for the hour, typically for a group.”

“It says that on your website,” he nods, clearly already knowing the information. You almost squint at him before he speaks again.

“Also, I figured I’d pay you enough to go home for the night if you felt like it.” He shrugged. The Gojo family clearly had it well for him to just toss five thousand dollars at a stranger. You shivered when you remembered counting your earnings from the night before, two thirds of the pile being from Satoru.

A part of you felt like ripping your mask off and asking him to go home. Your awkward silence made him stifle a laugh.

“Candy, baby girl, is somethin’ wrong?”

You knew he knew you were blushing, even with your mask. But you promised yourself one thing after leaving the locker room- you would bring him to his knees. And if he wanted to play, you’d be sure to win.

“Alright hot stuff, come with me.” You used a finger to slide the stack towards you before picking it up.

He grinned at you before you brought him to one of the private rooms. Everything was preset up considering Ravi saw you warming him up prior.

Satoru made himself comfortable in the soft velvet cushions and red lighting. You sat beside him, taking hold of one of the champagne bottles from the ice bucket. You popped it open, causing some of the foam to splatter onto your breasts and stomach.

“Whoops,” you said playfully. You always liked to tease with the exclusive dances. He bites his lip while he watches you fill both of your glasses, taking up one soon after.

“Do you guys have candy here?”

“Only mints by the bar. Did you want something sweet?” That’s so like him, you thought.

“Nah, mints don’t count.” He shook his head. “Chocolate anything?”

“We have chocolate-covered strawberries,” you suggest.

“That’ll do,” he clutches one of the heart shaped pillows, flashing smile.

You rung the bell on the wall, speaking into the microphone beside it to make the request before plopping beside him.

“You’ve got me for the hour,” you leant towards him, crossing your legs. “So let’s make it count.”

“I was hoping we could talk for a bit first,” he said, swishing the liquid in his glass. You almost panicked, but quickly spoke up.

“Sure, whatever you want.” You lean your arm on edge of the couch. It wasn’t uncommon for guys to request dances from you just for you to listen to their qualms for the hour. Although, you never pictured Satoru as the type to do so. Actually scratch that— you settled into the sofa, preparing to hear him ramble on about himself. You made sure to keep eye contact with him, making it known you were indeed listening.

“I got a thing for this girl— she’s amazing. She hates me though. Granted, I’ve been an asshole since high school. I think she’s into my best friend, although he promises me it’s nothing like that.”

“Have you tried flirting with her?” Satoru was infamous for being a casual, serial dater. You wondered who she could be. Just because you were in his inner circle didn’t necessarily mean this girl was you or anyone you might’ve known. But you couldn’t help but put yourself into perspective anyway.

“Yeah, but she’s pretty mean though.” He grinned, “To me.”

“And that makes you happy?” You questioned.

“I mean, obviously it doesn’t.” He clarified, realizing just how crazy he looked in that moment. “Oddly enough, I’d like to think she likes me back a bit.”

“Sounds kiddish right?” He chuckles. “Like is she a middle schooler or something? She’s been playing hard to get for a while now.”

You twitch your eye a bit, was he really that full of himself?

“She probably doesn’t like you. You shouldn’t try to read between the lines. Have you ever asked her directly if she does?” You reason, trying to humble him a bit.

“Nah, I guess I’m just afraid to ask her the right way.” He cocked his head back, earning a confused look from you. You never knew Satoru could be afraid of anything. He was seemingly a fearless person and he was the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer to date.

“Could you elaborate?” You poked.

“She’s the only woman whose ever rejected me. Can you believe that?”

You’re partially amused, these truly were the thoughts in his head— you were sure of it.

“What I mean mostly is that I think she’s an idiot,” he chuckled. You almost broke into laughter.

“For rejecting you?”

“No, no, no— well, maybe. I think she’s incredibly dense. I’ve known her for like 10 years. That or she just tunes out my advances.” He scoffs.

“Everyone else knows it’s obvious I still like her. I think the reason why I’m never direct with my feelings, or the reason I boil it down to casual flirting is because I’m scared of her rejecting me again.”

“The first time was when we were both seniors in high school. She told me to try again after I learned some ‘compassion’. It feels like she’s somewhat interested in me. And I hardly think I need to learn anything— but it’s been years since she said that.” He adds.

He hadn’t looked at you the entire time, sort of ogling at his drink before setting it down.

He was unraveling in front of you, as a complete stranger.

“You get this a lot— the sappy talks, right?”

You nodded, “It’s no big deal.”

“I promise I’m not like this all the time.”

A clearer look inside Satoru’s mind was interesting, to say the least. You don’t think he acted this way on purpose. Perhaps, nothing has pushed him into such a corner for him to begin actively taking people’s feelings into account the way the average person might.

He huffed. “What would you do?”

You pondered for a bit, what would you do? You weren’t sure who the mystery woman he described was but you felt a little jealous, trying to wrap your head around the idea of him being this smitten over someone. He had given you a taste of himself, something he dared not to show you when you weren’t wearing the mask.

“Be direct next time you approach her. Stop playing around so much and tell her how you really feel. Nothing too grand, and try your best to understand her if she rejects you again. You’re a handsome guy, so it won’t be the end of the world if she does.” You explain.

“I don’t mean to sound insensitive by saying that last part either.” You added. Though his head was cocked back, his gaze shifted towards you. He hardly looked worried or sad at all. He shot you a toothy smirk, making you squirm in your seat a bit.

“I know that,” he finally says. There he was again, being his typical arrogant self. “If it doesn’t work out, you’ll see me back here again.”

Dear God, Satoru becoming one of your regulars? You didn’t know if you could handle that. You could just work in a different club. Lord, let this mystery woman scoop him up, and make your life easier.

The thought of him coming regularly just to see you made you happy sort of, but you found yourself getting jealous for the days you wouldn’t work. Suddenly, you didn’t want anyone else dancing for him. It had to be you.

“Woah, you okay?” He tilted his head towards you. You held your cheeks in your hand. If you were a kettle, you’d physically be steaming.

“You’ve got a cute side, Ms. Candy. That’s precious.” He leant forward, glasses sliding down his nose a bit. No matter how long you’ve known him, he would still give you butterflies just like when you were younger.

The server entered the room, placing the strawberries that he ordered onto the table. You watched him take off his shades and hang them on his shirt.

“Fuck yes,” he grinned, picking up one of the chocolate covered fruits. You watched him take a bite, tugging on your own bottom lip. He slid his tongue between two fingers, blue orbs just barely glinting at you. He hummed in delight as you awed at him. Really, everything about him was perfect aside from his flawed personality. You would’ve been dating him already if you felt he’d be a good boyfriend. He was obviously and unfairly attractive. You were positive the sex would be good too, considering you heard more than satisfactory things. He was tall, and wealthy, and strong and talented. He was just a shitty person sometimes.

Somehow you liked him all this time, he’s been the only man whose kept your interest. That’s partially because he was persistent, in the most attractive and appealing way. But you’re adults now, maybe you should stop playing around so much.

Did you even have time to change your mind with this mystery girl in the way?

“I think I’m ready for my dance now,” he said smugly, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Of course baby. Just sit back and relax.” You had to remind yourself, you’re Candy right now, and not (Name).

He sunk back into the sofa, spreading his legs as you got up and positioned yourself in front of him. He spreads his long arms on the head of the sofa, slight smile leaking at the corners of his lips.

You swayed your body, giving him a show. It was finally happening. You were giving him the very thing you fantasized about since you started dancing. You climbed onto his lap, grinding against him as the music played in tandem with your hips. He seemed elated, and not even remotely ashamed of the growing bulge in his jeans. You were feeling antsy, watching him with his arms sprawled out like that.

“I don’t normally let people touch me during my dances, but you can if you want.” You weren’t supposed to sound so shy when you said it.

“You’re being extremely generous, I’ll tip you again, for sure baby.”

You felt his large, hot hands connect with your back, running down the smooth skin. You smiled smugly, looking down at him. You grinded against him some more, feeling his bulge confidently poke against your sex.

All you ever wanted was for him to touch you like this. You were mad at yourself for holding out this long— why did his hands feel so good against your bare skin?

Possibly just because you liked him, and that amplified the experience.

Lost in the moment, you felt your hands run through the smooth fade of his undercut while you humped his lap. The amount of stimulation this gave the both of you was astounding. You heard a soft groan leave his lips, rising color out of your cheeks.

You brought a finger to the string of your outfits top, pulling it undone and gracing him with the sight of your breasts as you tossed the fabric on the sofa. He was sort of surprised, but his facial expression was nothing short of cocky. It wasn’t the first time a stranger stripped top-less for him, and coincidentally, making panties drop was his hobby.

“Oh~?”

His voice was terrifically deep, you never knew he could drop an octave this low. You’d usually be talking up a storm, doting on your customers with compliments and saying appropriately reassuring things. The entire experience was weird, having your childhood crush grope you and nuzzle his face into your breasts hadn’t been on your to do list for the evening.

He hummed against the skin in the center of your chest, sending vibrations up your spine.

“I know I’m pushing it, considering this is nothing but a service agreement, but I’d be happy to make you feel good— if you want me to, that is.”

You looked down at him, knowing the mask you wore couldn’t save you from him noticing the blushing look on your face.

“Just what do you take me for?” You’re being playful about it, wrapping your arms around his neck so he knows you’re not offended.

“A hard working woman. I envy the man who gets to spoil you.”

You couldn’t think of a response, and you assumed he caught on due to the way your lips parted and no sound emerged.

“Ohh-hoh??? There isn’t one, is there?”

He stole the show from you, and now you’re sitting in his lap like some sort of blushing sheep.

“That makes me feel sort of special,” he purred, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. You let out a dainty moan, grinding harder against him. You were no longer grinding along with the music, just finding a rhythm that would satisfy the both of you. He grunted at your sudden change in pace, his searing hot breath against your skin.

“Is that a yes?” He asked, nipple between his teeth.

“What about the girl you like?” You found yourself regretting even saying that, considering you were supposed to be a neutral party.

“You jealous?”

You suck in your bottom lip, barely forming a pout. He truly was an asshole to everyone. It didn’t even matter if someone was on top of him. Before you’re able to say anything, he speaks again.

“Don’t be.” He pressed a sweet kiss to the center of your chest, heightening the crimson hues on your cheeks. His soft lips unfortunately tore from your body when his phone rang. He slipped the thing from his jacket pocket, answering the call.

“Alright, I’ll be there in 30.” He said finally after following subsequent huffs. He ended the call, looking back up at you with apologetic eyes.

“I’ve gotta cut this short,” he was pained to say it. He was having too much fun.

“That’s alright.” You say, sliding your leg off him and finding your top.

He stood, straightening his clothes whilst muttering what you barely made out as ‘fuckin’ Nanami’ through his teeth. You almost laughed, as you tied your top back on.

“Candy, baby, I’m sorry. Guess I’ll have to come back again.” He looked too happy to say it.

“Before your confession?” You say smugly. “Or after?”

“No no, I’m a man of my word. I’ll come back only under those conditions I mentioned.” He says.

“I wish you the best of luck.” You say, crossing your legs.

“You’re rooting for me? You really don’t wanna see me again.” He chuckled as he towered over you, his blue gaze now covered by his glasses again.

“I’m always rooting for my customers.” You smile slyly.

His grin softened, and you wish you knew why he was looking at you like that.

“See you around, Ms. Candy.”

He waved goodbye as he exited the room, finally allowing you a some relief. Hopefully this chick doesn’t reject him, you thought.

Even though he probably wouldn’t come back, you thought about quitting and working elsewhere anyway. You tore off your mask, pushing your hair back out of your face.

You really didn’t want to have to wear one of these again.

#gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk fanfic #Jujutsu Kaisen #jjk gojo #lil bit if suguru in here #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru #getou fluff #jjk x reader

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lepusrufus · 3 years

Text

Double edged scalpel ch.6

ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5

Summary: It's backstory time!

Mandatory warning since this is not a usual thing on my blog so I think a separate warning would be useful, there will be talk of past abuse and alcohol abuse.

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"Wakey wakey," came the gruff voice from just outside her bedroom door.

It was slightly muffled but more than enough to make her jolt awake, muscle memory taking over the remnants of sleep. She only had one minute to be out the door. It was more than enough though, her routine perfected over years. Get out of bed. Put socks on. Get shoes. Grab the duffel bag. She slept dressed anyways, ready to go at any time.

Or not?

Where were her clothes?

Nevermind that she had time to put something on. Just grab a shirt and pants from the dresser.

Hurried steps took her over the plush carpet. Wasn't it supposed to be a solid grey? Had her mother swapped it for one of their fancier rugs?

That didn't matter right now. Clothes. She needed clothes. When she got to her dresser she stood there, frowning at the bookshelf that now took its place. She didn't even remember acquiring the tomes in front of her, most of them old and with unfamiliar trinkets surrounding them. That's not how her bedroom was arranged. Why wasn't anything in its place? Was Alex playing a prank on her? No, he wouldn't do that.

Time was almost up and she needed some goddamn clothes and to get out and her head was starting to spin-

"Nicole?"

Her eyes snapped back to the bed she had so hastily vacated, Cassandra looking at her concerned.

From the room's entrance came another familiar voice. Bela. "I only wanted to let you know that Daniela wants to go for a hunt tomorrow." Her eyes were averted and as soon as the words left her lips, she turned and shut the door behind her, not waiting for an answer from her sister.

Confusion mixed in with dizziness, but Nicole let out a quiet oh when she fully realized where she was. Cassandra's bedroom. They came here last night and fell asleep. And she was only wearing underwear.

She went to sit on the edge of the bed, head resting in her hands to try alleviate the fog in her brain. She probably looked like hell, but that was the least of her concerns right now.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Came the uncharacteristically soft voice of Cassandra, who had moved from her spot under the blankets and was gently rubbing her back.

"Uh, nothing," Nicole replied, as if she didn't look ready to puke.

Cassandra only pursed her lips and frowned. "You looked like you simultaneously saw a ghost and were ready to fight a ghost."

She swallowed thickly and forced out a laugh. "Oh are we at "tragic backstory" relationship level now?" It was at best a pathetic attempt to change the subject and at worst annoying.

When she looked back at the brunette she was still frowning, but not in annoyance. Her golden eyes sparked with concern, scrutinizing the redhead's face and body language for any clue as to what was wrong. It sent a pang of guilt through Nicole's chest. She took a deep breath and leaned back into Cassandra's touch, trying to collect her thoughts. Where does one even begin to explain this whole mess?

"Have you ever wondered why I came here? To the village?"

"...Not really," she admitted.

Nicole took another deep breath, pulling the words from her mouth as if she were pulling out teeth with pliers.

"My dad, he…he had a bit of a weird business. We never knew the details of it, he never told any of us and we knew better than to snoop, but I do know it had something to do with drugs and was highly illegal."

Staying in one place proved itself a pesky little task, so Nicole stood up and started to collect her clothes from the floor and started dressing. Cassandra instead remained in the same spot, listening intently.

"With a job like that you make enemies by default. And that made him paranoid beyond belief. When me and Alex, my older brother, were children it wasn't that bad. Worst thing he would do was lock our bedroom doors and refuse to let us attend public school."

She narrowed her eyes at a wall, still not wanting to meet Cassandra's gaze. Now that she said it out loud, not that bad sounded pretty bad too. Whatever.

"It started going downhill when I was around…" She pursed her lips, trying to make her brain put together some semblance of a timeline. "Twelve. Yeah twelve. He came bursting into our bedrooms at 2 a.m. saying that someone with a gun had gotten into our house and wanted to kill us. We were mortified. I remember my mom holding me and Alex in the backseat crying while my dad drove us to his secluded cabin in the woods."

"And that became a habit of his. He'd have us do these drills every once in a while and then scream at us if we didn't do everything in under a minute."

"That's so fucking stupid," Cassandra spat, golden eyes gleaming with anger.

Nicole started pacing back and forth, desperate for a distraction. "Oh I know. And after a few years of this I made sure to tell him exactly how much I thought it was bullshit."

Finally coming to terms with the lack of something to do while she talked, Nicole gave up and went back to the bed. She sat down by Cassandra's side, though still avoiding her eyes.

"Do you know what getting punched in the face feels like?"

Cassandra's expression contorted into a disgusted grimace. With the hand not on Nicole's back rubbing comforting circles, she dug talons into the soft fabric of a blanket. She didn't really have an answer because frankly she didn't know. Her body reacted very differently to physical harm and the few that could hurt her wouldn't go for a stupid punch to the face. Nicole kept on talking though, not really looking for an answer.

"That shut me up for a bit. Key word a bit. When he woke me up on the night before an important test I was pissed. I just thought fuck it and went upstairs to the library. It took him around twenty minutes to find me and when he did… Well, I regretted some life choices."

"I was so done with being there in that house. Though thankfully my parents went on a business trip the next day and Alex was at a friend's for the weekend. I had the whole house to myself and decided to grab one of my mom's vintage wines and just spend the evening on the couch drinking. And that's how I became an alcoholic at the ripe old age of fifteen." She let out a humorless chuckle at the end.

That day was a blur in her mind. The only thing that she vividly remembered was Alex coming home early and finding her blackout drunk on the couch. At the end of the day though, they were both in the same boat. He just grabbed the bottle from her and started to sip away at the remaining wine. Laughing at each other's hangover the next day was the most fun they'd had in ages so it became a habit for the both of them. Every once in a while they'd go into the wine cellar, pick out a bottle and then go drink it in the attic while they pretended their problems didn't exist. It continued well into their college years. Nicole was barely able to recall doing anything during her years in med school that wasn't being drunk or studying.

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. That's not where she meant to go with the story. Cassandra placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder brought her enough comfort to try and wrap it up.

"I guess in a sick ironic way my dad was right in the end though," she subconsciously shifted closer to the brunette and she wasted no time in loosely wrapping her arms around Nicole's waist.

"I was three weeks away from completing my residency when I came home from the lab, only to find my mom in a puddle of blood on the living room floor. My brother was in a similar state in his bedroom. My dad was nowhere to be found but I didn't care. It was his fault," she swallowed the lump in her throat and felt tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"I just grabbed my documents and a duffle bag with some clothes and ran. Booked the first flight to Romania to come stay at my grandparents'. Oh except they know what my dad is all about! Told me I had an hour to get some rest and be out of their house as they didn't want any trouble with my dad's people."

"I did grab a fuck ton of my dad's cash though so at least hotels weren't an issue," her words were coming out chocked, occasionally interrupted by sniffles. She rapidly whipped a hand across her face. "Have you ever been to Braşov? Old part of the city is quite lovely."

Cassandra grimaced. She didn't want to interrupt, but seeing Nicole in such a state made something in her unbeating heart ache. She gently wiped the trail of tears from her cheeks and placed a kiss on her temple from where she was sitting half behind Nicole. Then, with the softest voice she could muster, "And how did you meet Duke?"

Nicole's eyes widened slightly, apparently having forgotten that detail.

"Oh I stumbled upon his shop one day. I thought he was selling some neat stuff and he was nice so I kept coming back. One thing led to another and when I found out about a place off the map where no one gets in or out without help I thought it would be the perfect place to hide from the people trying to put a bullet through my head." Then she winced slightly. "I was also mildly tipsy when I made that decision."

Cassandra looked a little incredulous. "And he just brought you here?"

"I paid him."

Cassandra's expression turned to what could only be described as disappointed but not surprised. Then her attention went back on the redhead, glossy eyes fixated on the floor. To say she sucked at comforting others was an understatement. Daniela was far more well versed in the art of making others not feel miserable but she was nothing if not stubborn enough to try.

"Listen," she shifted to sit in front of her, hand placed gently on a wet cheek. "If anyone ever dares come near you with the intention of harming you, I'll make them regret every life choice that led them there. You're safe here." She may not be great with her words, but if Cassandra excelled in anything, it was keeping her loved ones safe. Loved one huh.

Nicole leaned into her touch, finally meeting Cassandra's eyes. There was a gentle kind of determination in her golden gaze, accompanied by a fiery rage that, for once in her life, brought comfort as opposed to terror. It came with the knowledge that it wasn't directed at her but at whoever may want to harm her.

She didn't doubt her words. Instead she shifted closer, face nuzzled in the crook of Cassandra's neck and, barely above a whisper, said: "Thank you."

#unhinged maiden™ my beloved #cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #dimitrescu daughters #resident evil village #fanfic #double edged scalpel

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 3 years

Text

Going back home {Chapter 2}

Summary: Claire never thought she would be back in the town she grew up in. But after her fiancé broke off their engagement, leaving her 5 months pregnant and alone she found herself calling Frankie Morales in the middle of the night, one of her childhood friends who insisted that she booked the next flight out. Trying to fix her life with a little help from her friends she would find out soon that going back would be the best decision she ever made.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Claire Beck

wordcount: 2k

Warnings: pregnancy hormones, pining

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Series Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

“You know your childhood home is for sale?” Claire sat on the patio next to Pope who had decided to catch up with her.

“Seriously?” she asked and he nodded.

“Yeah. It looks bad though.”

“Like every house in this area that’s currently on sale,” she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah there are not many people moving down here, though there seem to be getting more in the last few years.”

“I mean it’s beautiful here,” she let her eyes wander over the landscape. She had always loved it here. Whole summers were spent on the Morales ranch when she was younger. Could have to do with the fact that Pa’ Morales made the best BBQ ever.

“Yeah it is. Better for your girl to grow up here, than in the big city huh?” he asked. She looked at Pope. He had gotten older. The lines around his eyes deeper than before. He always loved to laugh.

“Yeah. Though I didn’t picture it like that. I…” she sighed, feeling silly for the tears in her eyes. Fucking hormones.

“Hey. It’s okay. You gonna be fine,” his hand came down on her knee, squeezing it in comfort.

“Yeah you all keep saying that but it’s not you who has to push a baby out of your vagina without the father being there. It’s not you who has the responsibility to take care of a helpless kid for the rest of your life. I just… why? Why does he get to decide to walk out of this? It’s my pill that apparently didn’t work but it was him fucking me without a condom. He should take the responsibility just as much as I have to. Fuck…” she let her head fall back.

“Fuck him,” she looked up, hearing Frankie’s voice.

“Fuck him. He’s an excuse of a man. You don’t walk away from the woman you love. From the woman who’s carrying your child. Fuck… I was going through rehab while Liz was pregnant and I didn’t walk out…” he kneeled down next to her. She sucked her bottom lip in.

“I just feel so… so…” she shook her head.

“I know. But you’re not alone. You got me,” he looked at her. He was planning on taking her out for lunch when he walked in.

“But it’s not your job to take care of me Frankie. You got your own family.”

“You are family,” Pope said, now standing behind Frankie. “And if you want us to kill him, just say the word,” he teased and she had to laugh at that before she looked at Frankie again.

“I told you. You don’t want a hormonal woman living with you,” she joked and Frankie chuckled.

“I can take living with a hormonal woman,” he reached up to brush away her tears.

“Now what do you say? Lunch?” he asked and she sighed before she nodded.

“I gotta head out. But i’ll bring the house offers I found over tonight, okay?” Pope asked and she nodded. He smiled, leaning down to kiss her cheek before he left.

“I mean it. You’re family. Don’t ever think you’re a burden or alone. We’re here for you. I am here for you, okay?” Frankie said. Claire breathed in deep and nodded.

“Gotta get used to people caring. I was pretty lonely the last few years I guess.”

“Yeah. Better get used to it quickly,” he winked before he helped her out of the seat.

“Gotta get dressed I guess,” she shrugged.

“And I gotta shower. I can smell myself.”

“Yeah. You stink,” she grinned before she walked past him, leaving Frankie head shaking on the patio.

“Lunch is on you,” he called after her and she gave him the finger, making him laugh before he followed her inside to take a shower.

“So what made you open up a gardening business of all things, Morales?” she asked, sitting in the old diner they used to spend so much time in when they were younger. It might be lunch time but she couldn’t wait to have her ordered pancakes.

Frankie shrugged.

“I like being outside, keeps my mind off things.”

“You any good?” Claire teased and Frankie huffed.

“Let’s just say if you need any gardening I won’t be able to help you before the end of the year,” he winked.

“Impressive. I’m happy for you. Even though I still wanna hear the story as to what exactly happened in the last two years…” she said quietly, hearing Frankie sigh.

“Only when you tell me your story.”

She sighed and smiled sadly.

“We have a lot to talk about huh?” she asked.

“Yeah. But in time. Now we gotta eat and then we got to head to the store. Still need some stuff for the BBQ.”

“Fuck how many people are coming to this BBQ? I only have like 5 friends left here and I already met 4 of them,” Clarie groaned, leaning over the shopping cart as Frankie loaded another six pack of beer in.

“Pope kinda invited everyone over he knows so you can get to know everyone.”

“Because I like hanging out with people so much?” she asked, letting her head hang, earning a chuckle from Frankie.

“You and me both. But they’re all okay. Promise,” he squeezed her shoulder in comfort and she smiled a little, bumping her shoulder against his as he came to stand next to her.

“So what else do we need?”

“I got everything. Anything you need?”

“Ice cream?” Claire asked after thinking about it. Frankie only nodded as he grabbed the cart from her and pushed it towards the freezers with the ice cream. Like he had done it a million times before he walked towards the freezer, picking up Claire’s favorite Mint & Chocolate Chip ice cream and threw it in the cart.

“Still your favorite?” he asked as he saw the surprise in her face. She only nodded, a small smile playing at her lips.

“But pick up the mango ice dream too. Been craving that lately,” she grinned and Frankie nodded only before he reached for the biggest container.

The car ride to Frankie’s was quiet, both of them hanging on to their thoughts. It was strange how they seemed to fall back into their old dynamic as if no time had passed. It made Claire aware of just how much time she had spent with him when she was younger.

“This house is for sale,” Frankie said quietly as he stopped in front of the house just down his road.

“Charming…” Claire made a face and Frankie laughed. With lots of imagination she could see herself living here. But not within the next 4 months. This would be harder than she thought it would be.

“Maybe I should have stayed in New York…” she groaned to herself, her head falling back against the seat. She felt a hand on her thigh, her head tilting towards Frankie, unable to see his eyes behind his dark aviators.

“It’s been one day since you got here. We gonna find a house for you,” he squeezed her thigh and she sighed before she looked out of the window again. Frankie felt a weird feeling wash over him, his eyes dropping to the swell of her belly, before he released his hand from her to bring it back to the steering wheel, driving the car the short distance to his farm. A part of him wondered if the choices he made earlier in his life could have prevented some of the stuff he had gone through. Maybe he should have at least tried to go to college. Maybe he would have had a job that wouldn’t have required him leaving for months at the time. Maybe he would have had the guts to tell Claire that he wanted to be more than friends before he left for basic training. But he had found out that she had slept with Santiago, shattering all kinds of hope he might have had, that there was something more between them. To this day he wasn’t sure if maybe there had been more all these years back. He had always been too scared to tell Claire, scared that this would ruin their friendship. A friendship he had missed in the last years. He had wasted years on sleeping with women he never called after until it was a woman, Liz, calling him to tell him that she was pregnant. And he tried to make it work, he really did. A part of him loved Liz, because she was the mother of his child. But that was nothing compared to how he felt when he looked at Claire.

“Is it okay if I take a nap? I’m dead on my feet,” Claire asked as he stopped the car. He blinked at her, so lost in his thoughts. She yawned and he found himself smiling at her.

“Of course. As long as you make your guacamole later?”

She laughed, shaking her head with an eye roll.

“Wake me in two hours?”

“You got it,” he got out of the car, opening the door for her, helping her out. He had noticed her struggling to get out of his truck before.

“Thank you Frankie,” she kissed his cheek before she turned around to walk towards the door. He looked after her until she disappeared inside the house, shaking his head to himself.

“Get it together, Morales,” he whispered to himself before he unloaded the car and got inside himself.

Claire was in the middle of explaining to Frankie how to open an Avocado without killing himself worked, when the door flew open and the Miller brother’s barged inside.

“You got problems with your pipes?” Ben grinned at Claire and she snorted.

“In your Dreams, Miller,” she seasoned the avocados. Frankie shook his head.

“Come on, I show you my pipes,” Frankie teased, making Ben gag while Claire laughed loudly.

“You okay Claire?” Will asked, sitting down at the kitchen island in front of her, after he put the steaks in the fridge. Claire sighed.

“Didn’t think it would be this hard, but Frankie’s a big help,” she smiled a little, tasting the guacamole she was making. She reached for more salt.

“Yeah, he’s awesome. But be gentle with him. The whole custody thing is still pretty fresh,” Will said quietly.

“He hasn’t talked to me about it.”

“He will, I’m sure he will. Just… I mean you probably know him better than I do…”

“I’m gonna take care of him. Promise,” she whispered with a soft smile and Will seemed relieved as he nodded at her.

“Miss Beck. Your pipe problem has been solved,” Ben announced coming back soaked through his shirt back into the kitchen. Claire tilted his head, nodding approvingly at the muscles she could see through his white shirt before she looked up into his eyes with a teasing grin.

“I’ll make sure to preach about your plumbing services, Mr. Miller,” she winked and could swear she saw him blush for a second.

“Enough with the puns, we got a BBQ to prepare. Claire your shower is working,” Frankie emerged from the hallway, pulling a fresh shirt over his head and now it was Claire’s turn to blush before she became very invested in the guacamole in front of her while trying not to think about Frankie’s sunkissed skin on his chest, the little tummy or the dark trail of hair she most certainly didn’t want to lick.

She didn’t see Will’s knowing look before he got up from the seat to follow his brother outside.

Claire was so focused on the guacamole she only saw Frankie’s hand in the last second, slapping it away as he tried to steal a taste of the guacamole.

“Mean,” he pouted.

“Good things come to those who wait,” she grinned before she picked up the bowl to put it into the fridge, bending down to open the freezer for her mango ice cream. Frankie bit his lip as his eyes wandered down her body, averting his eyes before she turned around.

Fuck he wished that good things would be coming to those who waited.

Chapter 3

#my writing #going back home #frankie morales #pedro pascal #frankie morales x ofc #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 3 years

Text

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 6:

Truthfully, it’s been a long day. A really long day.

The weather’s begun to change, and people are coming in left and right riddled with the flu. Your entire day was spent running between rooms, administering medication, taking temperatures and, unfortunately, cleaning up puke. All in all, it was a terrible night, and it was only going to get worse when you still had to go grocery shopping afterwards.

Still, you tried to calm yourself, taking a deep breath as you pushed the door open. Your last patient of the night, was thankfully, not flu-ridden. From your chart she was old, and the only thing you would be doing is taking her vitals before she moves on to radiology.

“Hello!” You greet, trying your best to smile kindly. “I’ll be taking care if you today.”

The old lady greets you, smiling gently as you approach. She’s got one hand wrapped in a bandage, the other cradling it protectively. Her face is a little uneasy, no doubt in obvious pain, but she seems to try and smile through it.

“So, I take it you’re here for your wrist? To get an x-ray?” You say, pulling over the medical cart. She nods and you take the blood pressure cuff, wrapping it gently around her arm. You take her vitals and then step back. “Alright, do you think you could take off the bandages for me? I just need to see.”

“Of course, I understand.” She says, calmly removing the bandages.

When she removes them entirely, her wrist is a sickening shade of blue. It’s swollen and discolored and looks incredibly painful, if the look on her face wasn’t any indication. When you look a little closer there’s strange disfigurement to her palms, like healed over burn scars. You try not to look at them too long, especially when the woman seems to become more uncomfortable the more you study them. You wonder if she’s alright. Your fingers start itching in your gloves.

“Yeah, that does look pretty nasty, I can see why you came in.” You try to smile reassuringly, but something about the woman’s scared demeanor is making you uneasy. “But, that’s pretty much the extent of my duties before I send a radiologist to come get you.”

“Oh. Okay. Thank you.”

You’re about to walk out, about to turn away and finally go home, but then she sucks in a sharp breath. When you look at her, she’s wrapping her wrist up again, and her pain is written clearly across her face. Your fingers itch trails of fire, and you find the decision is made almost immediately. You’re nearing her again, smiling gently, and thanking the hospital for lettings you use your quirk entirely up to your own discretion.

“That must hurt pretty bad, doesn’t it?” You start softly, pulling your gloves off. You move to the sink, washing your hands before you address her again. “I can help- my quirk, it lets me relieve others of their pain. If you would like me to, I would be happy to provide you with at least a little relief.”

“No- I- an old woman like me isn’t worth the fuss. Really! Don’t feel like you have to trouble yourself!”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” You smile back at her, pulling up a stool and sitting on it. “This is my job after all, and I’d be happy to help. If you would like me to, all I have to do is touch your hand. It’ll be instantaneous.”

“You’re sure?” She asks, eyes crinkling a little unsurely. She’s trapping her injured wrist to her chest again, hope coloring her voice. “You really wouldn’t mind?”

“Absolutely not. It’d be my pleasure.”

The woman nods, holding her hand forward. You smile reassuringly again, reaching for her. You stop just a few inches away.

“I just wanted to let you know- a lot of previous patients have said that everything goes green when I help them. I’m not saying this to scare you, as I’ve actually been told it’s quite pleasant, but I just wanted to tell you beforehand.”

She nods, and you take her hand, closing your eyes as you focus.

You feel it immediately. An ache in your wrist that throbs with every beat of your heart. It’s familiar, you’ve felt a break like this before, but the feeling that swallow you up next isn’t. It’s a sickness coiling in your stomach, dripping through your veins and running viscous like a slow poison. It’s like you’re being boiled alive- all of your sinew and muscle falling apart and being sewn back together. All in the span of a second. It leaves you dizzy, reeling, sick and nauseous when you release her hand.

“My- that is some quirk.” The woman marvels, flexing the fingers on her injured wrist. She does so without pain, and looks at you, a wide smile across her face. “That is very impressive. And, you were right. Green. It’s all green.”

“I- Yeah.” You try to recover, hiding your breathlessness behind a hand itching at your chin. “Of course. Your very welcome.”

“You must be able to help so many people. You must be a very good nurse with that quirk.”

“I-I’d like to think so.”

“You know,” She says suddenly, and her tone is nearly devoid of all the meekness she had walked in with. She looks brighter, livelier. “My husband and I run a facility to help grow people like you.”

“People like me?”

“Yes, dear. Those with extrordinary potential who might just need a little push.” She smiles gently, grabbing her bag at her feet. Rifling through it with her good hand, she pulls out an index card. “I’m sure your quirk is plently strong all on it’s own, I’ve certainly seen that, but if you ever wanted a little help- well, we’d be more than happy to have you.”

Then she’s pressing a business card into your hand, turning to face the sound of the door as it opens. The radiologist walks in, gesturing for her and she follows behind him gracefully. The woman leaves behind her a trail of perfume, like lavender and lilies in your nose, and then door is then shut. It seems she is leaving you just as quickly as she’d arrived.

The card in your hand feels heavy, weighty as you flip it between your fingers.

Center for Quirk Advancement

You almost couldn’t believe your luck. You had just been talking about ways to strengthen your quirk, and, as it turns out, life really did decide to let you off the hook for once. You think it’s justly deserved- it did seem pretty intent on saddling you with Bakugou, after all. Maybe it’s a strange sort of cosmic reward?

Either way, you slide the card into your bag, smiling to yourself. A part of you still feels uneasy, still sick after what you’d experienced from her, but she seemed nice enough. It made the poisonous feeling almost a little too easy to brush off.

You pack up your things, and you can feel the exhaustion creeping in. By the time you’ve gone grocery shopping and have finally made it back home, your arms loaded up with bags, you feel dead on your feet. The familiar tiredness seeps into your bones, but you blink yourself awake, determined to put the groceries away before you pass out. You brace your head in your hands. If something didn’t wake you up soon, you really would be asleep in front of your fridge.

“Oi- shitty leech!” You hear screaming, knuckles against glass and an irritatingly familiar rasp. “Let me in! Shitty leech!”

Oh- joy. Seems like something did wake you up. What was that you were saying about a cosmic reward again?

When you turn around, Bakugou is standing on your balcony, shifting impatiently on his feet. His expression is skewed up something nasty as he taps on the glass once more. He’s shouting your name, well, nickname, clad in sweats and stomping dramatically just a few feet away- you think he’s almost better left outside. Then you recognize the goosebumps on his arms and the red of his cheeks. It’s cold outside, you know it, and you curse your own heart once more, trudging dutifully over to the door.

“Wow, only a week since I’ve last seen you. And you look awfully uninjured today, don’t you?” You say, yawning as you pull the door open a fraction. Just enough to peek your head out into the cool night air. “No blood or anything. Good on you, Bakugou.”

“Shut the fuck up, leech. I was bein’ nice for once.”

“Yes- because shouting ‘Oi- shitty leech’ at me from my balcony was nice.” You roll your eyes, pulling the door open enough for him to walk through. “But sure, come in, make yourself right at home.”

“Gladly.”

You just shake your head at his curt tone, turning back to the kitchen to resume putting away your things. You’re just barely organizing vegetables away in the fridge, when you hear him stomp up behind you.

“Fuck are you doing?”

“Groceries?”

“No, idiot, I meant why’re you doing it now?”

“Because this when I have time to do it? And I just went shopping?” You ask him, bewildered, and confused. You’re tired and his mind games really aren’t amusing you right now. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand the question.”

“Are you-“ Bakugou swears under his breath, turning his nose up at you. “Jesus you really are stupid. You’re so fucking stupid. Why the hell would you go grocery shopping at 1 AM?”

“Because that’s when my shift ends, you asshole. Actually, you know what, no- I absolutely do not have to defend myself to you!” You sneer right back, whirling around to face him. Suddenly you find you’re not very tired anymore. “It’s really none of your business why I do anything, let alone when I do it so if you think that maybe you want to open your mouth again to me- don’t. And I-“

“Not like that. God, you’re fuckin’ clueless. I don’t give a shit what you do, but you do realize you can’t outrun somebody with your arms full of groceries right?”

The stunted look on your face must frustrate him, because then he’s huffing, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before dragging his hand down his face.

“You seriously didn’t think about that? You fuckin’ kidding me? Jesus fuck I should’ve know, you’re so stupid.” He breathes out, rolling his eyes. “If I saw you fumbling around like an idiot, on a dark street, in the middle of the night? When you can’t outrun me because you’ve got all those shitty fuckin’ bags? Please, even I’d be attempted to attack you. You’re making it too fuckin’ easy for those weirdos, you moron.”

Is that- is that concern lacing his features? Bakugou’s brow is creased, and if you didn’t know any better you’d almost say he sounded more exasperated than outright angry with you- but you did know better. Of course you did. Believing that Bakugou regarded you with anything but begrudgingly familiarity would be foolish.

“Okay, well than you can take that argument up with my superiors.” You purse your lips, biting back another yawn. “Until then I guess I’ll just keep going out entirely defenseless and vulnerable. Lord knows that’s apparently how you see me.”

“Please, don’t flatter yourself, leech. I see everyone as defenseless and vulnerable. You’re not special.”

“Mhm, I’m sure I’m not.” You mutter, turning back to your fridge, to put more food away. “But, really, if you have such a problem, then you can figure out how to stop all the ‘weirdos’ before they get me. Isn’t that literally your job?”

Bakugou just sighs at your remark, looking very put-on. Then he clenches his fists up, eyes determined focused on the ground. “Just- fuckin’- just tell me when you’re going next time. Stupid idiot woman.”

Truthfully, you want to give him shit. You do, because there were so many nicer ways he could’ve shown concern-but you don’t. One look at his flushed face and insecure body language has you relenting. And being way nicer than he deserves. You are pretty tried after all.

“Yeah. Okay, but you’re carrying all the bags, Bakugou.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. Or I’ll just go without telling you, and then we can catch up when I’m bleeding out in the street.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Oh, it wasn’t a joke. It was an incentive.” You smile cheekily, then you point to the bags left on the counter. “Now be a dear and unbag those for me, would you?”

“Fuck you.”

Bakugou seethes but he moves anyway, unbagging all your groceries with an absolutely unnecessary amount of force. It’s like he’s picking a fight with each plastic bag, and you try to hide your giggles.

It’s a strange little domesticity, but as weird as it is, it’s nice too. You’re still tired but things are moving much faster now, with him handing you items relatively quietly. All things considered, Bakugou did seem to be in a good mood (well, a good mood for him) and, you supposed it was nice to see him uninjured. And would’ve been totally great, totally perfect- if you didn’t turn around to see him plucking a piece of paper out of your purse.

“Fuck is this shit?”

“Are you- stop. No. Don’t just go digging around in my stuff!” You huff tiredly, grabbing your purse from him with one hand snatching the card out of his grip with the other. “You’re being rude.”

“And you’re being fuckin’ evasive. So spill it, leech, the hell is it?”

“None of your business, that’s what!”

Bakugou just rolls his eyes, plucking the paper from out of your hand with little effort. You’d like to chalk up your loss to being surprised, but no, he really is just that strong.

“Hell is this?” He asks, grumbling as he flips the card over. “Center for Quirk Advancement?”

“Yeah. That’s what it says. Asshole.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why the hell do you have it?” He stares, squinting at you like you’re an idiot. “Looks fake as shit. Get rid of it.”

You can’t believe him. Seriously. You cannot believe him. There has never been one moment, in your entire life, that you would ever feel comfortable enough to dig through someone’s things- let alone ridicule them on the spot about it. It’s pure, unbridled insanity.

“I’m not- Bakugou, I’m not getting rid of something just because you said so!” You exhale, arms crossing around your stomach as you lean back against the counter. “It’s from that woman I saw today, alright? A patient.”

“Doesn’t smell right.”

“Doesn’t- What are you? A dog?”

“No. Fuck no.” He grumbles in defense, while simultaneously scrunching up his nose and barring his sharp canines. “I’m just saying, it doesn’t fuckin’ feel right.”

“Okay, well you weren’t there, so how would you know?”

“Because this company name is bullshit. It’s stupid as fuck and I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Okay? And? There’s a million stupid companies I’ve never head of before, and I don’t immediately think they’re fake!” You stride over to him, snatching the card back from his fingers. “And you know why? Because that’s paranoia. Blatant paranoia! The world doesn’t revolve around you and your knowledge, you know?”

“God, you’re so fucking dumb.” He laughs under his breath. “It’s killing me, leech. Can you really not see how shady that shit is?”

“No? Because it’s just a business card? A business card that was given to me by a kind old lady- and, why are you- no! Stop! Bakugou!”

He just rolls his eyes once more at your yell, tearing the business card in half easily. Apparently, he’s still not satisfied, because then he’s tearing those halves in half and tearing those fourths into eights, and shredding the paper entirely on your counter.

“Can’t call ‘em now, leech.” He says evenly.

You think you could scream, maybe even murder him right where he stands. Not necessarily in that order.

“Okay. No. No.” You reprimand, nearing him with determined steps. “You are not going to just walk in here and tear up things when you feel like it! That’s incredibly rude, for one, and-“

“What, so you were actually gonna call ‘em?”

“No! But that’s not even the point! The point is, you cannot just walk in here and feel free to do whatever you want! I don’t know how it is everywhere, but here, in my house, there are manners! Manners which I expect you to have, and that means you can’t just treat my things like that! It’s disrespectful and I will kick you out if you try it again. Understand? Play nice, Bakugou.”

He pinches his face into a scowl, squinting at you from just a few feet away. It looks like he’s sucked on a lemon. Then Bakugou’s scoffing, gathering the shreds of paper into his palms.

“Here. Take ‘em then, leech.” He growls, pressing them into your outstretched hand. “Since they mean so fuckin’ much to you.”

“It’s- oh my god. Oh my god, you really don’t understand what the problem here is do you?”

“No. It’s a piece of shitty paper. Who the fuck cares?”

“Me!” You nearly shriek, letting the paper fall through your fingers and back onto the countertop. “I care! It’s my house and all the things in here are my things! So, you either apologize, and I can be way more lenient than you deserve and forgive you, or you can walk yourself out.”

Bakugou leans forward, shoulders broad and intimdating as he stares down at you. You glare right back, unwilling to lose. He was in the wrong here- not you. A few seconds pass and then he’s throwing himself back against the, hands braced behind him.

“God, fuckin’ seriously? You want me to say sorry? For that shit?”

“Hmm, for walking into my house, in the middle of the night just to tear up my things?” You nearly screech at him. “Yeah! Yeah. I do.”

“You’re annoying. This is annoying. But fine. Whatever. I’m sorry. You happy now?”

“No, actually, not even a little bit.”

Then your stomping back to the remainder of your groceries, putting them away sloppily and not really caring much to organize them. You were tired before, exhausted from using your quirk, and now? With Bakugou needling you in your own kitchen? You were beat.

“What’s wrong with your face, leech?”

Spinning on your heels, you clenching your jaw tightly. You’re gonna throw him out. He’s just asking for it at this point.

Bakugou seems to pick up on your vexation, and he, to his credit, relents a little. By looking the slightest bit sheepish, for all of one second, before wiping it away into a scowl.

“I meant- why the hell do you look like that?” He grumbles, “All fuckin’ dead inside. You look terrible.”

“I- god, there are so many problems with that statement. So many. That I will not be getting into because it isn’t even worth the effort and I-“ You rant, red in the face before you take a calming breath.

It takes a second to center yourself, but you do- because cleaning up his blood would just further deplete your tank already running on empty.

“Okay- Bakugou, have had a long day, a long one. So if you have any other little mean comments you’d like to spew, don’t, alright? Because I swear to god I will euthanize you right where you stand if you open up your mouth one more time.”

He just blinks, once, twice, tilts his head to the side. Bakugou squints, rolling his shoulders back before a slow smile creeps across his face.

“Oi- you used your quirk, didn’t you? Shitty leech.” His tone is devoid of any real venom, slight amusement coloring his words. “I didn’t know it made you so fuckin’ cranky.”

“Are you making fun of me? Right now? After what I just said to you?”

Bakugou just shrugs, flicking all the lights off in your kitchen. He doesn’t even wait for the room to fall into darkness before he’s leaving, not even looking back to see if you would follow. Of course, you had to, because your bedroom was past the living room, but you almost wanted to stay rooted where you were. Just to see his frustration when you weren’t listening to him.

“You shouldn’t use your quirk just because someone tells you to.” Bakugou says, dropping himself onto your couch. “Shit’s weak. ‘s how you get burnt out.”

“Oh, whatever. And she didn’t tell me to do it.”

“So, what, you’re telling me you chose to do it? Knowing it’d wipe you the fuck out?”

“Yeah. She needed help.” You say softly, dropping down into the opposite side of the couch. You try not to get too comfortable, but you find yourself sinking into the cushions anyway. “I’m not done till I’m on the floor. Or unconscious. Kind of which ever comes first at this point.”

“Jesus. Somebody oughta put you on a fuckin’ leash. That’s stupid as shit.”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk.” You mock, eyes sliding lazily over to his. “Mr. ‘Let me kill myself without sleep for 3 weeks straight and then show up half dead at Y/n’s hou-“

“Y/n.”

“Yeah?”

“Your name is Y/n.”

“Yes? Did we not already know that?”

“No.”

You blink your eyes open entirely, flopping sideways to face him. Bakugou is smirking openingly, lips pulled back into something disarming and shit-eating.

“You fucker.” You seethe, scrunching your eyebrows together. “You’re telling me, this entire fucking whole time, that you didn’t know my name? My name! That’s my goddamn name, you shit! And you didn’t even think to ask? What the fuck?”

“Watch your mouth.”

“Excuse me?”

“Swearin’ a lot. It’s disrespectful as shit.”

“Me? I’m the one swearing? Fuck you! You swear all the time, and it’s really funny to me that you’re even running your mouth right now considering you didn’t know my name until a minute ago! You’ve slept on my couch! Multiple times! And you didn’t think, not even for a measly little second, to ask my name and- are you laughing right now?”

Bakugou is rested against the arm of your couch, one hand across his stomach and the other covering his chin. There’s no sound, he’s trying to keep quiet, but you can see his eyes. They’re crinkled up. Almost entirely closed into little slits. He’s laughing.

“Do you want to be kicked out? Seriously? Do you want to be kicked out on your ass right now? I’ll do it! I’ll fucking do it, I swear- try me again! Stop laughing, you jerk!”

“I’m not.” Bakugou tries, doing a horrible job of covering up that he is, in fact, laughing. “Ya get so fuckin’ mad, leech. Shit’s hilarious.”

“Wow, really, me? Mad? No- see,why would I be mad about you not knowing my name? After knowing each other for months. Why would I be mad about that?”

Bakugou eventually does sober, but you still he still looks a little brighter than you’ve ever seen him. It hits you then that the only color you’d ever seen in his cheeks, at least before then, was dripping blood.

““s fine. Doesn’t matter anyway.” He says, voice deceivingly light. “Your name’s leech. Don’t really give a shit what’s on your birth certificate.”

You just sit up, grabbing the pillow behind you and launching it at him. Bakugou catches it, because of course he does, and throws it right back. When it hits you it feels like you’ve been socked in the face. Because he is an asshole. An asshole who can’t play nice to save his life.

“Fuck you. Fuck you, Bakugou.” You say matter-of-factly, swiping the stray hairs from your face. You stand from the couch, glaring down at him. “I really hope you enjoy tossing and turning all night because I am not helping you.”

“Yes you will.”

“What? Making orders again? It didn’t work the first time and it’s not going to work now.”

“Nah. Don’t need to.” He says confidently, grabbing the blanket off the back of your couch. A smirk lies across his face, one you want to slap off. “You’ll help me. Because you’re too fuckin’ nice right?”

Then he’s flopping back against the pillow, sprawling his legs out and settling the blanket up to his shoulders. Bakugou looks at you expectantly, that same irritating grin still plastered on his mouth, and you want to hit him all over again.

Because he’s right. You are too nice, and you are too forgiving, and unfortunately the everything and everyone you care about includes him. It’ll always include him, even when he insists on being an exasperating child.

“Fine, go to sleep then.” You’re pulling a glove off, nearing the back of the couch with your own devious grin. “Go to sleep.”

You lean over him, bringing your hand down to flick his forehead. He catches you, of course he does, just like that fucking pillow. Bakugou traps your wrist in his grip, his grin only growing wider. You think it softens a little too- just a bit, but then again, the lighting in your living room wasn’t that great.

“Got you. Leech.” He goads lowly, tapping his thumb against the base of your wrist. “Should’ve been faster. Shit was fucking pathetic.”

“No, you’re just a freak, with weird reflexes.” You pull back, but he doesn’t seem to be letting go. Whatever it is he’s basking in, he looks a little too prideful for your liking. “Let me go- or I use my quirk on you.”

Then he’s throwing your wrist back in your face, applying so much force that you almost knock yourself out. You stumble back, grasping on to the back of the couch for stability. When you look down at him again, Bakugou is blushing but you’re not really sure why. You shake it off- it’s his problem not yours.

“Well, there, since you insisted on being a little shit, that’s all the skin-to-skin contact you’re getting from me.” You sniff, flicking off the light behind the couch. “Better pray it’s enough to send your impudent ass to sleep.”

“Stop swearin’.”

“I swear when I’m angry and-”

“I make you angry?”

“Yes!”

Bakugou just seems to almost- smile? It’s a tiny thing, curled up against the edge of his lip for all of a moment before he’s smoothing it out again. You’re about to turn away, to finally go to sleep, when he speaks again.

“Oi- shitty leach. You’re not gonna call ‘em right?” He slurs, voice raspy. “Right?”

“No? I wasn’t? But now I can’t because somebody tore up the paper.”

“Do it again if I fuckin’ have to.”

“Why’re you so concerned about it anyway?”

“None of your fuckin’ business.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. Go to fuck to sleep.”

Then he’s out, giving into sleep and snoring into the cushions. His breathing is deep and even, mellow and relaxed, and you realize that’s all you’re getting from him tonight.

It’s not until you’re settling in bed, just on the verge of drifting, that you realize it. When Bakugou grabbed your wrist- no fire. Warmth and anger on the likes of which you’d never experienced before, sure, but no searing fire.

You wonder if he somehow forgot to put his angry pants on that day.

-/-

pls this is not edited i am so sorry ahahah

taglist: @fluffyviciousbunny @definitelynottrin @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudsgathering @un-limit-edd @thekatsukisimp @pollayra21 @the2ndl @officialtrashbusiness @waffleareniceandfluffy @monempathieetmoi @koiwoshinai @christianagrace9 @the2ndl @the-shota-king-masayuki @shy-panda02

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j-ungkooky · 3 years

Text

Temptation (Taehyung)

Ceo Au! Suggestive smut (he’s crouched under ur desk and :)) (smut will be in future chapters) Angst (later) 3181 Words Chapter 1.

“Good morning.” Taehyung simply greeted before disappearing into his office.

It was enough to get all the women in the lobby immediately shooting each other knowing glances because not only was Taehyung the company’s CEO, but he was a very handsome one at that too. His polite demeanour and respectful nature only contributed to his desirability. Due to everyone’s unanimous acknowledgement of Taehyung’s appeal, there seemed to always be some sort of competition for his attention. Whether it was to drop something off for him in his office or offer him leftover donuts, his deep voice thanking you followed by his infectious smile was all worth it. Taehyung being new to the company only made the competition over him more fierce. He had taken over the position from a now old and retired gentleman and because he had no idea what the personality of each individual in the office was truly like, it was all fair game.

She definitely would’ve been lying if she said she didn’t have some sort of crush on Taehyung but it was all physical and surface level. He was her boss after all and she only saw him for a few minutes each day. They’ve barely exchanged more than a handful of words to each other in the month of his takeover.

“Jesus...did you see his arms? They’re suffocating in that button up.” Jisoo, her colleague commented.

“You’re drooling,” she teased, “besides, you should be worrying about your meeting today and not about whether or not blood is circulating through his arms.”

Jisoo scoffed and pushed herself off of the reception desk.

“Don’t remind me,” Jisoo groaned, “it doesn’t help that Taehyung’s going to be sitting in for that meeting too. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get through anything without puking.”

The two of them continued to talk and catch each other up on what they did over the weekend before Jisoo eventually had to go back to her desk. She watched as her colleague walked away and felt a twinge of jealousy within herself. For someone like Jisoo to get nervous despite being pretty, charismatic and the office favourite was a slap to her self esteem. Jisoo also held a high position within the HR department while she was just a measly receptionist. She definitely wasn’t going to stay in this position forever but the job paid well and would suffice for now.

As the clock inched closer to everyone’s starting time, the lobby began clearing up as people went to their respected department. After a few minutes, she was left alone to man the front all by herself. She stared at the closed office doors surrounding her and felt another pang of envy in her heart knowing that people behind those doors were doing far more important work than her. Her days consisted of sorting through mail, sending emails, transferring calls and light house duties. She tried to convince herself that it wasn’t all bad because at least she could surf the internet whenever she wanted without anyone monitoring her. Her eyes traveled towards Taehyung’s door and she wondered how he was adjusting to everything before an email notification needed her attention.

With it being Monday and the meeting Jisoo was talking about earlier being held today, it was quite busy. She usually had an hour of free time before her lunch break but the emails had been nonstop. People kept revising their forms and asking her to print out multiple copies of the revised papers to the point where the printer just stopped working altogether for a scary moment. With it being so busy, she decided to stay at her desk for lunch today. She was buried so deep in her computer work that Taehyung’s presence had gone unnoticed. He needed a break from staring at his screen all day and decided to go explore the office. In the month that Taehyung transferred over, he had no time to go around introducing himself or making himself familiar with the space. His decision to finally become accustomed to his environment brought him in front of her desk. The unusually loud crinkling from the untouched candy jar she left out for everyone broke her focus. She looked up to see her boss struggling with how small the jar was.

“Do...do you need help?” she finally asked.

Up close, Taehyung’s visuals had her feeling shy and flustered like a high school girl sitting next to their crush. Taehyung seemed just as surprised to hear her voice as his movements came to a halt and he pulled his hand out of the candy jar sheepishly.

“Sorry,” he apologized while rubbing the back of his neck, “I realized I must’ve looked really stupid.”

She waved his doubts away and took the jar from him. She tried her very best to seem unfazed and collected but the red tint in her cheeks and her inability to stop smiling so wide probably gave her away.

“The um...” Taehyung cleared his throat before continuing, “the watermelon flavour please.”

After a few seconds of sifting through the numerous options, she found the one he wanted. Taehyung opened his hand and she almost laughed at how tiny the candy looked in his gigantic palm. Her amusement didn’t stop at his physicality but shifted towards his entire personality. When she first met Taehyung, she was beyond intimidated. She couldn’t look at him for too long without feeling like he was looking right through her. Taehyung carried himself with an air of confidence and always had an answer for everyone, as expected of a competent CEO. She wasn’t nervous around him because he was scary but because his presence was so large and full while she was so small compared to him. But having him stand before her enjoying a piece of watermelon flavoured candy with an innocent smile on his face was just so...unexpected.

“Is this your lunch break?” Taehyung asked noticing her untouched sandwich sitting beside her keyboard.

She looked where he was and let out a forced laugh at her pathetic set up.

“Yeah I didn’t have time to properly take a break today.” she explained.

The reason she was eating at her desk suddenly occurred to her and her eyes traveled over to her inbox which was now at double digits. With only an hour before the big meeting today, she was already behind despite only talking to Taehyung for five minutes.

“Sorry Taehyung I have to get back to work,” she sighed running a hand through her hair, “is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked looking at him for a quick second before going back to her monitor.

Taehyung watched as she worked and wondered if this was the kind of work culture he wanted to uphold. He didn’t like that she didn’t take a break and was going unnoticed for her extra work. Perhaps he’d talk to HR and accounting later to avoid situations like this from happening again. Taehyung drummed his fingers against his her desk and sucked his teeth.

“Nope, nothing else you can do for me!” he smiled, “Thank you for your hard work but please make sure to take a proper break next time. I’m going to the coffee room to take a breather myself.”

She looked up to thank him out of courtesy and he surprised her by thanking her once more and using her name. He grabbed a few more pieces of candy before going on his way.

“Hey Taehyung!” she called, leaning over her desk.

He turned his head with a raised brow.

“If you’re still going to the break room, it’s the other way.” she informed him.

Taehyung turned around on his heel and began walking hastily in the correct direction with bashful smile on his face.

“What an interesting guy.” she thought while laughing to herself.

________________________________________________

The hour leading up to the big meeting didn’t get any easier as her inbox continued to flood with people requesting numerous things from her. She was finally able to breathe when the meeting started and people stopped demanding her assistance. Jisoo had come up earlier asking for words of encouragement before Taehyung emerged from his office. She watched in awe at how effortless Jisoo made it look cracking jokes with Taehyung and drawing out deep belly laughs from him. She cringed at how awkward she must’ve been with Taehyung earlier and refused to look at him when he walked by; not that he would’ve noticed anyway as Jisoo had his full attention. She made an early new years resolution to be more like her follow coworker in the coming year.

Despite the craziness earlier, she was already bored browsing through the same pages for the past 40 minutes. The meeting seemed to be going well as no one left the boardroom to ask her to do anything. With her sanity hanging onto Pinterest boards, she welcomed the delivery man with a gigantic smile and lively greeting.

“Big one today.” the delivery man commented while slapping the stacks of boxes on his trolley.

She took a look around her desk to see if there was any available space to put the packages but to no avail.

“You can just leave them there.” she said and began rolling up her sleeves.

“You sure?” the man asked, “these are quite heavy.”

She reassured him by telling him that she deals with deliveries every Monday and that this was no different to prior ones. She bid the delivery man farewell as he disappeared through the elevator doors with the same concerned face that never left during their entire interaction.

"Finally something to do.” she thought and with that, began working on the boxes.

Taehyung struggled to keep his eyes open during the meeting. He opted to rest his chin on his hand and pretend to take notes when in reality, his eyes were closed and he was drawing random shapes in his notepad. From the moment he received emails outlining what the meeting entailed, he knew it meant absolutely nothing to him. He didn’t actually know why he agreed to be a part of it but he was definitely regretting his decision to do so. Taehyung had a long list of tasks to fulfill especially since he was only a month onboard this company and this meeting was wasting his time. Wanting to make a good impression on his employees, Taehyung tried really hard to pay attention but he simply could not trick himself into caring as the minutes ticked by. He racked his brain on ways to escape and took a deep breath before pursuing his liberation. Taehyung looked at his apple watch and feigned surprise at a non-existent message on it.

“Everyone, I apologize for leaving so suddenly but there is an issue I have to attend.” he announced while getting up from his seat.

He uttered a few more apologies before leaving the boardroom and closing the door. It wasn’t until he was out in the hallway by himself that he suddenly felt incredibly foolish over how easy it was to leave. He sat in that godforsaken room for almost an hour thinking of ways to flee and that was all it took. Pinching the bridge of his nose and inhaling a sharp breath, Taehyung made his way back to his office.

“Holy shit! What is in here?!” she groaned struggling to lift more boxes from within the delivery boxes.

In the span of an hour, she was still working on one of the four boxes delivered. Perhaps she should’ve listened to the delivery man earlier but her pride got in the way. It didn’t help that the skirt she was wearing today was a lot shorter than her usual choices but all her work clothes were currently in the wash as she simply could not be bothered to do laundry over the weekend. Every time she lifted something up, she had to immediately place the item somewhere so she could pull her skirt down or she’d accidentally flash the office.

She attempted to set one box down on her desk and winced when it slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor with a heavy thud. She waited a few seconds to see if anyone came out to figure out what the noise was and breathed a sigh of relief when the office remained undisturbed.

“Better than aimlessly scrolling through Instagram.” she thought before bending over to pick up anything that fell out.

“Do you need help?” a familiar voice called out.

She jumped in her shoes and proceeded to drop everything from her arms. She snapped her body up to see who it was and surprising her again for the second time today, Taehyung was standing in front of her desk with a curious look on his face.

“I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that,” he apologized profusely as he made his way behind her desk, “please let me help you!”

It took her a beat to register her appearance and she quickly pulled down her skirt that was riding up way too close to her crotch. She smoothed her hair before attempting to stop Taehyung from doing anything.

“No, no don’t worry!” she laughed as he held up the items out of her reach.

“If you want it then you have to grow a whole foot taller.” he teased.

“You have a meeting to go back to.” she reminded him to which he scrunched his face in disapproval.

Just as she was slowly convincing Taehyung to go back, his face turned from playfulness to dread when the boardroom door opened.

“Let me ask Taehyung to join the meeting again.” a colleague’s voice could be heard before their footsteps approached the lobby.

She was about to tell Taehyung that he was needed when he ducked under her already cramped desk and put a finger to his lips as his eyes pleaded for her to keep quiet. Before she could process what was happening, Jin, her coworker appeared.

“Hey! Is Taehyung around?” Jin asked as he marvelled at all the boxes spread out in the lobby.

She stood still trying to calm her nerves. On one hand, she was fighting against the biggest laughing fit of her life and on the other, Taehyung her boss, expected her to cover for him as he cowered under her desk.

“He is...” she glanced down at Taehyung who was now shaking his head and making a cutting motion with his hand, “I-I haven’t seen him actually! Is he not in the meeting?”

Jin cocked a brow and leaned over her desk trying to see what she was looking at.

“Is everything okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.” he laughed.

She forced a smile and shook her head, “Oh yeah I’m fine! My computer’s been acting up all day and it’s getting a little worrisome with everything going on.”

Taehyung was impressed by how quick she was on her feet and slowly breathed a sigh of relief until he heard Jin offer to come around and take a look at her computer for her. This whole situation was already absolutely ridiculous and humiliating until she sat down on her chair to click a few keys and feign relief that her computer was magically working again. The issue was no longer the fact that Taehyung was hiding from his employees but that he was contorted under her desk that was way too small for his large frame, now with her cunt inches away from his face.

“Well now that you’re here anyways, I was hoping you could help me with some paper work and scheduling.” Jin said.

“S-sure.” she managed to answer despite her throat drying up and the adrenaline slowly making its way through her veins.

She could feel every time Taehyung breathed because his exhales would land right against her inner thigh and when he sighed, she could feel it right against her sex. Her thong provided little to no protection against any sensation caused by him. She tried to clamp her thighs together but her knees would hit Taehyung’s face in the process causing her to open her legs again as a reflex and there was no more room for Taehyung to back up against.

“Are you okay?” Jin asked.

She could only nod as a response; she did not trust her voice to come out stable and natural. The battle she was fighting up there was mutually shared by Taehyung underneath. His brain was going a million miles a minute as he tried to figure out how to talk to her after this. How was he going to make this all alright and normal? He could offer her a raise and an extra week of paid vacation? Maybe he could fire her but he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if he did that. Taehyung was beating himself up for putting her in a situation like this and began to mentally prep for a lawsuit. While trying to figure out a solution, Taehyung forgot that he was just a man with a simple brain and another mental battle was underway as he tried very hard to avoid gazing somewhere he really shouldn’t. As she kept squirming, her skirt kept rising and Taehyung couldn’t help but steal a glance at the growing wetness appearing on her undergarment. The growing arousal within Taehyung’s pants made him feel more cramped and with his legs were beginning to fall asleep, he began to pray to any god out there for some sort of divine intervention.

“Fuck fuck fuck...oh my fucking god,” he chanted in his head, “Jin shut the fuck up already.”

A gasp escaping from her lips followed by her suddenly jolting startled Jin and he gave her an odd look. Taehyung had completely lost feeling in both of his feet and he fell over grabbing onto her thighs for support. His hands felt so warm against her skin and their sheer size grabbed a lot more area than anticipated. Taehyung fought back a groan when the bottom of her skirt had flipped over and her entire lower region was in full view.

“Hey Jin, is it okay if we do this over email? I’m suddenly not feeling so well.” she was able to muster out.

It didn’t take a doctor to know something was wrong from her complexion turning completely pale.

“Yeah I think you should go home for the rest of the day. You really don’t look well,” Jin acknowledged with furrowed brows, “I’ll just catch Taehyung up with the meeting myself.”

The minute she heard the boardroom doors close, she pushed her chair back so forcefully that it crashed into the wall behind her. She got up and immediately pulled her skirt down and made a beeline towards the washroom without saying a single word to Taehyung. Taehyung on the other hand stayed fixed under her desk with his eyes bulged and his mouth ajar. There was absolutely no positive outcome for what he had caused.

#bts smut #taehyung smut #bts scenarios #bts oneshot #taehyung oneshot #bts #bangtan #bts ceo

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