#its also another thing that was supposed to be just a ... what's that word

[em1i2a3]

I Wanna Be Adored

Pairing: Todd Stevens x Fem!Reader!

Story Summary: You’re not his girlfriend and he’s not your boyfriend. You’ve never even kissed in public let alone been seen together in the same room. But somehow, every time Todd Stevens is alone with you, it’s like his self-control gets tested in ways he never imagined. You were supposed to be just a secret–until hiding it stops feeling like protection and starts feeling like a punishment. (This is a three part story!!!)

Chapter One Summary: You and Todd meet for the first time at a KNA kick off party.

Story Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! Smut, Fluff, Angst (there’s quite a bit, but there’s a happy ending), Alcohol Use, Smoking/Drug Use, Mentions of Hazing (nothing is explored, and we are not in typical canon of ‘The Line’ though the characters will still match their personalities, none of the events of the lake house happened), Todd is protective over his privacy and the Reader as well. Reader is also a Sociology Major, (also I’m using the year 2023 as reference because that’s when the movie came out and it would only make sense to use that…), I also can’t remember if it’s mentioned in the movie what Todd’s Degree is in so…I’m saying Poli Sci (this ain’t canon lol)

Smut Warnings (for this chapter): Unprotected P in V Sex (wrap it up y’all), Oral Sex (female receiving), Fingering, Light Hair Pulling, Spit Kink, Breast/Nipple Play, Finger Sucking, Biting, Scratching, Licking, Aftercare, Mentions of STD/STI testing and results..

Author’s Note: The long awaited Todd Stevens has entered the chat lol, and I couldn’t be more happier with this first chapter. I kind of took a few requests and meshed them all together and I’m so excited to update this trilogy!

Word Count: 12,854

The party had already taken on a life of its own by the time Todd Stevens stepped out onto the upstairs balcony, with a red solo cup of beer in hand, as he surveyed the chaos below like a king overlooking his court.

Down in the backyard, it was all motion and heat and sweat-slicked bodies. Beer pong tables rattled with every cup-to-cup bounce, surrounded by a mixture of pledges and sorority girls chanting in rhythm with one another for their respective teams. At the far end, a keg stand was underway–two pledges holding some linebacker-sized sophomore upside down while foam gushed from the spout, spraying his face and the grass beneath him. In the lighting of the backyard there was an undeniable haze from weed and cigarette smoke overtaking the crowd, which gave this dream-like film to everything that he was looking at. Music was pounding through the house, radiating into the backyard–some remix of a remix–and in the gaps between songs, you could hear the shrieks of laughter, the crash of dropped bottles that he would have to clean up, and the occasional celebratory yell echoing into the summer night.

It was the first KNA party of the year. A tradition. A gauntlet. A spectacle.And a way to actively sniff out which pledges were going to stick and which ones you were going to kick to the curb before the end of the night. And as always, Todd had to show up, show out, and claim someone to disappear with by midnight–or else someone, somewhere, would absolutely run their mouth about it. Because if the President didn’t get any action on the first night of partying, it was going to be the talk of the breakfast table for multiple days, and he wasn’t going to allow that to happen.

Todd took another sip from his cup, cringing down the warm beer that tasted bitter on his tongue, as his eyes sharply focused and pinpointed onto you.

There was something about the way you moved through the crowd–unbothered, smooth, like you were dodging and timing things perfectly so you didn’t get into an accident. Your expression wasn’t of boredom, exactly, but you certainly looked out of place and uninterested in the events that were going on around you. And that alone made his mouth go dry in a way that had nothing to do with the awful taste of beer that made him nauseous.

He didn’t recognize you. Not even in the ‘maybe I saw her last year at Kappa’s spring rager’ kind of way. And Todd typically prided himself on knowing names, faces, stories–especially the ones tied to people who looked like you. So that meant you were either a freshman or a transfer, probably dragged here by a sorority girl, or a friend who fed you two shots of cheap vodka and told you that you’d have a ‘great time’. You didn’t seem totally out of place though. If anything, you looked like you belonged here more than half the girls who spent hours trying to get noticed by him.

Your black shorts clung to your hips perfectly, riding up just high enough to tease the line between tempting and indecency. The tank top you wore was barely a step above lingerie, the thin straps slipped against your shoulders with every movement and the neckline dipped just enough to leave everything and nothing to the imagination. His tongue flicked against the inside of his cheek, as he bit down slightly on the skin, keeping his face composed. He watched as the hem of the top kept riding up–exposing your soft, supple skin of your lower stomach with every movement–which lit a fuse within him. Was it carnal desire? Was it the fervor of a starved man? Was it him being put under your spell? He had no clue.

What he did know was that he wanted his hands on your skin. His mouth. His teeth. He was already picturing you laid out against the dark navy sheets of his bed, while he pushed up that top to reveal more of your skin to him, with your stomach rising and falling under his palms as he kneaded and pushed and squeezed, making you breathless.

Then someone handed you a bottle of tequila. It was some random junior–already wasted, wobbling a little, leaning in close to say something to you–but Todd watched the moment closely. You laughed, said something in return, touching his arm gently, then pointed to the corner table setup with a stool like you were negotiating a contract. You shrugged, and nodded, giving him a toothy smile, before taking the bottle out of his hands completely and making your way over to the table with a type of lazy grace that punched all the air out of Todd’s lungs.

You didn’t even have to climb onto the stool to get attention, because the moment you took the bottle into your hands, it was like a beacon lighting in the haze of smoke–every guy within shouting distance turned their head. You barely made it to the corner setup before a small crowd formed in front of you: blushing pledges, his fellow fraternity brothers, half-drunk upperclassmen who were swaying a bit to the music. And you? You handled the attention like you had done it a hundred times.

One after the other they all stepped forward, mouths open, heads tilted back like they were receiving holy wine at your altar. You poured each shot slowly, deliberately, letting the tequila glisten in the party lights as it streamed from the neck of the bottle down into their waiting mouths. A little smirk played on your lips–mischievous, indulgent, almost like you were enjoying the small moment of submission–and when they finished, you gave them a tap under the chin, a teasing brush of fingers over the jaw, a word you murmured too low for anyone else to hear.

Sometimes you would cup their cheek just briefly before moving on to the next person, it certainly was affectionate but it also had a commanding sort of effect, like these men were putty in your hands.

Todd’s jaw tense. His fingers tightening around the rim of his cup, knuckles blanching as he watched you going through every single person. You weren’t even fighting for attention, you were making them earn yours.

”What’re you lookin’ at?” Gettys’ voice cut in, lazy and amused, half slurred from the drinking he had been doing, as he dropped into the spot beside Todd. He leaned on the balcony rail, beer sloshing in one hand, scanning the crowd like a man who could have his pick of the crop. He was dressed too nicely for the party sporting a pair of khakis and a fitted blue button-up, sleeves cuffed, hair just disheveled enough to look intentional. Todd didn’t answer right away. He nodded downward with a jerk of his chin, toward where you stood, bottle in hand, head tilted and smiling at some tall guy with a man-bun who was clearly lingering a bit too long.

“Looking at my next girl,” He replied, eyes still locked on you. Gettys followed the nod, his thick eyebrows raising in surprise.

”That one?” He asked, pointing directly at you. Todd nodded,

”Yep.” Gettys gave an approving hum.

”Got a name?”

“Nope.”

”Year?”

”Nope.”

”Odds?” Todd downed the rest of his beer like it was a shot and shoved the empty cup into Gettys’ hand, wiping the lone droplets off his mouth, letting out a small burp.

”I don’t need odds.” He replied, causing Gettys to chuckle.

”Confidence is definitely a hell of a drug. Good luck, dude.” Todd rolled his shoulders back, adjusted the hem of his white t-shirt so it hit just above the waistband of his black jeans, and shook out his hands once. The tension that coiled in his chest was a mixture of anticipation and pure, simmering hunger. He didn’t usually get this keyed up before a hookup–most girls made the first move, or they locked eyes and fell into it–but this felt different. Like he was stepping into something volatile. Something that might have a bit of a burn on the way down, but he liked the heat.

He moved through the crowd with practiced ease, slipping between people like they were parting for him–which they technically were. Head turned. Hands grabbed at his arm. Someone reached for his shoulder and pulled him into a quick hug, already slurring compliments about the party.

”Best kickoff yet, Pres!” He smiled, said a quick thank you. Shook a hand or two. Let a girl with glitter on her chest drag her nails lightly over his biceps, and then quickly he pulled away, giving her a polite nod before disengaging, totally focused on the task at hand. The music changed as he stepped out into the open yard, bass rolling into a heavier beat that rattled through his chest. The haze of smoke was denser here, pulsing with bodies and sweat and light. Somewhere to his right, someone popped open another bottle of something fizzy and cheap, and a cloud of mist shot up into the warm night air.

But Todd only saw you.

You were still pouring–back arched slightly, one hip cocked, hair falling forward as you tilted the bottle expertly into another open mouth. You didn’t miss a drop. You smiled, touched the guy’s cheek gently, and then looked up.

That’s when your eyes met.

It was just a flicker–a second, maybe two–but it sank into Todd’s gut like a meat hook. Your gaze locked with his, and something about the way your mouth curled into that slow, almost knowing smile made it feel like everything you were doing that night was deliberate, like he had fallen into your trap. Like you’d seen him watching you. Like you knew he was coming for you. Even though you hadn’t looked at the balcony once since arriving, because he would’ve noticed immediately.

Still–that smile made his chest tighten.

You bit the inside of your cheek, ever so slightly, like you were holding something back–a smirk, a comment, maybe a dare or taunt–and then turned your attention back to the line in front of you as if he didn’t just set the ground beneath you on fire.

Todd exhaled sharply through his nose, lips twitching. That was the first point to you.

Fine.

He stepped in, shuffling forward as the group slowly thinned, inching closer with every pour and tap and cheeky grin you gave. He could already see it in his head–what line he’d open with, how his voice would drop low, just enough for you to lean in and for it to buzz in your chest when he spoke. But for once, he was second-guessing the script.

You seemed different, more because you weren’t throwing yourself at him like every other girl at this party. Hell, you hadn’t even looked twice at the guys who were practically drooling in front of you.

So when it was finally his turn, Todd stepped up with just the barest curl of a smirk on his lips–cool, collected, with the kind of self-assurance that came from knowing he was wanted. He raked his hand over his slicked back hair, a sigh coming out of his mouth.

You glanced at him again, and for the first time all night, something about you shifted. It was subtle. Your body didn’t move much, but your posture changed–like you felt the temperature rise, like the pressure in the air dropped a little too suddenly. Your gaze flicked over him, lingering just a second too long, going from his dark blue eyes to the dip of his collarbone, moving to the curve of his jaw. Then you looked away and shied ever so slightly. A shoulder tilt, the way your fingers adjusted the bottle in your hand.

It surprised him. You had been confident all night–playful, controlled and commanding of the crowd in front of you. But now you seemed so different.

Was it his presence now that he was up close? Or did you actually know who he was?

“You take special requests?” He asked causally, tone low and smooth as silk. Your eyes lifted slowly to his again.

”Depends on what it is…” You replied, your voice laced with a teasing edge, but Todd caught the small hitch in your breath, the faint narrowing of your eyes. He leaned in just a little, close enough that you’d smell the lemon and mint in his cologne, close enough that his voice would vibrate in your throat.

”How about you take a shot…And spit it into my mouth? Could you do that for me, sweetheart?” He said, watching your entire body stiffen, completely caught off guard by the request. You didn’t recoil from it, or roll your eyes. Your lashes fluttered a few times, and then your lips parted. Your eyes widening then narrowing again. It was like you were taking your time, building anticipation for the answer before leaning forward slightly and tracing your thumb over the spout of the bottle.

“Think you can be a good boy for me and take it all in one go, cause I’ve got a bit of a big mouth.” You smirked, trying to play the game he was setting up for you. Todd let out a low laugh, his tongue scraping against his teeth. His shoulders relaxing–but that molten hunger still pulsed under his skin.

“I’m pretty sure that anything touched by your tongue…I can take.” He replied smoothly, gaze dropping to your glossy lips, before returning to yours. That one line–spoken with that low, rough cadence that made his words feel like a brushstroke over your throat from the heat of it–sent a flash of warmth straight to your stomach and core. You weren’t expecting the flirtation to feel this concentrated. This direct. Like he wasn’t just hitting on you–he was circling you, lining you up for something deeper and much more vast than you would ever be expecting.

You slid your tongue slowly across your bottom lip and reached for a plastic shot cup on the table behind you, fingers closing around it and tilting with the kind of deliberate ease that told him you weren’t just playing along–you were actually enjoying this. Feeding the anticipation. Todd watched closely, eyes tracking the light gold stream as it poured from the neck of the bottle, hitting the rim of the cup with a delicate splash. You filled it to the brim, till the very last drop in the bottle was wrung out.

A quiet, amused hum came out of your mouth, setting it to the side. Todd noticed the way your lips twitched slightly at the corners, like you already knew what that meant–an excuse. A reason to pull you away. You brought your gaze back to his, heavy-lidded and warm as sin. Todd didn’t move. He wanted you to give the command.

“Open,” You said, your voice was smooth, but sensual, threaded with challenge. You brought your free hand up and cupped his jaw, your fingers digging gently into the sharp angle of his cheekbone, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth. He was freshly shaven, his skin warm from the crowd and the booze, and the attention. He dropped slightly, his knees bending just enough so that he was looking up at you from beneath his lashes. His lips parting.

Waiting.

You didn’t break eye contact as you brought the cup to your lips, tilting it slowly, letting the tequila roll onto your tongue, swallowing none of it. The brim of the cup tapped faintly against your teeth, then you set it down beside the empty bottle, leaning over him. Todd held still, his hands curled into loose fists at his sides as you brought your mouth just inches from his. He could feel the breath coming out of your nose, fanning over his face, and then–

You parted your lips.

The tequila spilled onto his tongue in a warm, slick stream, and he swore he could feel every single drop. It was sweet, sharp, with a subtle hint of mint–your flavor now, imprinted into his memory. Your hand never left his chin during this, and he didn’t flinch, or pull back, he just closed his mouth once the last of it touched his tongue, his lips brushing yours faintly in the movement. Then he swallowed.

You could feel the muscle in his jaw clench under your palm, and the way his lips glistened afterward, with tequila, spit, and a faint shimmer of your lips gloss. You weren’t sure if the thrum in your stomach was your or his, especially with how close the both of you were. You didn’t break eye contact though.

He leaned in just slightly, enough for you to feel the edge of his voice against your skin when he spoke.

”You taste better than the tequila…” He murmured, “But I think you already know that.” Your breath caught. Your hand was still cradling his face, but now your fingers slid slightly, grazing down the column of his neck, feeling the flutter of his pulse. Your teeth sank lightly into your bottom lip. You didn’t smile. You didn’t need to for him to know he had you wrapped around his fingers, just like he was wrapped around yours.

He reached past you casually, his knuckles brushing your bare thigh as he pushed the empty bottle farther down the table with the back of his hand.

”Since you’re off duty now,” He started, straightening a bit, his voice a little more hushed so the conversation was just between the two of you, “Let me get you a drink.” He added, leaving no room for a ‘no.’ Not because he was cocky–even though he kind of was–but because he knew you weren’t going to say that. You nodded slowly at him, a smile coming up on your lips.

”I’d like that.” You replied. He took a step back, gaze raking over you in a slow, deliberate up-and-down that lingered too long on the waistband of your shorts before coming back to your face.

“I’m Todd,” He added, casually, like his photo wasn’t plastered in the hallway of the frat house with a shiny golden plaque that read ‘Fraternity President of 2023.’ You smirked at him.

”I know who you are…” You let your voice hang just long enough to watch his brow twitch in amusement. “I’m Y/N.” You added.

“Well, Y/N…” Todd murmured, voice warm and edged with something unmistakably smug, “It’s nice to put a name to the face that just made my night.” You could feel your cheeks heat up before you could stop them. That wasn’t the kind of compliment he tossed around casually–not with that look in his eyes either. You let your gaze dip to your grass stained shoes for half a beat, your smile caught between flirtation and disbelief before you push a little breath through your nose and tilted your head. “Let’s go get that drink, huh?” He added, nodding toward the patio door with a little jerk of his neck.

“Lead the way.” You replied. Todd turned smoothly and stepped forward through the sea of bodies. You followed close behind, your hand brushing his back once, just lightly, just to steady yourself through the crowd–and he glanced over his shoulder to look at you, just to make sure everything was okay, even though he felt the touch radiate all the way down his spine. You watched how the crowd responded to him. People instinctively made space, shifting slightly without realizing it, like they didn’t want to miss him walking by. A few guys pulled him into quick shoulder hugs, exchanged words you couldn’t catch over the music, and he responded easily, a hand raised or a few words passed without breaking stride.

Then came the girls.

A cluster of them near the outskirts of the crowd, all glittered, turning the second he passed. You saw the flickers of recognition in their expressions, the way their eyes darted to you and lingered. One of them–a redhead in a matching crop top set–whispered something to the girl next to her and shot you a look that wasn’t subtle. Todd didn’t even pause. He gave a low murmur of acknowledgment to someone he clearly knew, then motioned lazily toward you, hand sweeping in a half-gesture like ‘she’s with me tonight’, and the air shifted instantly.

He wasn’t announcing it. But he wasn’t hiding it either.

You felt it in the prickling heat at the back of your neck.

When you reached the row of coolers tucked beneath the back awning, the noise dipped just slightly–enough to hear the lid opening, and the ice shifting inside as Todd tilted it to you. The light from the patio glinted off the water pooling at the lip of the container, clinging to the sides of every can.

“Pick your poison,” He said over the music, leaning forward slightly and holding the lid open for you.

You scanned the offerings. A rainbow of seltzers, cheap beers, some harder stuff buried beneath ice. “I’ll take a Cutwater,” You said, and he reached in without hesitation. He lifted one and turned it toward you to read the label.

“Is Lime Margarita good for you?” You gave him a small nod.

”Perfect.” He cracked the top without asking, and a fine spray of condensation misted his fingers. The can was slick in his hand, dripping with melted ice, as he handed it to you. Your palm got wet and chilled instantly, and immediately it was like he realized the small mistake.

“Oh wait, let me just–” He said, tugging lightly at the hem of his white t-shirt. “Bring it down here.” You tilted the can toward him. Todd pressed the edge of the fabric against the metal, wiping the droplets off with a careless little smirk. The contact was nothing–and somehow way too much. You couldn’t help but glance down at his exposed stomach, seeing the muscles that he had, flexing at the cool night air. You laughed softly, shaking your head.

”Very gentlemanly of you.” You commented.

“What can I say? I’m tryin’ to impress you,” He replied causally, grabbing himself a beer with the same hand and popping the tab, the can hissing sharply. You both leaned against the cool edge of the house as he took a sip and then looked over at you, eyes dragging slowly over your profile.

“So…” Todd started, his shoulder brushing yours faintly. “You a freshman?”

You shook your head, sipping your Cutwater. “Junior. I just transferred here actually.” He raised his eyebrows.

”Yeah?’

”Yeah,” You replied, glancing at him, “Wanted a change of scenery. My old college was a bit of a drag so…That’s why I moved.”

Todd hummed thoughtfully, taking a long sip of his beer before asking, “What program are you in?” You smiled into your drink.

“How about you guess?” He chuckled, the sound low and a little surprised.

“Alright.” He glanced at you sideways. “Communications?”

You shook your head. “Nope.”

“English?”

“Mm-mm.” You gave him a slow, smug shake of your head again.

He tilted his head, watching your mouth like it held the answer. “Okay…Am I close with it being in the arts?”

You made a sound in the back of your throat. “Well…It could be considered an arts major or a science major. Depends on who you ask.”

Todd narrowed his eyes slightly. “Psychology?”

Another shake of your head, your smirk growing.

“Sociology?”

You grinned, tapping your can against his in a little cheers. “Bingo.”

He laughed and took a sip, tongue swiping the corner of his mouth. “Sociology, huh?”

“Surprised?”

“No,” He said, eyes on yours. “Kinda makes sense. You seem like the type who watches everyone a little more closely than most people.” You quirked a brow.

”Is that your way of saying I seem nosy?” He smiled, lazy and wide.

“No. That’s my way of saying I’ve been under your microscope all night and I’m just now getting the chance to enjoy it.” That earned him a laugh–and a soft, slightly bashful glance away from you. Your eyes returned to him a second later, studying the curve of his mouth as you tilted your head.

“Let me guess yours…” Todd raised his eyebrows.

”By all means…Have at it.” You took a thoughtful sip from your can.

“Engineering?”

He shook his head, already grinning. “I wish.”

You bit your inner cheek, tapping a finger along the side of your drink. “Philosophy? History?”

“Nope,” He said, sipping. “And nope.” Your face scrunched up a little, almost like you were going through a list of majors inside your head.

“Okay. Computer Science?”

That one made him snort. “Still nope, and once again…I wish.”

You laughed, nudging your shoulder against his. “Alright, last guess before I give up–Political Science?” Todd nodded immediately, clinking his can against yours.

”Yeah. You got it.” You blinked in surprise.

”Really?” He let out a small laugh.

”Really.”

“Huh.” You tilted your head, studying him again. “You don’t look like a Poli Sci major.”

He raised a brow. “What do Poli Sci majors look like?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know… I haven’t met many. But the few I have? Let’s just say they weren’t six-foot-something frat presidents with good looks, good hair and really nice smelling cologne.”

He smirked, leaning just a little closer. “Seems to me like you’ve been putting that sociology major to good use by studying me.”

You gave him a soft look, letting the words hang between you before replying, “Just trying to figure out what I’m working with.”

His expression twitched–something shifting behind his eyes as he stared at you. The air was thicker now. Denser. Your words landed somewhere deeper than flirtation, and neither of you pretended otherwise.

“Touché,” He murmured after a beat, voice a little rougher now. He took another sip from his beer, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, and the heat that had been simmering quietly between you both felt just a little heavier now. Charged. Familiar.

The music swelled from the house again, a bass-heavy remix thumping through the walls and out into the night. The crowd behind you had thickened, but out here–against the siding, the drinks in your hands cooling your palms–it felt oddly quiet. Like this was its own little pocket, set apart from the chaos. Like something might happen here if you both let it.

Todd’s voice was lower now, almost like he was sharing a secret:

“Wanna get some air somewhere quieter?” You licked your bottom lip.

”Like your bedroom?” You replied. Todd let out a soft, half-choked laugh that cracked slightly in the middle.

“Seems like someone’s used that move on you before,” He said, trying for smoothness but ending up just a little breathless, his grin curling at the edges with something sheepish. You shook your head slowly, taking another sip of your Cutwater, your eyes not leaving his for even a heartbeat.

“No…I’m just really interested in sleeping with you tonight and was hoping suggesting your bedroom would be a good way to convey that.” His cheeks flushed–not dramatically, but enough that the soft golden light from the patio caught it, and for a second, he looked boyish. Like someone had managed to reach in past the confident, cocky exterior and press a hand directly against the softer part of him. The part that wasn’t used to someone else taking control, and being forward.

“Oh really?” He murmured, his voice thick. You just raised your brows, lips twitching with a smirk as you nodded, slow and sure. Todd leaned in again–this time closer, his shoulder brushing yours fully, his head tilting slightly as his voice dipped into something that curled around your spine like smoke, “Cause I feel the same way.” You felt that one like a pressure change in the air. Like gravity shifted slightly in his direction. You smiled softly, your mouth brushing the rim of your can again, and you took another sip, calm as anything, even though your heart was now hammering a little against your ribs.

“Lead me to your room then,” You said.

He wrapped his hand around your wrist–firm, warm, steady–and replied with a grin curling at the edge of his mouth, “It would be my pleasure.” And with that, he guided you inside the house, his grip gentle but possessive. The moment you crossed the threshold, the temperature seemed to rise. The air was humid, dense with sweat and cigarette smoke and too many bodies pressed too close. Music pounded through the drywall like a heartbeat. The deeper you moved into the house, the more the sound seemed to saturate the walls, seeping into your skin.

Todd stayed just ahead of you, parting the crowd with an ease that was almost unconscious, like they could sense it–his presence, his rank. When someone tried to barrel down the stairs without looking, he shifted in front of you instantly, forcing the guy to step aside with just a look.

When you reached the top floor, the hallway was dimmer, a little quieter. Todd spotted Gettys immediately, leaning against the wall near the landing, sipping from a Solo cup like he owned the place.

“Hey!” Todd called, still walking. “Tell the rest of the brothers my room’s occupied until further notice. I don’t want any interruptions.” Gettys blinked, clearly caught off guard by the sight of you behind him, but he didn’t question it.

“Will do!” He called back.

You leaned in close, your voice low and amused, barely louder than the buzz in the walls, “One of your henchmen?” Todd let out a quiet laugh, glancing over his shoulder at you.

”He’s one of the pledges, actually.” The way he said it–like a correction, but with no embarrassment–made you smile. He walked you further down the hallway, his hand brushing yours occasionally. Then he stopped in front of a door near the end and twisted the handle. When he pushed it open and flicked on the light, you blinked in surprise.

The room was immaculate.

Bigger than expected, and far more put-together than any frat bedroom had any right to be. The walls were paneled in dark mahogany wood, smooth and polished, with warm-toned lighting that gave everything a golden sheen. The floor was clean hardwood, no clothes or beer bottles cluttering the corners. His desk was perfectly arranged–a set of color-coded binders already labeled, a stack of fresh notebooks, pens in a holder, and a small chrome lamp beside a wireless speaker. No mess. No chaos. Everything was sharp, intentional.

Mounted on the opposite wall was a sleek flat-screen TV with a PS5 neatly tucked beneath it. A row of controllers sat in a tray beside it, and next to that, a locked mini fridge with a magnet that read: You break it, you buy it. His sneakers were lined up in perfect order beneath the bed frame–each pair spotless, like he cleaned them often even if there wasn’t a trace of stains.

But the bed was the centerpiece.

A king-sized mattress, framed in dark wood, took up the middle of the room. Navy blue sheets, tightly tucked. Pillows fluffed. The comforter was a dark charcoal, folded neatly at the end like it had been smoothed out just before the party started. It looked less like a frat boy’s crash pad and more like something out of a boutique hotel catalog. Todd closed the door behind you with a soft click, sealing out the thrum of the house like it was nothing more than background static. You turned in a slow circle, taking in the unexpected quiet–only hearing the faint hum of the mini fridge and your breathing. Todd leaned against the inside of the door, watching you with that same half-lidded smirk.

“What do you think?” He asked, gesturing slightly toward the room. You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Are you secretly Martha Stewart?” Todd barked out a laugh and pushed off the door, running a hand through his hair as he took up the space beside you.

”No,” He started, trying to control his laughing, “I just like being organized, I guess.” You squinted at him, one brow raised suspiciously.

“Or…You secretly have a girlfriend who cleans up after you.” That made him tilt his head with a thoughtful little hum, but he shook his head without hesitation.

“No. Definitely not. Haven’t had one since I joined the frat, actually.” You bit the inside of your cheek, amused.

“So you’re basically admitting you’re living the bachelor lifestyle.” Todd shrugged, walking over to set his beer can on the dresser.

“I get what I can,” He said easily, “but it’s not often. I’m manning a whole house of kids, basically. You can imagine how much free time I get for…Extracurricular activities.” He turned back to you, his eyes flicking down to your hand. Gently, he plucked the Cutwater from your fingers and placed it next to his own on the dresser, his touch lingering for half a second longer than necessary.

“If you need to use the washroom or anything by the way,” He added, nodding toward the side of the room, “It’s right over there.” You followed his gaze and spotted the door you hadn’t noticed before–sleek, tucked neatly into the paneled wall. You gave him a soft nod.

“I’m gonna pop in there quickly, actually.”

“No problem,” He replied, stepping aside. You slipped across the room and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you and flicking on the light.

It was just as polished as the bedroom.

It was compact but elegant. A glass-walled shower stood at one end, the tiles inside a dark slate grey. A black bath mat lay perfectly aligned in front of it, and the vanity was a sleek modern fixture with a brushed steel faucet and a glowing backlit mirror that automatically turned on when you entered. A set of hand towels was folded neatly on the counter, and the air carried the faint scent of eucalyptus and mint from a diffuser quietly humming on the windowsill.

You opened the top drawer out of curiosity and found a small box labeled disposable towels in clean, bold lettering. You tugged one out quickly and laid it across the counter. The heat of the party still clung to your skin, making your clothes feel damp and sticky in all the wrong places. You took your phone out of your back pocket, placing it beside the towel, and hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and underwear, sliding them down your hips in one smooth motion, stepping out of them before reaching for the towel.

You rinsed it under the warm tap, letting the water run through the durable material until it was just the right temperature. Then you pressed it gently between your legs, wiping away the sweat, the grime, the faint stickiness of a night spent in body heat and adrenaline.

It was quick, efficient. Just enough to make you feel fresh again. You tossed the towel into the trash, and pulled your bottoms back on, folding your underwear into a ball and stuffing them into your pocket before washing your hands quickly and splashing some cool water on your face.

When you glanced in the mirror, you didn’t look frazzled. If anything, you looked…Lively. Lit from within. Like anticipation had bloomed in your chest and you hadn’t fully admitted it until now. You were going to hookup with the hottest guy at the party, and not only that, he was as enthusiastic as you were, and that gave you the jitters. You let out a shaky sigh.

”You got this.” You whispered to yourself, shoving your phone into your back pocket, before closing the light, and opening the door quietly, stepping back into the heat of his gaze. Todd was standing at the foot of his bed, the golden light catching in his soft light brown hair, casting soft shadows across the sharp angles of his face. He had just put his phone down on the dresser–screen dark, distractions off–when his eyes lifted and locked onto you again.

“Everything okay?” He asked, his voice softer, stripped of the teasing edge from earlier, but still thick with electricity. You nodded once.

”Yeah, I’m fine.” You replied, your breath a little shallow. Your steps toward him were slow, purposeful. There were only a few inches between you now. And up close, the weight of his gaze felt tangible. His blue eyes were scanning over you in a way that made it feel like he was cataloging every curve, every flicker of expression, every breath you took. Not in a way that made you shrink–just the opposite. It made your skin feel hot under the fabric, made your spine straighten and your pulse dance in your throat.

Then, without a word, Todd reached out and curled his fingers gently around your waist. His touch was warm–anchoring. He tugged you in, easing you flush against him, and dipped his head until his lips hovered just a breath from yours.

The kiss came slow.

But once his mouth met yours, the heat behind it was unmistakable. His lips were soft but insistent, moving against yours with the kind of care that felt deliberate–like he’d been thinking about it all night and didn’t want to waste a single second now that he had you. His hand slid up, fingers tracing the line of your jaw before cupping your cheek, thumb brushing lightly along the curve of it. The gesture contrasted with the intensity of his mouth–the press and pull of lips, the soft scrape of teeth, the faint flick of tongue tasting lime and tequila and something distinctly you.

Your hands found him instinctively–one sliding up the column of his neck, your thumb feeling the steady, pounding thrum of his pulse, while the other rested on his shoulder, nails digging lightly through the soft fabric of his t-shirt. He groaned softly against your lips at the contact, the sound vibrating in your chest. When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t far. Just enough to breathe–and even then, it sounded like he had to remind himself to do it.

“Fuck,” Todd murmured, his mouth still barely parted, his voice breathless and low. “That was nice.”

You barely had time to smirk before his arms slipped around your thighs and lifted you in one fluid motion, your hands instinctively scrambling around his neck while your legs wrapped tight around his waist. The movement drew a surprised laugh out of you, breathy and bright, and Todd didn’t waste a second before kissing you again. This time, messier. Hungrier. His lips parted yours quickly, tongue brushing deep in a way that made your fingers clutch tighter at the back of his neck.

The walk to the bed was short, but it felt like everything inside you was expanding with every step he took. When he reached the mattress, Todd bent just enough to place you down gently, his mouth still on yours as he eased you back against the soft, cool sheets. The scent of his cologne–mint and heat and skin–seeped into the linens as he pulled away only to shift you up higher, one hand braced behind your shoulder blades as he guided you toward the center of the bed.

He hovered over you for a moment, gaze sweeping your face. His fingers stroked lightly down your side. Then his voice, low and sure, murmured, “You okay still?”

Your lips curved, even as your chest fluttered with anticipation. “I’ll tell you if I feel anything different…”

Todd’s eyes flicked over your expression, reading it, memorizing it. Then he whispered, voice rough, reverent, “Okay.”

And he kissed you again.

This time it felt different–deeper, more indulgent. Like you were sinking into something slow and molten and completely consuming. His body pressed against yours, the weight of him grounding but never smothering, his mouth moving with skill and patience like he had nowhere else in the world to be but right here, unraveling you kiss by kiss.

One of his hands slid under your top, palm warm against your bare stomach, fingers tracing upward with soft, teasing pressure. Your hips shifted reflexively beneath him. The other hand stayed braced beside your head, steadying him, but also boxing you in. His tongue dragged over yours in a slow, sinful rhythm, every movement of his mouth drawing you deeper into the haze. Slowly, he pulled back just enough to break the kiss–his mouth parted, chest rising and falling against yours, his breath heavy and hot on your lips. For a moment, you both just stayed there, suspended in that shallow space, still close enough to taste one another’s breath, to feel the heat pulsing between you.

A slick strand of saliva lingered between your mouths, glinting briefly in the warm light before it broke, sliding down the corner of your lip. Todd swallowed hard, his voice low, almost rasped.

“Can I take your top off?” You didn’t hesitate. You nodded, immediately propping yourself up on your elbows. His hands were gentle but eager, sliding further under your tank top, and in one smooth motion, he lifted it over your head and off your body, tossing it aside blindly. The cool air kissed your newly bare skin–and his gaze devoured it. Todd froze for a beat, his lips parted, pupils blown wide as he took you in. Your bare breasts, the way your chest rose and fell unevenly with every shallow breath you drew, your flushed skin lit gold by the soft lighting of his room. His mouth twitched like he was trying to speak, but couldn’t quite form a sentence.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath, almost reverent. His tongue darted out briefly over his bottom lip, like instinct. “You’re…” He trailed off, not being able to finish. He just leaned forward and kissed you again–deeper this time, hungrier, like your bare skin had knocked the last bit of composure out of him. You gasped softly into his mouth as he gently pressed you back into the mattress, your spine arching slightly to meet him. His hand slid up from your side to cradle your ribcage just beneath your breast, his thumb brushing softly along the sensitive skin there, teasing.

He pulled back for just a moment, breath brushing against your cheek as he murmured, “You look so fucking good…” His voice sounded ruined–wrecked already, like you’d just barely started and he was already on the edge. Then his lips were on your jaw, warm and open-mouthed, kissing a slow trail toward your neck.

“So soft…” He breathed against your skin. You tilted your head to the side automatically, letting him in. Letting him explore. You were already breathless, your body taut beneath his touch, goosebumps chasing every kiss he left in his wake. His tongue traced a path along the curve of your collarbone before he sucked gently on the skin there, teeth scraping just enough to make you inhale sharply.

Then he moved lower.

His mouth hovered above your chest, breath hot against your skin. He pressed a kiss between your breasts, then to the swell of one, his hand sliding up to cup it with near reverence. His thumb brushed over your nipple once, and your breath–your hips shifting, your thighs squeezing around his waist.

He leaned in slowly, and the moment his hot wet mouth wrapped around your nipple, your back arched off the bed, a quiet moan escaping your lips. His tongue was warm, swirling around the bud before sucking gently, then harder–just enough to make you whimper. His other hand slid up to tease the neglected breast, his thumb flicking softly, waiting for the bud to harden so he could give it a small squeeze between his fingers. He nibbled gently on your nipple, pulling back just far enough that his teeth grazed it, sending a sharp, unexpected jolt through your body that made your breath catch. Your back arched, fingers lacing into his hair on instinct, gripping tight as the sensation lit a fire across your chest and straight down between your legs.

Todd groaned softly at the feeling of your fists tugging him closer, his breath catching just slightly. He let go with one last teasing flick of his tongue, then moved to the neglected breast, his mouth latching on with a deep, satisfied hum that vibrated through your ribs.

His tongue swirled slow and wet, painting circles around the bud before sucking hard enough to make your thighs twitch. He bit down, just lightly, enough to make you gasp again, and then soothed the sharpness with his tongue, lapping over the sting with slow, deliberate motions. You whined softly, chest heaving as your hands clutched tighter in his hair, and he pulled back with a quiet pop of suction, your nipple glistening and swollen from his attention.

Then he blew.

A cool stream of air fanned across your damp skin, and your whole body shuddered at the contrast. Goosebumps broke out across your stomach, your legs, your arms–your breath catching in your throat.

Todd grinned like he’d just won something. “Your breasts are so fucking good,” he murmured, voice thick with awe and hunger. “Could stay all day licking and sucking on them. They’re the perfect fucking size…And your skin tastes so good against my tongue.” You let out a breathy, breathless sound that might’ve been a laugh, might’ve been a moan–you weren’t sure. You opened your eyes to find him staring up at you from between your breasts, pupils blown, lips red and slick from his work. He looked drunk off you. Addicted.

He kissed a slow path down the slope of your chest, tongue tracing the subtle dip of your sternum. Then lower, along your stomach, your skin twitching under his mouth as he mouthed at the soft skin there–kissing, nibbling, scraping the faintest edge of his teeth across your navel. You giggled and squirmed, his hands sliding up your thighs to steady you again.

“Fuck…” You breathed, chest still rising and falling from the way he’d just wrecked your upper body. “I know you have a lot of fucking experience just by the way you do that.” Todd’s lips curved against your stomach. He nipped at the skin just below your belly button, playful, a little smug.

“I just know how to be a memorable lover, I guess,” He murmured. You let out a small breathless laugh, eyes fluttering shut for a second.

”You’re saying you just have pure raw talent then?”

“Exactly…” He replied, his voice rough and satisfied. His tongue tracing a lazy, slow circle around your navel, before pressing his lips just below it. Then his hands slipped back down, finding the waistband of your shorts. His thumbs dipped beneath the fabric, and his voice dropped as he looked up at you again.

”Mind if I take these off? You didn’t speak, you just rested your hands over your breasts, squeezing them gently before nodding.

”Please…” You whispered, lifting your hips for him. Todd’s blue eyes darkened in the light, pupils blowing even more, sliding your shorts down slowly, his gaze not leaving yours. But when he realized you had nothing underneath them he let out a soft moan.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” He rushed to pull them off the rest of the way, letting them fall to the floor with a soft thud, his breath catching in his throat as he took in the tasteful sight of you against his charcoal duvet–bare and glistening with anticipation, thighs just slightly parted. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, eyes flickering from your eyes to your soaked, swollen core like he could decide what to do first.

He lowered his body slowly, hands spreading your thighs open wider, until he had the perfect view.

”Fuck.” He breathed, “Is there anything about you that isn’t perfect?” You let out a soft, surprised laugh and threw a hand over your face, your cheeks growing hot.

“Do you always shower people with compliments when you’re hooking up with them?” You teased, peeking at him through your fingers. Todd looked up, his lips curving up into a smirk.

”Only people named Y/N.” You bit your lip, heart skipping at the way he said your name like it already belonged to him.

”You’re so smooth,” You murmured, dropping your hand from your face, “No wonder you’re President of KNA.” He dipped his head and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, lips dragging over your skin before he sucked softly, marking you there–just faintly. His teeth grazed the delicate flesh, and you squirmed. He grinned against your skin.

“You’re very flattering,” He rumoured, his voice vibrating against your inner thigh, and then his tongue slid through your folds, catching you completely off guard. He didn’t tease or build up to it. He just dove into you like a man starved for your arousal–licking a long, thick stripe from your entrance up to your clit, moaning like the taste of you had just blown every fuse in his brain.

“Oh my god–” You gasped, voice catching as Todd buried his face deeper between your thighs, dragging his tongue through your folds with slow, wet precision. His grip tightened, spreading you wider, thumbs digging into the crease of your thighs as he groaned directly into your core–low, broken, starved.

His mouth was devastating. Tongue licking your entrance with long, reverent strokes before he started sucking on it softly, slowly, like he was tasting honey from its source. It was obscene, wet, loud, and it only made the heat spiral harder through your body.

You bucked your hips involuntarily, but Todd didn’t let you get far.

He flattened one hand against your thigh, then moved the other to your lower stomach, pressing down gently to keep you grounded, to feel you clench and spasm under him. When he lifted his mouth, his lips were slick, pink and swollen, glistening with your arousal as he looked up at you–completely wrecked and so goddamn smug.

“Fuck, baby…” He panted, voice raspy with heat, “You’re making a fucking mess down here.” His fingers slid through your folds, gathering slick, spreading it deliberately over your clit in slow, teasing circles that made your toes curl and your mouth fall open. Then he spat–a hot, messy strand right onto your dripping slit–and moaned like he’d just won the lottery.

“Jesus, look at you,” He groaned, rubbing it in with two fingers, making a filthy sound as he massaged it in. “This pussy’s begging for it…So soft, so fucking wet…You gonna let me play with her a little longer?” You couldn’t even form a word. You just nodded frantically, chest rising and falling with sharp, shallow breaths as your thighs trembled under his grip.

“Good girl,” He murmured, and then–finally–he pressed two fingers to your entrance, teasing it before gently sliding them in. You gasped, your back arching as he filled you slowly, knuckles deep, curling them with purpose the moment they were fully inside.

“Oh fuck–” You whimpered, clutching at his hair, your nails digging into his scalp as he crooked his fingers perfectly against your front wall. His mouth returned to your clit, tongue flicking and swirling as he fucked you with his hand–slow at first, then faster, rougher, working that spot inside you until your hips bucked without control.

“You’ve so fucking tight…”. He mumbled against you, every filthy word vibrating through you, “Squeezing my fingers like you never want me to stop. You close baby?

“Yes—Todd, fuck—don’t stop—” you cried, your voice high and shaky, your whole body beginning to shake as he doubled down—licking harder, faster, dragging the flat of his tongue over your clit in sync with his fingers pounding into you, relentless now.

Then he pressed down harder on your lower stomach, fingers still curled inside you as you felt the pressure building, unbearable, incandescent.

“Todd—I’m—fuck—I’m gonna—”

“Come on, sweetheart,” he growled, his voice filthy and coaxing. “Soak my fucking hand. Let go for me. I wanna feel this pussy flutter around my fingers while you scream my name.”

And you did.

With a choked sob, you came hard–hips lifting off the bed, thighs clamping around his head as you screamed his name. Your whole body convulsed, walls fluttering wildly around his fingers as you came and came and came, your breath stuttering, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

Todd groaned against you, his free hand holding you down with firm pressure as you bucked, grinding against his mouth in desperation while he kept licking you through it, slow and thorough. He didn’t stop until your body went limp–until you were gasping for breath, fingers still tangled in his hair, thighs twitching from aftershocks.

When he finally lifted his head, his face was slick with you, lips shiny and parted, chest heaving.

“Holy fuck,” He whispered, his voice ruined. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” You could barely reply, your voice hoarse, trembling with pleasure.

“I think…You just broke me,” You managed to breathe. He grinned, breathless, brushing a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh, then again, softer.

”Do you need a break?” He asked, and you nodded.

”Just…A few minutes. Come back up here and kiss me again though, and maybe get out of those clothes…I want to see you.” Todd nodded.

”Okay,” He murmured, voice rough, before he slipped his fingers out of you with a slow, deliberate slide, watching the way your body twitched at the loss of fullness they provided. His fingers glistened with your release, and he didn’t even try to hide the way he looked at it–like it was something ethereal and otherworldly. Then he leaned in and kissed a path up your inner thigh, slow and sticky and warm, leaving smudges of you along your skin. His mouth wandered higher–over the swell of your hipbone, your stomach, pausing just long enough to drag the sheen of your arousal from his lips across your navel and up toward your ribs, hot and sinful. He hovered above you, eyes lidded with lust, curls falling forward slightly as he reached for the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one fluid motion.

The cotton peeled away to reveal a lean, pale torso speckled with freckles like someone had flicked them onto him with a paintbrush. His body wasn’t bulky–he wasn’t the type to live at the gym–but he was toned in that deceptively strong way that made your pulse pick up. Defined shoulders, firm chest with just the faintest dip of his sternum visible under the warm light, and a subtle shadow of muscle along his abdomen that hinted at long hours of effort beneath the surface. Not showy. Just real. Real strength, real softness. Real heat.

A barely there trail of light brown hair led down from his navel, disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans, and without thinking, your hand reached for it–fingertips dragging lightly over the line, over the freckled skin, feeling the flex of his abs beneath your touch.

“Jesus, you’re so hot.” You whispered, full of awe, confessing and complimenting his body all at once. Todd’s lips quirked into a slow, knowing smile at the wonder in your tone, the way your gaze traced him like you were memorizing him cell by cell.

”Oh, really now?” He teased, seeing the way you were drinking him in. If you had been sitting upright you would’ve been drooling all over yourself.

“Yeah,” You replied softly, fingers curling around his side, dragging your nails over the freckles scattered along his ribs. With his eyes still locked on yours, he reached down and undid the button of his jeans, the sound of the zipper echoing faintly in the quietness of the room, a low metallic sigh dragging and bouncing off the walls. He then shimmied out of them awkwardly at first, before kicking them off quickly, letting them join the pile of clothing that lined the floor. Your eyes glanced down at his boxer briefs, now catching a glimpse of him in all his glory.

His erection pressed firmly against the dark grey fabric, the shape of it unmistakable and mouthwatering. For a moment he let you look–his hand drifting down to grip it in his palm and adjust it slightly into his waistband so that when he shifted on top of you there wouldn’t be any pressure on your already overstimulated core.

“Just want to make sure you actually have a bit of a break...” He explained sheepishly. You let out a small laugh as he leaned over you again, the soft dip of the mattress shifting beneath his weight, bracing one arm beside your head. His other hand cupped your face, cradling your cheek with a tenderness that made your stomach flutter. He kissed you slowly at first–just a brush of lips, soft and warm–before the hunger started bleeding back in, his mouth slanting over yours more firmly, shifting against you before pulling away for just a breath, sliding the hand from your cheek all the way down, letting his fingers trail across your throat, and chest, past the swell of your breasts and stomach, dipping quickly between your legs again. He swiped his fingers slowly through the mess he had left there, gathering your arousal with a light touch that made you gasp, your thighs twitching. Then he brought those same fingers up, glistening, and held them poised in front of your mouth.

“I want to watch you lick yourself off my fingers…If you’re okay with that.” He whispered, his voice like velvet and gravel all at once.

You didn’t hesitate to lean up slightly and closed your lips around them, sucking your own arousal off his digits with a slow, deliberate pull of your mouth. Your tongue dragged along the pads of his fingers, coating them with spit and heat as your eyes fluttered half-shut. You let out a soft moan at the taste of yourself on his skin, humming around them as you sucked until he was clean.

Todd exhaled sharply, watching like he’d never seen anything more erotic in his life. “So fucking hot,” He muttered under his breath, voice wrecked.

Then he was kissing you again.

This time was different. Messier. Desperate. His mouth crashed against yours, his tongue sweeping past your lips to taste what you had just licked from him. It was spit-slick and scorching–teeth clashing, lips parting wide, the kind of kiss that felt like it wanted to consume everything in its path. Your hands slid up his bare chest, fingers digging into the solid muscle and faint dusting of hair, pulling him closer, needing more. His hips rolled once–just enough to press the heavy weight of his cock through his briefs against your core, not fully grinding, just teasing, just enough to make your breath catch.

Your thighs clenched instinctively around his waist, locking him in place. He groaned against your mouth, the sound rough and guttural, and rocked his hips again, slow and careful, letting the friction build like embers fanning into flame.

You whimpered softly, the kiss breaking just long enough for you to press both hands to his chest, halting him slightly.

“When was the last time you got tested?” You asked, breathless but serious, voice a little hoarse from the moaning you had been doing. Todd’s lashes fluttered, dazed from the heat of you, but attempting to get his thoughts in order. He glanced over at his phone on the dresser, then back to you, panting lightly.

”I have my most recent test results on my phone, it was like…Two weeks ago. Everything came back clean, all the panels were negative.” You gave him a soft peck on the lips, humming.

”Did you get tested because of a scare?” He shook his head, pushing some of your hair off your forehead.

”No. It was just a checkup appointment at my doctor’s. I do it every few months for my own state of mind. When was yours?” You pecked him again.

”Last month,” You whispered, “It was negative…I haven’t had sex for three months though.” Todd’s expression flickered–something quiet, something fond under the hunger. His thumb brushed along your cheek again, like he was grounding himself in the moment, in you.

“Do you want to use a condom just in case?” He asks, “I really don’t mind.” He added.

“No…” You whispered, brushing your lips across his. “I want to feel you. I’m on the pill, so we’re okay.”

Todd’s pupils blew wide, breath catching at the raw honesty of it, and then he gave a slow, dazed nod.

“So…” He murmured, voice husky, “Does this mean…We can have sex now?” You nodded without hesitation, and before the words could even settle into the air between you, he surged forward to kiss you again. It was messy and immediate, his mouth colliding with yours with a hunger that made your toes curl. His hands skated down your body, gripping your thighs, your hips, anywhere he could get skin to hold.

Then he pulled back just enough to hook his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs pushing them down in one smooth movement. His cock sprang free, flushed and heavy, already leaking at the tip. Thick, long, curved just enough to make your stomach flutter. He wrapped one hand around the base and gave it a slow, languid stroke, his chest rising and falling like he was trying not to lose control before he even started.

Your mouth parted, eyes locked on the sight of him. He looked so goddamn good like that–freckled chest heaving, a few strands of hair falling into his eyes, his cock glistening in the low light. Todd let out a shaky breath, then leaned forward again, bracing himself over you, kissing you deep, filthy, groaning when you reached up and slid your hand into his hair. You tugged gently, nails scratching lightly at his scalp, and he moaned into your mouth.

Then he reached down between you, dragging the head of his cock through your soaked folds–slowly, deliberately–coating himself in the slickness you left for him. He guided the tip to your entrance, and then, with a slow thrust, he pushed inside. Your breath hitched, the stretch making your whole body tense. His cock slid in deep, inch by inch, your walls fluttering and clenching greedily around the thickness.

You gasped into his mouth, eyes wide, your fingers tightening in his hair. “Oh my god…Todd–”

”I know…” He panted, forehead dropping to yours as he pushed the last few inches inside, fully seating himself in your slick wet heat. Your nails scraped down his back. His head dipped lower, his nose brushing yours, breath hot and uneven.

“Does it feel good?” He whispered, voice thick with awe.

Your body arched beneath him. “So fucking good. Jesus, you’re fucking blessed–” That made him groan, his lips curling into a breathless smirk, one hand grabbing your thigh and pushing your leg up onto his shoulder as he leaned back to lock on the place where your bodies met. The slide of him inside you was slick, deep, steady—like he was savoring every inch. He thrust back in, slow and deliberate, hips rolling forward until he was seated flush again, his breath catching in his throat.

“Fuck…” He breathed, barely more than a whisper. He did it again. And again.

Then, eyes still drinking in every twitch and gasp you gave him, he murmured, voice thick with heat and reverence, “You look so good with me inside you…”

The words sank into your skin like warmth from the inside out. You whimpered, breath catching in your throat, nails dragging gently down his arms.

Todd leaned forward slightly, pressing one hand down on your stomach, right above your pelvis, his palm flat and steady. You felt the pressure instantly, grounding you–and then you felt it deeper, that sensation of him moving inside you heightened tenfold, like he was pressing in from the outside and inside at once. Your back arched reflexively, your mouth falling open in a broken moan.

“Oh my god–” You gasped, and he groaned again at the way your body responded, tightening around him.

“You feel that?” He asked softly, eyes flickering between your face and where his hand rested on your belly. You nodded, desperate, hips twitching up into his next thrust.

“It’s so much,” You whispered, hands flying to his biceps, fingers curling over the muscle and nails biting into his flesh.

“I know,” He rasped, his thrusts growing just slightly deeper, more rhythm than force. The pressure of his hand stayed firm, not rough–just heavy and intimate, like he wanted to remind you that you would probably remember this experience long after you left this room. That he was there. That you were full of him and his whole world had narrowed to that single truth.

“God, you feel perfect.” He murmured, dragging his lips down to your collarbone, where he pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your skin. You moaned, high and aching, your hips rolling up to meet every thrust. His words weren’t vulgar–they were soft, breathless, worshipful. He was panting against your neck now, thrusting into you with slow, sensual rhythm, each movement designed to press deeper, to make you feel every inch of him.

Your fingers curled into the back of his neck, pulling him back into a kiss that was all heat and tongue and shared breath. You moaned into his mouth, hips grinding up harder as the pressure inside you started to spiral again.

“Don’t stop,” You whispered against his lips. “Please don’t stop, Todd–“

“I won’t,” He breathed, fucking you with slow, deliberate strokes that made your toes curl. “You feel too fucking good. I could stay here all night…Just like this.” He leaned back enough to look at you again, his hand still pressing gently on your stomach.

“Look at you,” He murmured, pupils blown wide, voice hoarse. “You’re so goddamn beautiful like this…Taking me so well…”

“Todd,” You whimpered, your voice shaking now, your body wound tight around him.

“I’ve got you,” He promised, hips never breaking rhythm. “You wanna cum again for me?” You nodded frantically, tears gathering in your lashes from the sheer intensity, the fullness, the way his cock dragged so perfectly inside you. Then he gripped your wrist and pinned it gently to the mattress above your head, his palm wide, fingers curling around yours as he leaned in, breath hot and ragged against your lips.

“Then give me your all, Y/N,” Todd growled, voice wrecked and low, full of need. “Let me feel you soak me, hmm?”

And with that, he thrust into you deeper–harder. The bed creaked softly beneath the rhythm of his hips, your back arching as the change in pace pushed you closer and closer to that precipice. His free hand slid under your thigh, guiding it higher up his shoulder, pressing in at just the right angle. The pressure was perfect–his cock dragging deep inside you with every thrust, brushing that devastating spot again and again. You cried out, fingers clenching tight in his grip.

“That’s it,” He murmured through gritted teeth, “Fuck, Y/N, I wish you could see yourself.” Your moans grew louder, breathless, broken—hips twitching as the heat coiled sharp and hot low in your belly.

“Todd…I’m gonna–”

“I know,” He panted, grinding into you deeper, harder now, “Give it to me, sweetheart–come on, give it to me.”

Your whole body tensed, the band inside you snapping like lightning through your veins. You came with a gasp that turned into a cry–legs shaking, walls clenching and fluttering hard around his cock as you soaked him just like he asked. It hit you like a wave–blinding, electric, messy–your head tipped back as stars pricked behind your eyes. Todd didn’t stop. He let you ride it, working you through it with strong, steady thrusts, his mouth trailing hot kisses across your jaw, down your throat. His voice–breathy, ruined–whispered against your skin:

“Fuck, Y/N…You feel unreal…”

And then he gave one last deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside you with a sharp groan. His body trembled. His cock twitched, and then you felt the warmth–thick and hot as he spilled into you with a soft curse into your neck.

“Jesus–fuck–“ He whimpered, his hips stuttering against yours, trying to push even deeper, like he wanted to pour every last drop inside. His grip on your wrist loosened as he leaned forward and kissed you, lips hot and messy, breath still catching in his throat.

You moaned into his mouth, your body limp and sensitive beneath him, the wet heat of his release already leaking from where you were joined.

When he finally pulled back from the kiss, your chest was heaving, and your leg slipped off his shoulder with a little moan escaping your mouth at the burn that flared up your thigh. Todd caught the sound and grinned lazily, his face flushed and shining with sweat.

“You okay?” You nodded, your expression softened, dreamy.

“Yeah…Yeah, I’m okay.” You reached up to brush his damp hair off his forehead, your fingertips gentle. His blue eyes shimmered in the low light, soft and blown out, watching you like he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

“For a hookup,” you murmured, voice teasing but fond, “you really gave it your all.” That made him laugha real, throaty, post-orgasm kind of laugh, a little breathless and warm. He leaned in and kissed your cheek, letting his nose nuzzle softly into your neck, his chest rising and falling against yours as he murmured into your skin:

“I could say the same thing to you…”

You hummed, smiling as your fingers combed through his hair, your body still pulsing with the afterglow, wrapped in the heavy quiet of the room. The sheets were a tangle around your legs, the air thick with sweat and sex and the faint cologne still lingering on his skin.

Then Todd stirred, pressing one last kiss to your collarbone before lifting his head.

“I’m gonna get a warm towel so I can clean you up,” he said, voice quieter now, like he didn’t want to disturb the peace between you. He looked toward the bathroom door, then back at you with a crooked smile. “Do you want some water?”

You nodded, your throat still dry from all the moaning and panting. “That would be nice. Thank you.” He eased out of you slowly, hands braced against the bed on either side of your body like he was trying not to disturb you more than necessary. You whimpered faintly at the loss, feeling his release pooling warm and thick against your thighs, giving you a small kiss on your cheek before slipping off the edge of the bed. The air felt cooler now. Or maybe it was just the absence of his body weight pressing into you, the heat of skin-on-skin gone too suddenly.

Todd reached for his boxer briefs, tugging them up with the quiet rustle of cotton and elastic before padding across the hardwood floor. You watched as he opened his mini fridge, pulling out a chilled bottle of water, condensation already misting the sides. He came back and handed it to you gently, placing it in your palm with the same care as if it were something precious, and then leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. His lips were warm. Slightly sticky with sweat and the last remnants of the kiss he gave you before everything had melted away. You placed the bottle on your chest, letting the cold soothe your heated skin, still catching your breath.

Todd straightened and made his way to the bathroom, disappearing inside and leaving the door slightly ajar. You stared up at the ceiling, the wood paneling glowing amber in the warm light, your legs still slightly spread, the room carrying the heavy silence of a night that had been anything but quiet. Your body hummed, not just from the orgasm, but from the afterglow–the softness that settled into your bones after something really fucking good.

A few minutes later, Todd returned, moving slower now. The energy between you had shifted, but it wasn’t awkward. If anything, it was softer. He came back with a warm, damp towel and knelt between your thighs again, his touch gentle, his eyes checking yours before he laid it against your skin.

“You good?” He asked quietly. You nodded, a small hum escaping you. He cleaned you up with care. He didn’t rush or joke about it or make it weird. Just focused, patient, his brows drawn slightly in concentration like he didn’t want to miss a spot. When he was done, he leaned up and pressed another kiss to your inner thigh–less sexual this time, more like a parting kiss. Then he tossed the towel into his hamper.

“Do you…Wanna stay over?” He asked after a moment, looking down at you like he wasn’t sure if the invitation would land properly.

You shook your head slowly, sitting up a little. “I think it’s best that I go back to my dorm tonight.”

He nodded–no offense taken. “Can I at least pay for your Uber so you don’t have to walk home?”

You gave him a smirk, biting your lip. “Sure.” He stood, walked over to his dresser, and opened the top drawer. You watched as he pulled out a regular hoodie–a slightly oversized one with a faded logo across the chest–followed by a pair of black sweatpants, and then a clean pair of boxer briefs. He placed the bundle of clothes gently beside you on the bed.

“You can change into these so you don’t go home cold or anything,” He explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

You raised your brows in amused surprise, tugging the hoodie toward you. “Can I have your number? You know, so I can get them back to you safely.”

Todd smirked, that same cocky curve to his lips that had gotten you into his room in the first place. “If I didn’t know any better, it seems like you’re trying to secretly get my number for other nefarious things.”

You shrugged, slipping the hoodie over your head, his scent enveloping you immediately–clean, warm, a little like the cologne he had been wearing the whole night and something unmistakably him.

“Maybe I’ll put you on speed dial so that I can have you on call…In case I need another memorable night.” He let out a small laugh–quiet, almost bashful.

And that was how the night ended.

Wrapped in his clothes, body still aching in the best way, your number saved in his phone, and his name now lit up in yours as President Todd.

[lumilasi]

Finally finished these. I have also written the scene this was based on/was sort of an inspo for. (Fun fact; Originally that brown thing on Jayce's arm was supposed to cover the rune embedded into his arm, but I changed my mind about how the rune works in the plot so uh...he no longer has that in the story, its a non-canon detail lmao)

Here's the scene in question, or its current draft version anyway: (Side note, Commune!Salo plays a MAJOR role in this fic, but also ISN'T like canon at all as Viktor doesn't do brainwashing, he HAS changed to arguable a better person, but in a veeeery different way, you'll see....)

Viktor had to admit, he was relieved to find out the entity had been right after all; that Jayce wasn’t actually angry at him over this. Still though…

”Was…was that why you didn’t speak to me much after that? You were…wondering who Ren was?”

Jayce looks up at him confused, then seems to realize something, eyes widening in alarm. He then stands back up, making his way to the bed to sit down next to Viktor, letting his crutch fall to the floor - a bit foolish perhaps - before grasping his cheeks gently.

”Oh, no no no! I wasn’t—I wasn’t mad at you, no. Just….”

He shifts closer, pressing their foreheads together as his fingers slide down to the sides of his neck, rubbing some strands of Viktor’s hair between them. The touch was so warm it almost makes Viktor shiver, and he swallows down hard, closing his eyes as his free hand lifts up to rest against Jayce’s chest.

”I…wouldn’t have blamed you.”

”No. I was just….I had a lot of things in my mind. Not just Ren and trying to think who her parents might be.”

”Oh? Then what were you thinking about?”

Viktor asks mildly curious now, caressing Jayce’s chest with his thumb; he was quite fond of the fact Jayce hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt coming here tonight. Probably found it a waste of time when he had better things to do.

”Well…a lot. Mum and how worried she must be. If your friends can bring her a message given the curfew situation up top. If Cait blames herself for this, thinking I’m dead. How despite how stupid and reckless my actions were, I somehow got insanely lucky, ending up here of all places.”

Jayce pauses, seemingly getting distracted for a moment by just the feel of Viktor’s hair and skin under his fingertips. Viktor was very afraid his heart would leave his body anytime now to crawl inside Jayce’s.

”…..Admittedly, I am still puzzling over the fact Salo is here, and somehow he’s less of an ass, and you two even seem to be….friends?”

Last words are spoken like a hesitant question; Viktor opens his eyes for a moment, gaze fixating on the hand he held against Jayce’s chest. The glow had crept down to his wrist, still not wanting to touch Jayce, but it was at least visible.

”I….suppose?”

Viktor hadn’t thought about it that much really, but…he admittedly did have Salo accompanying him the most outside Huck. He let Salo call him out in ways others didn’t - or wouldn’t. There was just something about that bluntness, that when removed from the context of Piltover and a political figure looking down at him like an ant, that he appreciated.

There was also, again, what had happened after Finn’s ill-fated invasion attempt. No, even before that, when Salo had had his personal crisis over his past. Perhaps, he’d indeed started to consider the man a friend without even realizing it, and wasn’t that ironic? Even though Salo had admittedly always been a bit more amicable towards them than some others, typically voting in their favor, he had still been just another politician. Another pampered Piltie that cared only how useful you were to them.

That Salo was long gone, replaced by something far more capable than his past, spoiled self with access to all the possible resources could’ve ever been. He had far less now, but held himself with the kind of steady pride that was far more justified and resolute, not based on social hierarchy.

”A lot has happened since you last saw him Jayce, as said.”

”I can tell.”

Jayce chuckles quietly, and they fall silent for a moment, just….enjoying each other’s closeness. Jayce’s warm fingers resting against his neck, playing with his hair, his palm, pressed steady against his chest, feeling Jayce’s heartbeat under his palm, a reminded that he was alive. That this was real.

”….Viktor?”

”Mmm?”

”Can I….kiss you?”

Viktor felt his face glow with a faint blush, but he nods almost shyly, feeling Jayce lean closer, those hands coming up to cup his cheeks. The kiss was soft, and gentle, and incredibly relieving. Solidifying the fact he’d indeed ’painted demons in the walls’ as the entity had put it.

Something clatters on the floor, Viktor vaguely aware that he’d dropped his staff, pressing both hands against the warm and solid chest, gaining a surprised gasp from Jayce, before one hand slips down to his waist. He’s pulled closer, closer, until they’re both pressed flush against each other, Jayce’s fingers firmly laced into his hair.

[iznyangwoni]

DEMON HUNTERS | enhypen smau !

chapter six

it can’t get any worse than this. It’s what you try to tell yourself. Out of everyone in that damn group of demons, it had to be Jungwon the one you had to share a schedule with, of course. Just your luck. You don’t usually hate photoshoots, sure, they’re not your favorite thing and they do feel more like a side quest rather than your actual job, but they’re still fun. You get to dress up, feel all pretty for a few hours, but this? No, you can’t do this with Jungwon and have fun.

It takes all of your energy to not summon your sword and just stab him in the chest. And talking about chest, fuck. Why can’t you keep your eyes off of it? They have him wearing a simple denim button-up, the first three buttons undone, showing the necklace of the brand, and way, way more.

You both manage to keep it together the first thirty minutes of shooting, you don’t talk and only look at each other when told to. You can tell he also can’t wait to kill you. Funny thing is, his hatred look is making the photographer only want more and more pictures of the two of you looking in the eyes. Makes you want to vomit.

After a while, it’s obvious he can’t contain himself anymore, he just whispers, so that no one else but you can hear. “If they make me look at you once more I swear I’m killing that photographer first and then you.”

If he wasn’t so serious while saying it you would’ve found him almost funny. “The feeling is mutual,” The poses are getting more annoying each time. Right now Jungwon’s elbow is resting on your shoulder. “Can’t wait to get you all alone so I can finish my job this time.” You say, when the pose changes again and no one can see what you’re mouthing. “As if you could take me.” “Oh I can take you.”

Its down to the last few shoots, now facing each other. Its been hours, the staff seems pretty tired already, and so are you, honestly. Still, your lack of energy doesn’t make you any less hateful towards the guy in front of you. Jungwon’s hand goes towards your cheek just as told, not really touching it. Then, when the photographer is distracted talking with someone else, you feel something sharp against your skin.

Your eyes widen for just a second, Jungwon’s smirk only gets bigger. Did he just cut your cheek? You want to punch him so hard right now, but you manage to stay calm. “Fifteen seconds.” His brows furrow for a second, confused at what you’re saying. “I give you fifteen seconds to run. After that you’re dead.” He smiles again, dimples showing. “Oh that’s plenty. Make it ten.”

The flash of the camera stops your words, you turn towards the stuff, the photographer seems thrilled. “Perfect! Just like this, you two! So much chemistry, so-“ You stop listening, you can’t hear another word about this. When you turn back around, Jungwon is no longer next to you, instead, he’s at the door leading to the underground floor. He’s holding ten fingers up. Ten seconds.

Before anyone of the staff can come up and fix your hair or makeup, you start walking impatiently towards him, your steps are heavy, your sword already in hand and, when you reach the floor, he’s already there, waiting for you.

“You idiot, scarring my face on comeback day? You must have a death wish!” Your weapon hits right next to his head, he jumps over a few boxes, keeping distance from you. “C’mon, if anything i just made you look less boring.” “Less boring!?” When you try to go for his chest, he holds up a tray he found on the floor. Really, fighting in the props room is the worst.

“Yes! You know how many of you i’ve seen? All of you hunters are the same.” You don’t want to hear him, if he knew other hunters, then it must mean they weren’t able to kill him. “Oh my god, a bad demon! you must die, blah, blah, blah. We need to turn the honmoon gold, blah, blah, blah.” His voice gets higher when he makes fun of the way hunters are supposed to talk. He’s distracted, so this time you make it in time to hit his arm, cutting his sleeve.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Before you can cut his arm off, he teleports behind you, a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his cold fingers around your neck. “Oh, I know.” You try to take his grip off your neck, your fingers trying so hard to make him let go, but its only harder when you’re also holding your sword. “Why do you hunters keep trying when the honmoon won’t ever turn gold?”

Those words freeze you, the weapon falls down with a loud thud of the metal. Your heart rate picks up and, in a state of anger, you hit him with your elbow, making him let go of your throat. You don’t pick up the sword, instead you just hit him, making him fall on the floor. “You’re lying.” “For once, i’m not.”

You don’t know what’s gotten to you, but you straddle him, you fist closed tightly as you hold it up, ready to punch him just in case. “Yes you are!” Your other hand is keeping him still by his shirt. “Why do you think no one did it in over five hundred years, then?!” You shake your head, it can’t be real. The whole reason you do this is, the whole reason you’re born, it to reach that goal, it can’t be a lie.

You’re about to punch his face when the door suddenly opens, you look up, scared it might be some employee. Instead its just one other demon, Jay you think it is. He’s looking down at you and Jungwon. His eyebrows rise, then furrow again, and that’s when you realize you’re still straddling Jungwon’s lap.

“Am I interrupting something..?”

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[gingerdusk]

Why do you like Guzma so much? What puts him in blorbo territory for you. I've never really gotten it

GUZMA PROPAGANDA TIME

His house is on Route 2 on Melemele, just outside of Hau'oli. In it you find:

Dusty trophies, all 2nd and 3rd place

A picture of little Guzma holding his Island Challenge amulet with pride

A bag of broken golf clubs that are just. On display. The two most popular theories are that 1) Guzma broke them in anger, or 2) Guzma's dad hit him with them

His dad, who says the following when talked to: "It's good for kids to experience their own journeys, but running away without even a word to your parents is another thing entirely. I tried to set that boy of mine straight, but when I did, I was the one who got beat…"

His mom, who appears postgame, and says: "I know that there were a lot of rumors flying around, saying that our Guzma was up to no good and doing terrible things…but I know it was all just lies."

Already, we've got a terrible home life on display. Aggressive dad, home conflict, never winning, and a mom that refuses to see anything as less than her perfect ideal home.

Team Skull was made out of the ashes of people who failed the Island Challenge, who followed the Ula'Ula Kahuna before Nanu. Said Kahuna was struck down by the Tapu he was supposed to serve, after disregarding the environment and building a lot of things without Tapu approval, namely the Thrify Megamart. Tapu Village was destroyed.

So Guzma ran away from home after being a failure. Joined up under the old Kahuna of Ula'Ula. Watched that guy get got by Tapu Bulu. Which, by the way, Pokédex entry:

"The guardian deity of Ula’ula is a lazy Pokémon. It commands plants to immobilize its foes and then deals them a savage blow with its horns."

Granted, we don't know for sure that the Kahuna was killed, as it's never said explicitly what happened to them, but:

According to Hapu, the position of Kahuna is for life

According to Acerola, the position can't be refused

Literally everything about the Tapus points to them being wild, vengeful, untamed nature spirits

Tapu Village is WRECKED

Regardless, Guzma's life got bowled over by whatever happened to that Kahuna. Then he immediately went on to fill the Kahuna's shoes and take command over the collective misfits and failures left in the wreckage, and made Team Skull.

He was also best friends at some point with Professor Kukui, but they had a COLLOSSAL falling out over becoming Trial Captains together (Guzma held onto the dream, Kukui ditched it, Guzma's still salty about that).

And then. AND THEN. There's the thing with Lusamine.

Rich lady who finally gives Guzma the recognition he never got. Tells him everything he wants to hear. Leads him along. Lets him play as her heel out on Alola, giving him the bad guy position against Aether so he'll be taken seriously.

Gets this guy, who's hooked on approval and praise, so wrapped around her finger that he'll ignore her freaky museum of cryogenically frozen Pokémon, who'll commit ACTUAL crimes like kidnapping for her, who FOLLOWS HER into a WORMHOLE to AN ELDRITCH HORROR DIMENSION-

And she just...leaves him. Ditches him to fend for himself while she pursues Ultra Beasts. Didn't care when one got him and terrified him. Didn't listen to him afterwards. "There's no talking to her, no reasoning with her… She's just gone."

And after that?

He tears down everything he's built.

Disbands Team Skull, who still love him. Tries to remove all Skull association from himself, from covering tattoos to taping over his custom jacket. Goes home. To that house. Fights the protag one last time, then when he loses, gives them his lucky charm that he won in his first battle. Is in a major depressive slump. That you can't fix in-game. No happy ending for him. He's beat.

And that's not even getting into his mannerisms! When he loses, he acknowledges your win, like a good sport, but then grabs his hair and yells at himself- "Guzma, what is WRONG with you?!" When he's out and about, he's a showboat, addressing Malie Garden with "greetings, cowering public!" and talking big about himself and how he's going to beat you down. When he got got by Nihilego, who amplifies the emotions most CORE to your being, he says he's never felt true terror like that before.

Breaks things when he's mad, yet look at his Shady House room.

Sure, it's disorganized and vandalized with spray paint, but look at it. Fancy plates and wine bottles. Pretty lamps. A globe with a golden stand. Fine porcelain. A king-sized bed.

He likes luxury. He's a bit clumsy in getting it and making the impression he wants, but he likes feeling special, and important, like the former owners of the manor were.

He's a theater kid with wild mood swings who ran away from home, who looked after people no one else would, who's so, SO easily manipulated by scraps of affection. He likes Tapu Cocoa. He wanted to be a Trial Captain and make puzzles for kids to beat. His lead Pokémon is the final form of Wimpod, who are garbage at battling, and who flee at the first sign of trouble.

And that's all BEFORE talking about my own personal headcanons about him.

In short: Look At My Boy

[kastheory]

steve did not bully eddie in "the past" steve was a grade below him for 3 out of 4 years of his high school career freshman steve heard this weird loudass sophomore talking w his friends at 100 decibels in the hallway about fighting elves in the woods or something (steve did not know what larping was nor care to find out) and then he went to class bc are you insane hes not fucking w a sophomore you dont normally fuck w people ahead of your grade especially if they yell at people and wear chains and get into fights in the woods (with elves?) and you dont even have classes w them. you dont even care much about them in the first place beyond passing gossip like HAVE YOU GUYS EVER BEEN IN HIGH SCHOOL. sorry. anyway.

then steve keeps catching this guy in his periphery over the next two years shouting about board games and controversial food opinions and metal bands that steve likes a few songs from but could not ever imagine giving that much of a shit about. like at all. and by (steve's) year 3 the motherfucker is bouncing off the walls giving speeches about what the hell ever and saying he cant fucking WAIT to get out of this FUCKED UP PLACE!!!! YEP ITS TRUE IN LESS THAN ONE MEASLY YEAR ILL BE SAYING MY SWEET SWEET GOODBYES TO THIS BRAINLESS CONFORMIST PRISON!!!! and hardly anyone reacts beyond rolling their eyes or snickering to their friends about it and this includes steve because who cares literally who cares. this guys been causing a ruckus since the beginning of time and hes weird and unpredictable and not worth trying to shove in a locker he would probably evade the attack anyway like a nimble mouse or squirrel he might even try to bite you. and steve didnt shove anybody in lockers in the first place so who cares and yeah he has pretty eyes and a funny way of talking and moving around but WHO CARES

and then steve goes through the first round of nightmarish shit that would become a yearly ordeal and then wraps up junior year in a perfectly normal not haunted whatsoever fashion. and then hes a senior and in his subtly cringefail era (ongoing) and that freak guy is STILL HERE for some reason and kinda pissed off and possibly a bit devastated about it so okay great now steve has a few classes with this angry weirdo loudguy but. crucially. he has had a lot of OTHER SHIT to deal with lately (MONSTERS ARE REAL) (GIRL DIED IN HIS POOL) (GF RESENTS HIM) (HAS NO FRIENDS) (COLLEGE APPS) so the only effect eddie's constantly loudmouthed & often unwarranted input during class ever has is that it adds a little flavor to the constant metaphorical and literal headache of steves life.

and then he goes through round 2 of shit and finishes his senior year with little hope for a satisfying future ahead of him and never once thinks about that guy again except when his fellow grads whisper about oh my godd did you hear that the freak flunked out again hahaha and yep sure enough eddie's not there at the graduation ceremony. and he thinks huh i wonder what his fucking problem is and then he MOVES ON. the end. thats the extent of """their past""" at least in terms of any actual interactions btwn the two of them i promise okay listen to me. i was there

[clumsypuppy]

i think the reason why im so drawn to spirit tracks and pkmn scarvi is that having the legendary/princess as a companion rather than a goal that marks the games completion makes me feel satisfied the way i would after helping a friend

my brother always teases me about how I still havent finished botw after almost 7 years bc "id rather be out picking flowers" which i wont say is untrue. and yes i know Zeldas been holding off ganon for 100 years, yes i can get some sort of idea what her relationship with link was like by recalling memories and going through her diary. ive always loved botw for its unique storytelling and setting which makes it stand out, because it lets you get to know who you're saving.

but because theyre memories, it only works if theres something for the player to investigate that already happened. its retroactive (but effective nonetheless)

on the other hand, spirit tracks does something similar but instead of having the player try to piece together memories and interpret them as a spectator, you actually have an opportunity to get to know zelda yourself by talking to her and working together. besides making it a gameplay mechanic, giving the player control over how they interact with zelda makes it so much more personable.

and I find that making the goal feel personal instead of an obligation gives me more of a reason to work towards it. I know what kind of person botw zelda was but as the player, shes still very much a stranger to me. but spirit tracks zelda? thats my friend!!!! she invited me to go to the beach after we get her body back!!! i dont want to whip her to make her move faster thats mean :(

you know how hostage negotiators are trained to introduce themselves and get to know the person theyre negotiating with because its harder to hurt someone when you know what their favorite food is? its kinda like that, because it feels like im helping a friend than being told or led to do smth

and although i havent played scarvi myself, i feel an attachment to koraidon and miraidon even just watching playthrough clips because its like!! thats my weird scaly dog!! it loves sandwiches and we're friends!!! you know!!!!!!

[shigussy]

i love technology. google translate isnt the best but when u need to talk to someone that only speaks a language u don't know it's very useful.

[keeps-ache]

why's all the colorful stuff always in the kids' options oTL

[theloveinc]

caitie!!! may i ask abt timeskip kats 🥹🥹

Sel🥺 my sweet angel 🥺 my blueberry pancake with chocolate drizzle 🥺 my root beer float 🥺 yes, anything, and thank you!!!!

MY TIMESKIP KATS........ Let's see... this........... LMFAO is ancient. Not super ancient, as in...... I've written most of it within the last few months, but ancient as in I originally started it in.......... 2022? Maybe? and ended up shelving it because I got some heat for talking about some major age gap DC I wanted to write and then had this grouped in with it.

It's really as simple as it sounds, I can't lie. A quirk sends Bakugo from the future back to a younger/current you!!!!!!!!!!! And it turns out, as he reveals, that you're married (even if you barely even know him, currently)!!!!!! And yes....... that means you have to fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!😱😱😱

But honestly what's most interesting about it, is... I think it's going to be the longest smut piece I've ever written AND the best smut I've ever written, as adding to it feels like sewing some very intricate embroidery. So not only am I'm very impressed by my writing of it (hence why it's taking me so long).... I'm also just genuinely excited to keep working on it.

Here's your snip:

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[gingerbreadmonsters]

ginger, cracking an eyelid and thinking about opening requests for a little bit? its more likely than you think 👀👀

[unproduciblesmackdown]

barely alternate version of that billions 4x12 scene

[humanjarvis]

good heart

synopsis: zayne wonders if he’s mean. you reassure him otherwise.

tags: fluff. comfort. zayne is self-conscious and cute  pairing: zayne x reader word count: 641

a/n: surprise (not rly) first zayne fic :] it’ll be interesting seeing how i want to write him since i’m probably the most similar to him irl #neurodivergence. also posting the most depraved and fluffiest things i’ve ever written in the same week who said versatility

“Darling, have I ever been…mean to you?” Zayne asks hesitantly.

You’re cuddled on his sofa with your knees resting against him, halfheartedly watching a nature documentary. Brilliant rays of afternoon sunlight pour in through the floor-length windows, drawing most of your attention away from the grasslands and toward the trio of squirrels leaping over leaves in Zayne’s backyard. At his question, you raise your head from its place on his shoulder, squinting at him playfully. 

“Hmm,” you draw out, as if actually taking the time to consider his question. He blinks at you. “Nope! A little impassive, sometimes, sure,” you grin, poking his adorably neutral face. “But never mean.”

He forces out a weak smile at your teasing, gently lowering his gaze to your intertwined hands. 

When you don’t receive the usual politely packaged retort, you furrow your brows in worry. “Why do you ask? What’s wrong?” 

Still fixated on your interlaced fingers, Zayne clears his throat. “At the hospital today,” he starts, “one of the younger patients said I was…mean.” He bites the word out as if it tastes bad, the mere association of it with his character destabilizing his being. 

Perplexed, you unclasp your hand from his to lift his chin. “What happened?” 

“All I did was tell her that if she wants to feel better, she’ll need to take her medicine daily.” Now it’s your turn to blink at him. “Perhaps it was the tone I used, I’m not sure. I haven’t encountered this before.” 

Deep in thought, he moves to bow his head again, unconsciously avoiding your gaze out of unwarranted guilt. With a frown, you grab his face between your hands before that can happen, climbing over his lap to straddle him. 

“The Zayne I know is worried that doing his job makes him mean?” you ask, peering into his startled hazel eyes. “C’mon, Zaynie, she was probably just being stubborn. You of all people should know what it’s like to avoid taking medicine.” Lifting his top lip as if to inspect his teeth, you drive your point home when he flinches away. As his face flushes pink, you feel his cheeks warm under your hands.

“I’m aware that children…and adults…are hesitant to follow doctor’s orders at times,” he says, clearing his throat. “But I also know I'm not the most…expressive of people. I’ve gotten so used to behaving freely when I’m with you that I wasn’t monitoring my mannerisms in the pediatric ward today. I must have appeared quite intimidating to a vulnerable child. The thought made me uncomfortable. It made me wonder if…I’d ever made you feel that way as well,” he grimaces.

With a fond sigh, you tilt his face up to yours to kiss his nose. This time, his blink is slow and confused. 

“The only one you're being mean to is yourself,” you start, pinching his cheeks lightly. “No matter what’s on your face or in your voice, I know what’s in here,” you say, placing a firm palm over his chest. “You wouldn’t be Dr. Zayne without your directness. You wouldn’t be my Zaynie, either. And I happen to like both versions of him very much.” 

As you press another kiss to his nose, the corners of his full lips quirk up. “I suppose I should be nicer to him, then.”

“You’d better. Or else he’ll have to write ‘I am nice. I am kind. I have a good heart’ over and over again until he understands. Surgeons don’t have time for that.” 

“I'm sure I possess the cardiovascular fitness to work it into my schedule,” he quips. “I have a good heart, after all.”

As the joke lands, you give him an exaggerated wince, removing a hand from his smiling face to fake a retch. “Okay, maybe I was wrong. Subjecting me to that? That was a little mean.”

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Yuutsum 3

SUMMARY: What if you also have a Tsum? Then your Tsum and the Tsum of the person you like keep giving signs that they like each other?

CHARACTERS: Twisted Tsumderland 3 Tsumsitters (Ace; Trey; Ruggie; Jamil; Vil; Idia; Malleus; Silver)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader 

WARNING: Spoilers for the Twisted Tsumderland 3 Event and the Tsumsitter cards Vignettes.

WORD COUNT: An average of 810 words per character.

COMMENTS: This was originally a request from @taruruchi for my 1k celebration. Which you can read here. And since so many readers liked it, I decided to do what I normally do when this happens: Do this for ALL the characters! Grouped by event in this case.

The request also includes Jamil's and Silver's tsums, but I wrote them before part 3 was even announced on the JP server. In other words, I had to pretty much guess what their tsums would be like, but now I could write them more accurately.

And I ended up get carried away writing Vil's and Idia's parts. 😅

I hope you enjoy 😉

Yuutsum 1 (Riddle; Cater; Leona; Jack; Floyd; Epel; Sebek)

Yuutsum 2 (Deuce; Azul; Jade; Kalim; Rook; Ortho; Lilia)

CONTEXT: Like the original Twisted Tsumderland 3 event, this takes place after the events of the first and second Twisted Tsumderland. And, surprise, your Tsum is back! But it’s the only one, all the other Tsums that came with it are completely new visitors.

Just like the other times, your Tsum seemed restless and wanted to leave Ramshackle Dorm, probably to go look for the other tsums. You decide to take a walk around the school building first and you notice a gathering in the cafeteria.

“If you give it devoted, loving care, I'm sure it'd be willing to show its gratitude!” You hear Ace's voice say from behind a wall of other students.

You come closer, with your tsum in your arms.

“So... Who wants to look after the tsum?!”

“I'll do it!” a Scarabia student offers.

“What are you talking about?” A Pomefiore student counterposes. “That's gonna be me!”

And an argue begins. You stand on your tiptoes and crane your neck to look over some students' shoulders and see an Ace-tsum on the table.

“Okay, easy, guys. You can all take turns trying your hand at looking after it.” Ace interrupts. “If things go well, you might get to see more tricks. And hey, if they don't do any, you can just return it tonight.”

Even though you know this is about Ace and his tsum, you can't help but feel a little sorry for the things Ace is saying. It's like he just wants to get rid of his tsum. Poor little guy. And your tsum agrees.

“I can take care of it!” Your voice rings out, Ace and Deuce recognizing it immediately.

The students in front of you turn and see that you have another tsum in your arms. They make way for you while commenting on how cute it is.

“(Y/N)?!” Ace and Deuce say in unison.

You lean over to look at Ace-tsum who is looking at you with bright, surprised eyes. You say you can take care of it since Ace doesn't want to. Your tsum jumps from your arms to Ace-tsum's side. You add that you have your tsum to help you supervise it and that you already have some experience with an Ace. He blushes a little.

“Wait (Y/N)!” Deuce says.“This is supposed to be Ace and my task. And you already have your tsum to take care of.”

“Don't worry, Deuce. We both can take care of it. Right, Tsum?” Your Tsum agrees and rubs its cheek against Ace-Tsum's cheek. “Better us than someone who treats it like a burden.” But Ace-tsum moves away from your tsum and Ace grabs your arm to pull you with him to talk to you alone.

“You dummy!” He tells you in a lower voice. “Listen, I'm not just trying to get rid of my tsum, okay?! I'm trying to find someone who adores it so much that they would love to fawn over it and take care of it. This will be better than being with someone who is only taking care of it out of obligation.”

You ask, then, why can't you take care of his tsum.

“Because I was trying to get some idiot to do it, not you!”

Then you hear and see that more students have joined the group that fawns over Ace-tsum. And it seemed like they were finding something cute?

You two go back to the table and see your tsums having fun with each other. Ace-tsum was showing magic tricks to your Tsum and seemed happier with your Tsum's surprised reaction than with the students' applause. Your tsum approached Ace-tsum and began to rub their cheeks against each other, like cuddling. Ace blushed again.

“Fine...” Ace gives up. “It seems like it wants to be with your tsum anyway.”

“Why don't we all take care of the tsums together again?” Deuce suggests, “Like we did when mine was here.”

You and your tsum agree.

“Yeah, I guess we can do that.” Ace says, then smirks. “At least now I can split the work between three.”

Surprisingly, Ace's Tsum is much calmer when it's around your Tsum. In addition to being extremely affectionate with your Tsum, it also seems to really enjoy impressing it with magic tricks and things like that. As if it loved having your tsum's attention and affection back, completely ignoring Ace's embarrassment.

Your tsum wanted to go somewhere, so you pick it up and let it guide you out of Ramshackle Dorm. You pass the Botanical Garden and the Alchemy Workshop and arrive at the Hall of Mirrors. Your tsum wants you to cross the mirror to Heartslabyul.

You do so, enter the building and you end up crossing paths with Trey in the hallway. He was carrying a cake container. You feel your tsum move slightly in your arms when it sees him.

“Hello (Y/N).” Trey greets you. “I see your tsum is back.” He smiles at it and you feel it move again. “This time one similar to me showed up too, so I'm also tsumsitting. I assume you're here to see it.” He chuckles seeing you and your tsum nodding. “It is in the lounge. But before that.” He opens the cake container revealing a beautiful cake with icing and grapes decorating it, and some slices already missing. “Do you want to try a slice? Tsum decorated it.”

If you like grapes, he will be happy to see you eating a slice. If you don't like them and are sad because you would like to try the cake, He will suggest that you go to the kitchen and take out just one piece that doesn't have grapes for you to taste.

“Here.” He says taking just a forkful of the icing cake. “This one doesn't have grapes.” He holds out the fork with the piece of cake in your direction.

You can take the fork and eat it yourself or you can eat it while he holds the fork. If you do this last one, he will laugh and then smirk slightly. Independently of what you do, you'll feel your tsum moving in your arms again, but not enthusiastically.

Trey asks if everything is okay with your tsum and you answer that it might be sad because it can't taste the cake, after all tsum don't eat.

“Oh, don't worry.” He says to your tsum with a sweet smile. “You liking the way it looks is good enough already.”

Your tsum makes that happy tsum sound and suddenly jumps out of your arms towards Trey who catches it and you see it nestling in his arms.

“Ha ha ha. Your tsum is more cheeky than mine. No, that's not a bad thing. I find it quite cute actually.”

If you are more outgoing, your tsum will make that happy sound again and smile at him with its eyes. If you are shy, your tsum will shrink a little and hide its face in his arms.

He will, happily, carry your Tsum in his arms to the lounge where his Tsum and other students are, but when the three of you get there...

“Is everyone done? I'll get the dishes - uh...” Trey and you see what appears to be his tsum attacking students with a toothbrush. “What’s going on here?”

Cater explains the whole madness with Tsum wanting everyone to brush their teeth. Trey ends up taking his Tsum's side and the students run to brush their teeth. Cater tries to apologize by saying that it took him longer to eat and even tries to say that he wanted to spend some time with your tsum. But it's no use, both Treys look at him with a menacing smile.

“Ah, I'm sorry! I swear I'll brush therm! Don't come near me with that smile on your face!” And he leaves the lounge as well.

Only Riddle, you, Trey and your two tsums remain. Trey-tsum points his toothbrush at you with that smile.

“Let's give (Y/N) a pass this time.” Trey defends you. “They are from another dorm so their toothbrush and toothpaste are not here.”

Trey-tsum lowers the toothbrush in agreement. Your Tsum jumps out of Trey's arms and lands next to his Tsum. They both make a happy sound and the two begin to rub their cheeks against each other as if cuddling.

“Your tsum is very affectionate, isn't it?” Trey comments with a smile.

Trey-tsum jumps onto your shoulder, presses its face against your cheek as if it were giving you a kiss, and jumps back to your tsum’s side. Then the two jump onto one of the sofas and snuggle up together as if they were nesting.

“How cute.” Riddle comments with a slightly mocking smile seeing Trey blush.

You were taking a walk around the school campus with your tsum in your arms when you heard Jack's voice calling you.

“Hey (Y/N), glad I found you.” Jack says. You turn around and he sees your Tsum in your arms who greets him smiling with its eyes. “Your tsum is back? So you should already know that other tsums have appeared too.”

You say you had already assumed that and ask if he was looking for you.

“More or less. The truth is that I was looking for someone who could help Ruggie with his tsum.”

You feel your tsum move in your arms when it hears Ruggie's name. Jack tells you that everything seemed to be going well between them until they started arguing, or rather fighting over the money they earned. Your tsum has the same reaction as you, probably an unsurprised sigh.

You agree to help and go with Jack to Savanaclaw. You find Ruggie and his tsum in the lounge fighting with each other. Riggie has an envelope in his outstretched hand trying to get it away from the tsum, while the tsum jumps at Ruggie to try to get to the envelope while hitting him.

Your tsum jumps out of your arms and sneaks up on them while they are focused on fighting each other. When it is close enough, it prepares itself and as soon as it sees an opening, it jumps and takes the envelope from Ruggie's hands. Then it runs to you with the envelope where its mouth would be and jumps back into your arms, handing you the envelope.

Ruggie looked at your tsum and you with the most threatening look you've ever seen on him, until he realized it was you and his expression changed drastically and his ears went down. His Tsum's reaction was the same. He even stutters your name in surprise.

“And h-hey, your tsum is back!” He tries to divert the conversation and ease the situation.

You don't fall for that and ask why they were fighting over the money. Ruggie explained to you that he still tried to give 20% to his Tsum since it doesn't need money to eat or things like that and that's why it seemed fair to him. But his tsum didn't like the idea and was trying to keep most of the money.

You ask your own tsum if that money is the same as in the tsum world, basically asking if it would be of any use to Ruggie-tsum, and your tsum shakes its head no.

“See?! It's not even any use to you. And I would be generous enough to give you twenty percent.”

Ruggie's tsum turns against him again, your tsum jumps out of your arms and throws itself at Ruggie-stum, hitting it. But it doesn't hit your tsum to retaliate, instead it tucks its tail between its legs and lowers its ears while your tsum seems to scold it.

Ruggie laughs at that situation and approaches you asking, also with his ears down and his tail between his legs, if you could give him back the envelope. But you reveal that, knowing him, you knew that he was not taking care of the tsum, but rather taking advantage of it to earn more money with its work.

“Hey, The tsum was the one who wanted to work for m- I mean with me. We earned that money by working together by choice.”

“So why not split it fifty-fifty?” You suggest.

“WHAT?! Are you cra-”

“If one of you worked as hard as the other then you deserve the same amount, don't you?”

He tries to bargain by reiterating that Tsums don't need to eat, but you continue the discussion saying that if it's not like that they won't stop fighting and it will never be resolved. If Ruggie keeps rejecting ot, your tsum will throw itself at his head to hit him. And then he will finally give in and split the money 50-50.

After that your tsum will convince Ruggie-tsum to just rest with it, trying to push it onto one of the lounge chairs. But instead Ruggie-tsum seemed to want to play with your tsum and the two of them started play fighting like two cubs. Which ends up looking more like they are hugging and cuddling.

Ruggie comments that despite what happened they seem to really like each other. After playing with each other for a while, Ruggie-tsum will come over to you to see if it can get some petting from you for being so cute. And if so, it'll turn over on its back so you can give it belly rubs. Ruggie will tell you that you're spoiling his tsum while trying not to show that he's jealous.

You find out that a Tsum similar to Jamil has appeared and is with him in Scarabia by crossing paths with Kalim while you were taking a walk with your Tsum around the school campus. Needless to say, Kalim was super happy to see your tsum again.

On the way to Scarabia you could feel the enthusiasm of your tsum. When you arrive, Jamil and his tsum are in the lounge playing a card game.

The two Jamils realize that someone has entered the lounge. They look at whoever has entered just to greet them, but as soon as they see that it is you, they both smile.

“Hello (Y/N). I see your tsum is back.”

Your tsum jumps from your arms and approaches Jamil's tsum. When it gets close enough, they brush each other's cheeks. Jamil blushes and pulls his hood a little tighter.

They will finish the game they were playing and then invite you and your tsum to play with them. You will play against your tsum, Jamil will teach you and his tsum will teach your tsum while you both play. Jamil will try to make you win, while Jamil-tsum is trying to make your tsum win. And perhaps for this reason, he teaches you by whispering in your ear so that the tsums don't hear your plays. Even if you don't win, Jamil will say that you played well and will be happy that you understood how to play.

You play two or three more times. Whenever you or your tsum win, it's because Jamil and his tsum agreed to lose to see you both happy. But in the last round Jamil-tsum climbs onto your lap while your tsum goes onto Jamil's lap. Thus forming pairs for the last round.

While Jamil-tsum helps you with the best moves, Jamil asks your tsum for its opinion with a cute smile. They both know that your tsum can't help him win, but he enjoys interacting with it in the same way he enjoys interacting with you.

The two teams end up tied. There is a good chance that the bouth Jamils planned this result.

You were going to get up so Jamil could prepare something for the two of you to have a snack, when you heard something. The sound of an insect coming in and cetting closer to you. Jamil jumps and runs to the door leaving your tsum behind while his tsum uses you to hide. You feel it trembling against you. The insect lands on one of your cards and you see that it is a... little ladybug.

If your reaction is something like, ‘Aww, a cute ladybug.’ Jamil will complain, outraged.

You ask Jamil to bring you some jar with a lid with holes and leaves inside. When he asks you what for, you say that you're going to put the ladybug inside and release it in Ramshackle Dorm's garden. He thinks you're crazy but that's okay as long as you lock that thing up and take it away. He brings you an empty spice jar with two leaves inside. You ask if they are poisonous plants, he sighs and says no. You smell the leaves and they seem normal.

The ladybug was on your finger, you open the jar to put it inside but it flies back towards Jamil who screams and runs away again. When the ladybug returns, it goes after Jamil-tsum, who also starts to run away through the lounge. The ladybug finally lands on your tsum's head and the two of you put the insect in the jar and close it. You tell Jamil it's done.

When he comes back, you try your best to contain your laughter as you remember him running away from a ladybug, but he notices your little smile and looks at you sullenly, despite thanking you.

Something similar seems to happen with the tsums, but your tsum dosen't contain its laughter and Jamil-tsum attacks it with what appears to be tickles. After your tsum surrenders the two seem to start cuddling each other.

Jamil is embarrassed by this and pulls his hood even further to hide his blushing face.

You were walking around the school campus with your tsum in your arms when you arrived at the Courtyard. A group of Pomefiore students focused on photographing something separated you from Vil and Rook on the other side. You and your tsum noticed that they were photographing Vil's tsum, and it seemed to be enjoying the photoshoot itself.

Your tsum jumps from your arms to the ground and tries to pass between the feet of some students to get closer to Vil-tsum. But those students notice something moving near them and look down at your tsum.

“Aw, it's another tsum.” One of the students says.

“Yeah, but this one doesn't look like anything special.” Another student comments.

“In fact, it looks so ordinary.” A third student agrees. “Could you please not interfere with Vil's Tsum photos?”

Your tsum still tried to advance a little further, but the students stopped it by putting their feet in its way. And even if you were complaining, they didn't care, they were in the middle of a photo shoot, the staff and spectators shouldn't interfere.

“Listen, if your tsum was half as beautiful as Vil's tsum we might still consider it, but I don't believe his tsum would even want to be seen with yours.”

With this, your tsum becomes too sad to keep trying and returns depressed to you. It doesn't even jump into your arms, you have to bend down and pick it up.

Meanwhile, the photo shoot stops abruptly and you hear some students say: “What's wrong?”, “Why do you want to stop suddenly?”, “Did we do something wrong?”, “Have we crossed boundaries?”

You see the students in front of you make way for Vil's tsum. When it sees you, its eyes shine, but when it sees your tsum, sad and curled up in your arms it gets upset and turns aggressively towards the students.

They realize that the tsum is upset with them for insulting your tsum, but it doesn't know which one was and they start saying it was the other one.

“You're the one who said it didn't look like anything special!”

“’In fact, it looks so ordinary.’ that's what YOU said”

“And who said their tsum wasn't even half as beautiful as Vil's tsum?”

“At least have the decency to admit your rudeness.” Vil appears, also unpleased, and with Rook beside him. “None of you have the right to decide who can or cannot approach the tsum. It is the one who decides who deserves such a privilege.”

“What a disappointment to have dormmates with such little tolerance for other unique types of beauty.” Rook says sadly. “And so insensitive too. ‘I don't believe his tsum would even want to be seen with yours.’ Which of you has the courage to claim such a phrase?” Rook looks at the three main suspects with an amused smile but a menacing look.

Both Vil and his tsum got angry upon hearing this.

“It was him!” The other two pointed to the culprit.

“It is also quite ugly to denounce someone so shamelessly.” Vil rebuked them and clapped his hands decisively twice. “The photo shoot is over. Go back to your duties. And the three of you have a meeting scheduled with me later in the Pomefiore dorm. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes Housewarden. We regret our words.”

“I sure hope you do. But that won't lessen your punishment. You may go now.”

As the Pomefiore students leave, the others glaring at the three who insulted your tsum, Vil-tsum turns back to you and jumps into your arms, knowing that you would catch it. It cuddles up to your tsum as if it were comforting it, rubbing their cheeks and giving it kisses, or at least that's what it seemed like since tsum don't have mouths.

“How can they belittle such a demonstration of love and such a beautiful couple!” Rook says dramatically. “Je suis choqué!”

When you start having trouble holding two tsums at once, Vil approaches you and puts his arms around yours to help you.

“I am deeply sorry for the atrocities you heard.” He tells you in a soft voice but then smiled smugly. “You can help me think of an appropriate punishment if you like.”

Knowing that you were having difficulty holding them, your tsums end up jumping from your embrace to the ground. Your tsum still looks a little sad and Vil's tsum doesn't take its attention away from your tsum.

“Don't listen to them.” Vil says to your tsum. “Just because you don't fit their standards doesn't mean you're not beautiful. You should only care about the opinion of those who you really care about and who care about you.” He looks at you. “They are right about one thing, you two look ordinary.” He will smile in amusement if you look at him sulkily. “But who said that was ugly? The beauty of the ordinary is the most difficult to perceive, only those who truly recognize it deserve to appreciate it. And if you want to know my opinion, two extraordinary things become flashy, but one common thing brings balance and harmony. The kind of thing whose value and importance you only realize when it disappears.” He looks back at your tsum. “Don't listen to the opinions of ignorant people.”

Rook was crying with emotion and murmured how beautiful that moment had been. Your tsum, also moved by his words, jumps into Vil's arms. He almost got a fright, but he caught your tsum.

“*sigh* How cheeky.” Vil said, smiling softly. He holds your tsum as if he were holding a beloved baby.

Vil-tsum approaches you calmly, with an aura of dignity and sophistication. You lower yourself, kneeling on the ground and it climbs onto your lap. Like a cat demanding in the way you pet it.

Vil-tsum won't let anyone else take a picture of it unless they want to take a picture of it and your tsum together. If your tsum is too shy and doesn't want to take pictures, then Vil-tsum will also refuse.

Vil's tsum will try to convince him to give you and your tsum a beauty treatment. And if it doesn't succeed the first time, he'll steal Vil's cosmetics for your tsum. But since it's you, Vil ends up accepting.

Vil will have to keep an eye on Rook because he will become obsessed with your tsums together.

Your tsum was restless in Ramshackle Dorm and seemed to want to go somewhere. You picked it up and let it lead you out of the dorm. Your tsum made you pass through the Botanical Garden and the Alchemy Workshop until you reached the Hall of Mirrors, where it made you pass through the mirror that lead to Ignihyde. Once inside it doesn't take long for Ortho to appear to greet you.

“Hi (Y/N)!” He looks at the tsum in your arms. “Oh! You're back too. It's great to see you again! Are you here because of my big brother's tsum?”

And now you know why your tsum wanted to go there. Your tsum nods its little head. Ortho doesn't even bother to tell you where they are because they can only be in one place, but he says he'll have to leave because of the meeting with the Film Research Club and wishes you luck in dealing with his brother and his tsum. You go to Idia's room and knock on the door.

“Ortho? Did you forget something?” Idea asks instead of opening the door.

“No. It's me, (Y/N).”

He stammers your name in surprise. “W-w-w-what are you doing here?!”

You explain that your tsum was the one who took you to Ignihyde and that Ortho told you that an Idia lookalike had also appeared. Suddenly you hear a commotion inside the room and Idia asking in panic what it was doing.

The bedroom door opens. You see Idia lying on the floor in the middle of the room and in front of you an Idia-tsum staring at you. When your eyes meet his, his own sparkle and the blue in his hair takes on pink hues at the tips.

Your tsum jumps out of your arms and lands right on top of Idia-tsum. What no one expected, not even your tsum, was that Idia-tsum's reflex would be to take advantage of this to take your tsum, as if kidnapping it, to a kind of fortress made of cardboard boxes in the corner of the room.

“Welcome to the club.” Idia tells you as he stands up. “It also kidnapped my tablet. Now it has two captives.”

As soon as you enter, the door closes behind you again. You go to the cardboard boxes, kneel down and look inside. You see, through a gap in the boxes, the two tsums very close together playing a co-op game on the tablet.

“S-sorry about that.” Idia tells you embarrassed. “I can't get along with this tsum. I've been trying to get my tablet back for hours but it is so stubborn. ...What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

You think about it and say that if they stay calm like that until it's time for them to go back to their world, there shouldn't be any problems, right?

“OF COURSE THERE IS! MY LOGIN BONUSES! Why do you think I'm trying to get my tablet back?! Listen, I don't care what the tsums do as long as they don't cause me any problems or interfere with my games. And this tsum manages to do both. My room wasn't this disorganized before, but it keeps fighting me. You're good with delinquents, help me!”

If your tsum is really like you, it wants to get Idia-tsum out of those cardboard boxes like you want to get Idia out of his room. Which means if you have an idea you know your tsum will help you. You think about that co-op games and how Idia can be competitive when he believes he have a good chance of winning. Aka: in video games.

So you have an idea, but to do so you have to whisper the idea in the Idia's ear so the tsums don't hear. When you get closer he gets flustered. You suggest playing a 2 vs 2 game and invite the tsums to play, and encourages him to be as provocative as possible to ensure that his tsum accepts the challenge.

“And then what?" He whispers back to you "We'll have to entertain it while I get the tablet back.”

“I can handle that part.” you guarantee him.

You both follow the plan, luckily Idia has 4 controllers, probably because they are all different models. At first, Idia-tsum doesn't fall into the trap, but soon Idia's smugness kicks in

“Of course you don't accept the challenge. You don't even have opposing thumbs, how could you beat us?” The boxes move. “Or is it because you're a noob?” The boxes move again and it looks like Idia has an idea for the ultimate strike. “Oh, I see, it’s because your teammate is a normie who sucks at games.”

One of the boxes jumps like a spring and almost hits Idia in the face, as if whatever was underneath it had exploded. Idia-tsum jumps towards one of the controls with an irritated look and his hair completely red. Idia himself gives one of those scared YEPs, but for some reason he smiles when he sees that reaction from his tsum.

Your tsum jumps to the other controller next to Idia-tsum who looks at it and waves like a true duo preparing for battle. Idia gets prepered beside you and gives you a similar determined smile before he starts the game.

During the fighting game, it was as if Idia had forgotten about his tablet and whenever it seemed like you were having trouble he would get upset on your behalf and defend your character with his. His tsum did the same to your tsum.

It was only at the end of the round that Idia suddenly remembered the tablet and jumped out of his chair to pick it up from the floor next to the cardboard boxes. His tsum did the same thing, but you managed to catch it in time and held it in your arms with a strong hug. It struggled at first, but when it remembered that it was you who was grabbing it, its hair turned completely pink and it covered its eyes with its little hands.

“I collected...”  Idia raises the tablet in his hands. “The Tablet!”

He looks at you with a triumphant smile, but if you are giving his tsum affection and kisses because it’s so cute, the tips of Idia's hair will also turn pink and he will be flustered.

Your tsum will jump right up to his face and give him some affection too, like rubbing its little face against his cheek.

“H-h-h-h-have you never heard of personal space?!”

You were walking with your tsum in your arms around the school campus when Lilia suddenly appeared.

“You're back!” Lilia surprises you and your tsum by appearing upside down in front of you. “Hi (Y/N)-tsum. It's so good to see you again. This is actually perfect.” He turns around and puts his feet on the ground. “You see, a Malleus-like tsum also appeared.” You feel your tsum move happily in your arms. “And Malleus decided to throw a party for it. I was looking for you to invite you, but now that I see that your tsum is back I know that both Malleus would love to have both of you at the party.

Your tsum gets so excited that it almost falls out of your arms.

“Good thing you're excited, because we're already late. Come with me. The party has already started.”

Lilia accompanies you and your tsum to Diasomnia. The lounge is full of Diasomnia students paying attention to Malleus and his tsum. Lilia asks you to follow him down the stairs and when you reach the last step the students in front of you look at you and respectfully make way between you and the two Malleus. Like soldiers taking positions on both sides of the road.

The two Malleus look confused to see what the students were doing and when the two tsums' eyes meet your tsum jumps out of your arms and hops towards Malleus-tsum very quickly. Some of the students (Sebek included) took one step forward to stop your tsum from "attacking" Malleus' tsum, but stop immediately at Lilia's signal.

Malleus-tsum did not move, excitedly waiting for your tsum to reach it. Your tsum did indeed attack Malleus' tsum, but with love and affection. Your tsum gave it a lot of affection and Malleus' tsum simply accepted it with smiling eyes, only occasionally reciprocating the affection. Malleus also looked at your tsum with a special affection in his eyes.

You approached the tsums to get a better look at Malleus’s. It approached you with that dignity that Malleus himself also has, looked at you for a few seconds and bowed. All the other students at Diasmonia suddenly did the same. Even Sebek, although he did so a little reluctantly.

You bowed back and asked if you could pet it. The other students looked at you again with extreme attention and some held their breath. Malleus-tsum pondered, creating suspense in the lounge, but then it made that happy tsum sound and jumped into your arms, super happy. It accepts any and all affection coming from you and it doesn't matter how strong your hug is, just like Malleus his tsum is also extremely strong and resistant.

Meanwhile, your tsum also jumps into Malleus' arms without warning. Hence the students' gasps echoing through the lounge.

“So fearless, jumping towards me like that.” Malleus smiled smugly. “You really don't fear that I might crush you?”

The other students were wary, but your tsum didn't seem to care what he was saying and jumped onto the top of his head, nestling between his two horns. Once again the students gasped in fear. Only Lilia and Silver were calm. Lilia was laughing.

“My liege, please forgive this insulting-” Sebek said, but was quickly interrupted by Malleus's good-natured laughter.

“How cheeky. I wonder who gave you permission to go up there.” He raises his arm to bring his hand closer to your Tsum in his head, touching its little nose affectionately before patting its head.

While you were hugging Malleus-tsum, one of its horns stung your cheek. It immediately stopped and looked at you worriedly when it heard you say ‘ouch’. When it realized it had hurt you, its little eyes watered. You said it was okay, that it hadn't really hurt you, it was just a little sting, you were fine, you hadn't even gotten a mark. But even so, you had to keep comforting it.

After that, Malleus-tsum wanted to dance with you and Malleus with your tsum. You did so. And the next one, the two tsums wanted to dance together. Following this same logic, Malleus invited you to dance.

At the end of the party, when your tsum gets tired, Malleus-tsum will accompany it to you and Malleus who are sitting together. But your tsum will lie on Malleus' lap, and he will pet it lovingly. Likewise, Malleus-tsum will lie down on your lap, even if it is not tired. It is extremely happy for you to pet it.

Malleus laughs happily when your tsum turns over onto its back so he can give it belly rubs.

Malleus-tsum looks at you and Malleus and thinks you're not close enough. It jumps from your lap to your side and gives you a little nudge on the leg with one of its little horns. You jump and lean against Malleus. You apologize, but Malleus still puts an arm around you. And now satisfied, his tsum returns to your lap, which is so close to Malleus' lap that the two tsums can nestle together too.

You were walking around the school campus with your tsum, but it got tired of always walking in your arms and now it was jumping around by your side.

You were crossing the bridge that led to the Mystery Shop grounds when your tsum, who was jumping on the edge of the bridge, slipped and fell into the water below you. The current took your tsum to the lake in front of the Hall of Mirrors building, you followed it running. Your tsum managed to grab onto a ledge in the rocks very close to the waterfall.

You didn't know what to do. You couldn't get down there and there was nothing to help you.

But at that moment something jumped into the water near your Tsum, grabbed onto it and grew so big that it was blocking the passage to the waterfall. It was Silver's tsum!

And speaking of him, Silver appears right after and uses his magic to make your tsum levitate and fly back into your arms. But what about his tsum? The water coming from the lake was accumulating and creating more pressure on the tsum.

But the two Silvers seemed to understand each other well and the Tsum quickly returned to its normal size and let itself fall down the waterfall, but Silver managed to use his magic to catch it in the middle of the fall and bring it back to land safe and sound.

Your tsum jumped out of your arms to hug Silver-tsum, who hugged it back, or at least the tsum version of a strong and affectionate hug.

If you do the same to Silver to thank him, he will be surprised at first, but will hug you back gently with a smile on his face.

“I'm glad you and your tsum are safe now.” Silver tells you. “My tsum and I fell asleep nearby. We both woke up to the sound of something falling into the water and your fright.”

Neither your tsum nor silver's tsum wanted to let go of each other.

“Were you heading back to your dorm? We will accompany you.”

He used his magic to dry your tsum and you for grabbing it right after it came out of the water. Your tsums seemed to agree on something and then your tsum jumped into Silver's arms while Silver-tsum jumped into yours. Your tsum was nestling in Silver's arms, while his tsum was on guard and alert to your surroundings.

“I think they want me to protect your tsum while my lookalike protects you.” Silver assumes, placing his arms protectively around your tsum.

You go to Ramshackle Dorm together and as soon as you arrive in the lounge, your two tsums go to the sofa and snuggle up very close. And now in a safe place and next to your tsum, Silver-tsum falls asleep very soundly. Both you and your tsum find it funny how soft he looks when he sleeps so deeply.

“There goes another attempt to stay awake for as long as possible.” Silver says smiling, also finding it funny. “But I can't blame it. I also feel very relaxed around you.”

You stay with your tsums in the lounge. There's a good chance Silver will fall asleep next to you. Or on your lap if you let him.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[aria0fgold]

I don't know what I'm doing with this fic's story anymore at this point, I'm just doing feck all but somehow it's also so fun to just... make it a lil wacky.

[gojonanami]

I WANNA SHOW YOU OFF - SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: aka sugar daddy! gojo. when you accompany your friends to a bar rich men and women frequent, you catch the eye of a certain white-haired rich man, who is more than willing to spoil you -- in more than one way. ✴︎ contents: 18+, a lot of smut, fluffy, sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, virgin!reader, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), but w/ feelings, semi-public sex, sex in a changing room, lingerie, nipple play, first time sex ✴︎ wc: 9,065

This had to be the dumbest idea you had let yourself be convinced to do. 

You sat in a bar, nursing a soda instead of a drink (because it was all you could afford), and you glanced at your group of friends who had all split off to chat up a different man. And meanwhile, there you were, at the bar alone. 

Your friends had seen a video or article online with a list of places that rich men tended to frequent, and after another dinner of instant ramen and looking at your dwindling bank account, you let yourself be dragged along to this bar.

You were surprised how easy it was for you all to be let in, but you supposed young clientele also helped to attract the rich ones the bar was really after. It was the perfect place to find a sugar daddy, or mommy. In your case, you were hoping to just find someone who would pay your bills month to month and possibly your tuition. But now you were just hoping someone would talk to you, much less anything else. 

You had sat here for about twenty minutes, and not a single person had approached you — you had felt a few men and women alike eye you, but none had spoken even a word to you. Heat crept up your cheeks and insecurities bit at your nerves as you stirred your drink absentmindedly — you were such an idiot— you should have just stayed in today, snuggled up in bed and watched Netflix—

“Mind if I sit here?” And your gaze snaps from your flat soda, ocean blue eyes stopping your breath in its tracks, his lips curled in all too tempting smile, and his snowy locks just tousled enough to look natural. 

“Not at all,” you manage to say, surely you were gonna catch flies if you didn’t pick up your jaw off the floor. He was gorgeous — as he slid into the stool beside you, his baby blue button up showed off his toned physique, his sleeves rolled up, as he looked over the menu. 

“Can I order you a drink?” a smile on his lips as he offered you the menu — non-presumptuous and didn’t order your drink for you — was he even real? 

“Just another soda, I don’t drink often, and I’m the designated driver for tonight,” though, as you glanced at your groupchat, you didn’t think many of your friends would be making it back tonight, at least not with you. 

“A woman after my own heart— two sodas please,” he ordered, “I’m not a huge fan of alcohol either. I prefer things that are sweet,” and his gaze slides over your body, “are you?” 

And you flush, trying to look nonchalant as your drinks arrive, “Take a guess,” and he hums, as he takes a careful sip of his drink, eyeing you. 

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t guess — I intend to know,” your eyes snap to his, playful mirth in his eyes, “and if you have a price, I’m more than willing to pay it,” he places his platinum credit card on the bar, sliding it to the bartender, “start a tab for me and the beauty right here,” he flashed a wink at you. 

Even though this is exactly what you had come “You don’t have to—“ 

“But I want to,” he leans forward, his lengthy fingers brushing against your hand, giving you ample time to withdraw, but you don’t, your fingers intertwining with his, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles, “you deserve to be taken care of, sweetheart,” 

You bite your lip, “and how do you know that? You don’t know me,” 

And he tilts his head, a wry grin on his face, “I know enough, baby, and I know that I want to be the one to take care of you,” he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing it against your palm, “now what do you say? I’m sure we can reach an agreement that you’d enjoy,” and his other hand brushes your thigh lightly, “and that I’d enjoy as well,” 

Your lips part as you stare at him — he could have anyone he wanted, that much was clear — the wealth, the affluence, not to mention his charm and looks — but he wanted you. 

And who were you to say no? 

He dropped you home that night, having his driver fetch your car for you after. You both sat in the back of his town car, his hand resting on your thigh, as he spoke to you, his breath warming your skin, as he leaned against you. He didn’t ask to come in or to take you to his place, instead he helped you out of his car, walking you to your apartment’s doorstep. His fingers resch inside his coat pocket, and handed you his business card, his personal number scrawled on the back. 

His fingers ghost over your jaw, as he tilts your chin up, the low buzz of the overhead light drowned out by your heart thumping against your ribcage, “Call me, ok?” And you nod wordlessly, breath hitching as he drew close. 

“Good girl,” he smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, “I’ll talk to you soon,” he winks, before heading back to his car, “you won’t regret it.” 

But here you sat, staring at his business card the next morning, the only proof that what happened wasn’t a dream, as you lie awake, staring at the number typed into your phone. 

Satoru Gojo. 

How do you do this? Hey it’s the person you hit on at a bar and propositioned to be a sugar baby? 

But you couldn’t get him out of your head — it wasn’t just the money, he was…smooth. 

Fuck it. 

You go to text him, but fate is cruel, and you hit the call button by mistake. You end the call quickly, and contemplate throwing your phone out the window, when your phone starts flashing with the exact number you had called. 

Double fuck. 

You panicked, as it rang, then taking a breath and picking the call up, “Hello?” 

“Gotta hand it to you, sweetheart, didn’t think you’d be so bold to call me,” Satoru is chuckling over the line, the sounds of the road in the background, and it was clear he was driving somewhere, “but it’s a pleasant surprise,” 

“Is it?” you ask, and he hums, a noise that sends heat across your cheeks. 

“Very,” he cuts to the chase, cutting over any of the silence that could linger, “could we have dinner tonight?” 

“Tonight?” 

“I don’t like to waste time when it comes to things I want,” and you’re glad he can’t see you — your knuckles pressed against your lips, “are you free?” 

“I am,” you say slowly, “but I wanted to ask, after dinner what would the expectations be?” You had no idea how any of this worked, what the arrangement would be, or how it would be handled. 

“There are no expectations except for your time,” he says, “we can take this at your pace, your rules, your limits - we are getting to know each other, and we both happen to want more, I’d be more than happy to make that happen,” and his words nearly make you shiver, “does that sound good, princess?” 

“Perfect,” you murmur, and he chuckles, “what time—” 

“7:00 PM — I’ll send a car for you. I have your address noted, and I have a little dress picked out for you if you’re comfortable with that?” 

You hold your burning cheeks, “Sounds too good to be true,” 

And he hums, “Well, perfect,” he echoes you, “because that’s what we both are.” 

The car is prompt when picking you up, and your roommates help you get ready — thoroughly jealous when they see a selfie the two of you had taken that night. And then the doorbell rings, and the three of you are rushing towards the door. 

“Tell us everything don’t miss a detail,” your roommates yell-whisper, “hot, charming, and so rich? I hate you,” 

And you shush them opening the door, as Satoru stands in a blue button up, simple slacks, and a grin that made your knees nearly buckle, “Well I am rich, she ain’t lying,” he offers you a bouquet of flowers — your favorites, all arranged perfectly, “and I’d like to think I’m the others as well,” 

“Satoru, they’re beautiful,” you inhale their scent, before you furrow your brow, “how did you know—“ 

“Lucky guess,” he smiled, fingers finding your own, “I guess we have the same taste in flowers, beautiful — great minds,” and he plucks the flowers and hands it to your roommates, “please take care of these, and I’ll be sure to take care of your gorgeous friend,” 

And he’s whisking you into the car, opening the door for you, as he slides in beside you, his arm sliding behind you, “do you mind?” 

And your heart squeezes, he’s so close, you could smell his cologne — a musky, amber smell mixed with his own scent — his strong arm brushing against your back, and as you peered up at him, a smile on his parted lips, as he stared at you with his cerulean gaze. 

“Not at all.” 

God, you were in trouble. 

“How’d you like this to work, sweetheart?” And you nearly choke on your drink at his blunt question, dinner now finished, as the two of you wait for dessert, his lips curled in his perfect smile as always, “I just want us to have an understanding, so I don’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” 

You shake your head, “No, you’re right,” dinner had gone on fine — the restaurant he picked was impeccable, the prices must have been astronomical (not a single price on the menu itself), and the atmosphere of the corner booth gave the perfect illusion of privacy, “we should talk about it,” 

The financial aspect is simple enough — he offers a stipend that was more money than you could fathom and even consider accepting — but after discussion, you settle on him paying for your tuition and other educational needs as well as a monthly stipend. 

“But this doesn’t include anything I choose to treat you to,” he smiles, fingers toying with the hem of the dress, making you almost shiver under his touch, “like this dress or this dinner,” 

“Fine,” you smile, gaze still shying away, “there’s still the matter of what I do for you,” you bite your lip, swirling your drink in its glass, “I’ve never done this before,” you admit, tucking a stray strand behind your ear, and he tilts his head. 

“Nooo, I would have mistaken you for a pro,” he teases, and your cheeks flush, as you sip your drink, mostly for bravery  — that was true, you had never done the sugar daddy thing — but that wasn’t what you meant. 

“I mean that too, I’ve never had this sort of arrangement, but,” you toy with the napkin spread across your lap, “I’ve also never…been with anyone before,” 

And he pauses mid-sip of whatever fruity drink he had ordered — more juice than alcohol (he didn’t prefer the taste of liquor), “At all?” 

You flush, swallowing thickly, as your eyes looked down at your lap, “I’ve been on dates, but never beyond hand holding — I’ve never let it get beyond that,” you never had much an interest, and the people you were interested in had never truly reciprocated— until, you glance at Satoru, now. 

He sets his glass down, his lips curled, “but with us — you think there’s a chance that—“ and you squirm under his gaze, “of well—“ 

And his gaze softens, “You never have to feel obligated to do that — no matter what we agree on for what I can do to help accommodate you, I don’t want you to feel like I’m paying a price for your body,” before he adds with a cheeky smile, “unless that turns you on,” 

You huff a laugh out, chewing on your lip, “I appreciate that, but,” you finish the rest of your drink, before sliding closer in the booth, your thigh pressing against his, “I want to know what it’s like,” and you lean forward, all too close, but he dares even closer. 

His fingers find your jaw, tilting your gaze up, “And you’re sure, Princess?” his breath warms your lips, and you can smell the sweet smell of his drink on his, “there’s no rush,” 

“Who said anything about rushing?” you murmur, and you don’t know if it's the intoxication from the alcohol or from Satoru Gojo himself, but your lips graze his first, barely even. Your lips parted as you brushed your lips for a moment, before sliding away a centimeter, “Satoru—”

But his lips find yours again, fingers cupping your cheek gently, thumb gliding along the soft slope of your cheekbone, “You’re right, you’re not something to be rushed,” he murmurs, words as smooth as velvet, “you’re something to be savored,” and his lips slide against yours, swallowing your gasp as he deepens the kiss with the tilt of your heads, before he’s pulling away, allowing you a moment, “does that mean I’m your first kiss?” 

And you nod, with kiss ruined lips parted and chest rising and falling, eyes half lidded with pleasure and excitement — all of which makes him want to kiss you breathless, kiss you silly until you have no thoughts but of him, “I’m sure I’m not yours,” you tease, a small smile on your lips, but a slight anxiety about your inexperience lingering in your words. 

He only chuckles, wrapping his arm around you to draw you closer, one hand cupping your jaw and the other sliding through your locks, “But you’re the only one that matters, sweetheart,” and he’s kissing you again, and your lips begin to learn the dance he was teaching you, as he steals your breath and sense in one fell swoop. And when his tongue asks for entrance, he swallows your gasp with a smile, as you part your lips for him. And you swear you almost hear him murmur, “good girl,” between fevered kisses and touches.

Now, his body leaning into you, pressing you against the plush leather of the booth, his hand rested on your thigh now, toying with the hem of the very same dress he had bought you, “Satoru,” you sigh, as your lips finally part a moment, foreheads resting against each other. His eyes take you in, kiss bitten red lips, your cheeks flushed. 

His lips kiss your cheeks, and then your forehead, “I think I should take you home,” his thumb rubs against your lips, pulling at the bottom one.

“What about dessert?” and he shakes his head. 

“There’s only one dessert I’m craving at the moment,” he murmurs, crystal eyes lidded with lust, as he cups your cheek, “and I wouldn’t be keeping my promise if I indulged, now would i?” 

“And if I offered…dessert?” and he makes a noise — a cross between a hiss and a sigh, before shaking his head. 

“I want to do this right,” he murmurs, “I know this isn’t a relationship, but it’s like one — and I want you to enjoy it, and if we rush into things, you may end up getting hurt, and not in the enjoyable way,” he pinches the soft flesh of your thigh teasingly, “let’s get you home, princess, and we can plan our next outing, and our next step,” 

And you rise, as he helps you out of the booth, as the waiter comes over, “Have you changed your mind about dessert?”

Satoru hands him his card, paying off the tab without even a glance at the receipt, “Yes, I had something far more sweeter and satisfying,” he winks at you, as he pockets his card again. He escorts you to the car, hand resting on the small of your back, his side pressed to yours, as if he was afraid you’d slip away any moment. 

The car ride home was spent with quiet conversation and stolen kisses, your hand slid up his thigh to tease him, as his lips slide over a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, both of you moaning lowly, as he stares at you with lidded eyes, “You sure you’ve never done this before?” 

“Promise,” you flush, a rush of pride settling into heat as you saw the way he looked at you, before your lips find his again, “but you make me never want to stop,” and he growls lowly, leaning forward his hand snaking around your waist to nearly pin you down on the seat. 

“Say more words like that and I may lose the hint of self control I have,” he groans, and he’s kissing you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth again, as you slide your hand into his hair, finding smoothness underneath his white locks — an undercut, fuck. 

“Maybe I want you to,” you murmur, and he pulls back to look at you with his crystal gaze, dark pools of lust that made you shiver, his fingers digging into your waist. 

“Don’t tempt me,” and he’s about to kiss you again, when the driver clears his throat, and the two of you glance out the tinted window and realize you have arrived back home. And the fact of the matter was the car hadn’t been moving for quite some time. 

You bite your lip, “Do you want to—” 

And he kisses you softly, his fingers tracing over your jaw, “I want to, but we should take this slow,” he presses another kiss to your cheek that only serves to make me pout, “it will be worth it,” and he leans in to kiss your other cheek, but you turn your head to meet his lips in another kiss, making his breath catch, as you pull away with a smirk. His lips parted, as his gaze darkens, “such a tease, princess — I was thinking you were an angel that I was corrupting, but maybe you’re the one doing the corrupting.” 

“As I should be,” you grin, before pulling open the door, moving to slide out of the car, “call me?” 

“If I don’t, I can always count on you calling me first,” he teases with a wink, “I’ll call tomorrow, dream of me, ok?” 

“And if I don’t?” and he laughs, leaning forward with that smile that always made your heart stammer in your chest. 

“Oh, you will.” 

“Satoru,” you whined, “can we—” 

“So impatient,” Satoru chides, chuckle rumbling from his chest, voice deliciously raspy from the makeout session they had just had, “forgot how needy you are, baby,” 

And how could you not be? Splayed across his lap, your back pressed to his chest, thighs spread across his now very damp slacks, your dress riding up on either side as his hands slid up your bare legs, his touch teasing enough to have you on edge, your panties growing more drenched by the moment. 

“I need—” 

“You don’t know what you need,” Satoru murmurs, as his fingers brush your hair aside, “do ya, baby? You just want—” and his fingers finally tease your inner thigh, “more, don’t you? Such a greedy little princess,” 

“Only for you,” and that makes him groan in your ear, his lips pressing a kiss behind it, before sucking at your earlobe, “please, Satoru,”

“We have a shopping trip planned, baby, gotta get you some new clothes for our little vacation, don’t we?” He hums, his fingers toying with the edge of your panties, “especially since you keep ruining all of yours,” 

“You’re the one ruining them, baby,” you pout, your lips pressing wet kisses along his jaw, “I know we promised to take it slow, but please, I’ve been so good— don’t I deserve a little reward?” 

He hums, two fingers pulling and snapping the elastic of your panties against your skin, “Let’s go shopping and I’ll see about your reward, Princess,” and your lips purse, as he chuckles, lips pressing against yours, “don’t worry it will be worth the wait.” 

And it was. 

That was how you ended up in this particular predicament, pressed against a changing room wall, the black dress he had insisted on you trying on for him, hiked up around your waist, as his thumb pressed against your puffy clit. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, pretty baby?” Satoru coos, his finger beginning to press against the growing wet patch on your panties, “wanted to reward you, and you look so pretty and perfect in this dress, how can I resist?” 

And a whine leaves your throat, and he tuts, “Not so loud, don’t want the other shoppers to hear what we’re doing,” and his fingers finally pull aside the crotch of your soaked underwear, “you’re so fuckin’ wet, baby, you sure this pussy is a virgin?” 

“Satoru, please,” and he pulls your lips into a sloppy kiss, all tongue and teeth, right as his finger finally sinks into your needy cunt. He swallows your moans eagerly, as his thick finger curls against your gummy walls, reaching places you were never able to by yourself. 

“So fuckin’ tight, sweetheart, gonna break my finger, how would I fit my cock in this tight cunt?” And he drags his bulge against your ass, making you gasp at the size of it, “Gonna have to stretch it out, make you nice and loose for me,” 

“Fuck,” you whisper, and he’s grinning as his lips press sweet kisses against your neck, his finger pumping in and out slowly, your slick squelching as he does, finger brushing against that spot that has your knees nearly buckling, “Satoru, I—“ 

“Already gonna cum, baby?” he’s humming, while your lips try and fail to pout, mouth falling open in a silent moan as your walls flutter around his finger, as he fucks you through your orgasm.

But he’s not stopping, as your hand reaches for him, he’s caught you by the wrist, a second finger sinking into your dripping cunt now, “not done with you yet, pretty baby, I know you got more left for me,” he’s scissoring and stretching your walls - curling his fingers just right so he hits that special spot of yours. And it isn’t long until you’re cumming again, his hand covering your mouth, muffling your moan as you ride his fingers. 

“Satoru, please,” you’re nearly crying from the overstimulation, but you’re refusing to use your safe word, as he guides you and him to the seat in the fitting room, sitting on his lap right across from the mirror. 

“Look at you, all fucked out and pretty for me,” his fingers under your chin forces you to look at yourself —- your cunt dripping and spread open, his fingers plunged inside you still, your slick dripping down his hand, “so perfect for me,” he murmurs, “think you have one more for me?” 

His fingers move slowly, parting your walls, making you gasp, “Too sensitive,” you whine, but he’s sliding your lips against yours again, as his fingers begin to push into you, “Satoru,” 

“C’mon baby, this is your reward,” he’s grinning against your lips, “just relax and enjoy it,” 

And you don’t know how many more times he makes you cum. By the end, the dress you’re wearing was ruined, damp from the cum dripping down your thighs, “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it,” he’s cleaning you up, before sliding your underwear back into place, “now let’s find some other clothes for you, baby — need to get you out of this dress now, don’t we?” 

“Do you want to stay over?” Satoru murmurs, his lips pressed to your neck, making you pause, “I’d stay over at your place, but with your roommates we’ll have an audience,” and he adds, “unless you’re into that,” 

And you roll your eyes, before smiling, “what would staying over entail?” 

“Anything you’d want it to,” he’s kissing your cheek, and then your jaw, and then your lips,“I just want to wake up with you — maybe make breakfast together, maybe a little more if you want to,” 

“That sounds perfect,” and you knew just what you wanted for breakfast. 

“Princess,” he hissed, his ocean blue eyes half lidded as he stared at you between his thighs, “this isn’t what I meant when I said I’d make you breakfast,” 

And you pressed a kiss to his weeping tip — you never expected a cock to be so pretty — but why wouldn’t it be on Satoru Gojo? If a higher being existed, it gave with both hands when it came to him — the tip was flushed red, every vein and curve was perfect, and it was so long. 

“Well this was exactly what I had in mind,” you grinned, your tongue flicked against his slit, collecting the pearl of precum resting there, “couldn’t wait to taste you, Toru — if I couldn’t have you fuck my cunt, I might as well have you fuck my mouth,” 

He swallows thickly at your words, adam’s apple bobbing, crystalline pools clouded with lust, “Careful what you wish for, Princess,” 

“I’m always careful,” you suckle at the swollen tip of his cock sloppily, drawing a moan from his lips. It was clear you were inexperienced — your lips and tongue were clumsy, your fingers grasping at his base were unsure, but the heat in your eyes only made all of your inexperience all the more arousing, “tell me what to do,” 

And Satoru swallows thickly, eyes fluttering down at you, as his lips slowly curl, “start by sucking at the tip, slowly at first,” and you do just as he says, all too eager, making him liable to cum on the spot, “now trace the slit at the tip with your tong—” and he grunts as you’re already doing as he says before his sentence is done, “good girl,” and the praise sends a wave of heat through your body, your needy cunt growing wetter by the second.

“Now, want you to slide my cock into your mouth, mind your teeth,” he warns, “no rewards for bad girls who bite my dick — that’s a lesson for a different day,” he adds with a wink, making you hum around his cock, making it twitch, as you take more of his length, slowly sliding it further into your warm mouth. 

He’s grunting, holding himself back from fucking your mouth then and there — there would be time for that, but right now, he needed to teach you right. 

He was a teacher — first and foremost. 

“Just like that, pretty,” he’s moaning, his fingers gently gripping your head, guiding your mouth up and down his cock, “that’s it — fuuuuck—” and he’s hissing when your fingers toy with his balls, as your tongue traces over his veins, forcing every muscle in his thighs from having you deep throat his cock then and there, “now can you—” 

And you suck at his cock, lips wrapped around, as you stare up at him, eyes lidded with lust, thighs pressed together, as you slurped at his cock, your tongue flicking at his slit, “baby, you sure you’ve never done this before?” and his hips begin to stutter against you, making you gasp around his length, “so fucking perfect for me, baby — know what I like without even trying,” 

And how is he this fucking close already? Is he the virgin or are you? His hips roll into your mouth shallowly, your fingers finding what couldn’t fit in your mouth and stroking it, all while his fingers grasp at the mussed sheets below him, ���fuck, sweetheart, ‘m s’close,” and you’re only re-doubling your efforts, cheeks hollowing around him, “you don’t have to—“ but you suck at the tip, tongue laving at his length, and he’s spurting his load down your throat. 

His head falls back, as his hips stutter into your mouth, fingers tugging at your hair, drawing a moan from your lips. And his half lidded eyes falling to your lips around his cock, his cum slipping down the corner of your mouth as you continue to swallow.

“Fuck, baby,” he’s panting, hissing at the sight of you as you pull your lips away from his length, strings of his cum and your spit connecting your mouth to his cock, “such a good fucking girl,” he says, nearly a growl, “my good fucking girl,” 

You’re smiling up at him, watery eyes, as your tongue darts out to clean up his release from your mouth, making his breath catch, “You taste so good, Toru,” and god, you’re so cute — he wanted to spoil you, buy you the whole world and more, and he catches your thighs rubbing together — but first— 

And he’s manhandling you, fingers sinking into your thighs and he’s flipping you onto your back, his chest still heaving, sweat glistening on his forehead, and a grin on his lips. 

“My turn,” he murmurs, sliding his lips against yours, tongue tasting his release on your mouth, before kissing down your body, before he’s settling between your thighs. 

—he was going to have his breakfast. 

The semester wore on and Satoru became more and more busy with work. His messages became few and far between, and your time together dwindled to nothing. Although he still sent the stipend each month, you found your thoughts wandering to him far too often — daydreams between paragraphs of reading and review for an exam that you didn’t particularly care about. 

This should be the dream right? Money for essentially no effort. You had long forsaken the days of ramen noodle dinners and scraping by on your loans — you should be happy. You could go where you wanted, do what you wanted — but why was the only place you wanted to be was with Satoru? You pulled out your phone, refreshing the notifications over and over as if it would change the outcome — but it didn’t — still no new messages from him. 

Was he really busy with work? Anxiety begins to creep into your mind — or was he busy with someone else? Had he been hanging onto you on the back burner — waiting for someone better to come along? You open Satoru’s text chain — the last message sent was your own — and you chew on your bottom lip. 

Were you about to break your own rule about double texting? 

You type — Hey, just wanted to check on you. Been thinking about you a lot. 

You delete it. Is this desperate? What if he thinks you’re desperate? You’re running your hand over your face, pressing your knuckles against your lips.  

Fuck it. You type the same message and send it. 

Oh, it’s worse. Texting and having to wait for a response is worse — and now you simultaneously want to constantly check your phone and also chuck it in a lake. You lay back on your bed, turning and burying your face in your pillow. 

What the fuck were you doing? 

Several hours pass, and you place your phone in the kitchen, as you sit in your room, trying to focus on studying for your exams, instead of thinking about whether Satoru texted you back or not. You finally allow yourself a break at dinner time, and wander out, spotting a few texts from Satoru. Your heart squeezes as you pick up your phone and check. 

Hey baby, is that your way of saying you miss me? 

Because I miss you too. 

When’s your last exam? 

You bite back a smile — it’s on this Friday — I’ll be done at 6:00 PM. 

He types, and then stops, then types again, and then stops. Then he sends a simple “ok.” 

And you don’t hear from him again, which only makes the rest of the week a delight to get through. You’re sure you scraped by on your exams — Friday didn’t come soon enough, but it had arrived. You stretch as you leave the exam hall — bundled up in your jacket, as you make your way back to your apartment. But only, you're not the only one outside the building. 

Satoru stands, leaning against the side of the car, eyes on his phone as he stands in a long deep gray winter coat, a cream sweater underneath, looking utterly too perfect. He glances up, cerulean blue eyes finding yours, lips curling in a smile that you hoped was only reserved for you. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” and you’re holding yourself back from running, quickly walking over, and he’s closing the gap as well, pulling you into his arms, his arms sliding over your jacket — “is this all you’re wearing? We need to buy you a warmer coat,” 

“Satoru,” you’re shaking your head at his priorities, your fingers sliding over his front before sliding them under his jacket, “what are you doing here?” 

“Well, my project finished up earlier today, so I spent the day preparing a little surprise,” he’s tilting your chin up, leaning down to brush his lips against your jaw, and you shiver — most assuredly not from the cold, “we’re going on a trip,” 

“A trip?” you blink, utterly too distracted by his lips placing wet kisses up and down your jaw, nearing your lips, but always stopping short, “where—” 

“A hot spring — I thought we could use some rest and relaxation,” his lips hover right over your own, his thumb dragging down your bottom lip, “and some privacy — I reserved us a private hot spring,” and his palms slide down to your hips and squeeze, “just you and me,” 

“That sounds amazing — wonder what else you have planned,” your lips lean up and brush against his, making his curl into a smile, and your heart stirs — god, you didn’t care about the money, about the amenities, about the dates — he could have just taken you for a walk and you’d be happy by his side, “I missed you so much, Toru,” 

And he’s kissing you again, his hand sliding back to hold the back of his neck, deepening the kiss before he pulls away. You’re panting as he does, lips kiss bitten red, “I did too, baby, it was so difficult being without you — kept thinking about seeing you. I had to hold myself back from seeing you the minute you texted,” he’s sighing, “but that’s why I thought this weekend would be perfect — spend it just with each other, no distractions,” 

“Toru,” you murmur, “I need to tell you something,” you can’t hold back — you need to tell him, you need him to know, and his lips press into a pout, forehead wrinkled, “I think I have feelings for you — more than what our relationship should have,” your cheeks flush, eyes falling to the ground, and you watch your breath warm the cold air, “I don’t know if you feel the same or if we should stop, but I needed you to know because I—” 

And his finger rests against your lips, eyes nearly shining in the moonlight, “You really mean that, sweetheart?” and you swallow the lump in your throat, before nodding. And he grins, before his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, pulling you impossibly closer, wrapping you in his jacket as he presses himself against you, “I have feelings for you too — I have for a while,”

“You—do?” you manage between kisses and breathes, and you look up at him with wide eyes and parted lips — and you’re so impossibly cute — he has to hold himself back from taking you against his car then and there — “Satoru, please—” 

“I do, I do, sweetheart, you said you’ve never done any of this before, well I’ve never done half of the things I’ve done with you,” he murmurs, a chuckle caught in his words, “do you think I’d plan a trip like this for just anyone? I’ve never even engaged in this sort of relationship before — until I saw you,” 

You pause, mouth agape, “So you’ve never had a different—” 

“You’re my one and only baby,” he teases, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, “and worth every cent, second, and effort I’ve used,” And you bite back a smile, eyes slightly glassy, “what?” 

“I thought — I don’t know, when I hadn’t heard from you, I thought you had found someone else, that you were going to leave, and it just seems so silly now,” you shake your head, but he’s cupping your chin, meeting your gaze. 

“It is silly, baby,” he’s pressing another kiss to your lips, “because I’d never leave you — and I’m not planning on it, are you?” 

“No! No, of course not,” and he laughs at your eager reply, making your cheeks hot, as he’s burying his face in the side of your neck, “Toru—” 

“At this rate, you’re gonna make me fall for you, princess,” and your fingers card through his hair, grinning as kisses your neck, and you make him look at you — pale skin flushed from the weather or your touch, it could be either. 

“That’s the plan.” 

“Was this part of your plan?” Satoru’s voice is caught, as looks at you — oh and he could look at you forever. 

Your innocent lips painted pink, a perfect accent to the light cerulean lingerie that you had wrapped yourself in. The lace and see through panels left almost nothing to the imagination, but at the same time, hid just enough. You were a present ready to be unwrapped — and you wanted him to do the unwrapping. 

“You tell me,” you chuckle, twirling a strand of your hair between your fingers, letting your legs spread further apart, making him drop the bouquet he was holding, “nothing to say?” 

It had been a few weeks since your trip away and you had been hinting at wanting to finally have your first time with Satoru. But each time, he always ended up fingering you or sucking you off — he was hesitant, he didn’t want you to regret your choice. 

But how to explain that you could never regret him? Well, this was the only way to think of — a hammer instead of a gentle hand. 

And his gaze grows lidded, mouth dry, as he steps forward, “sweetheart—“ 

“You kept saying you wanted our first time to be special, but you don’t get it—“ you reach out and tug him closer by his tie, “my first time will always be special if it’s you,” you kiss his jaw, smiling, and he’s wordless as he stares at you, hesitancy eating away at your confidence “but if you don’t want—“ 

And he’s got you pinned under him, knee pressed between your thighs, his fingers sliding up and down your exposed skin of your sides, his perfect lips curved in a smile, “I guess we’re really not understanding each other, baby,” his lips ghost over the nape of your neck, as he inhaled deeply, before pulling back, his thumb now dragging over your lips, “I want you — badly,” and his fingers tease the fabric of your lingerie, “you don’t know how many times I’ve come close to giving into you, to wanting to just fuck you like I’ve dreamed about, fantasized about — but, I guess I was waiting for a perfect moment that didn’t exist — since every moment with you is special, right?” He teased, making you flush. 

“I want you too, Toru, so bad,” you rub yourself against his knee, “I can’t wait anymore, are you gonna fuck me or—“ 

His knee grinding against you cuts you off with a whine, “don’t tempt me so much, sweetheart, we gotta do this right,” his lips find yours again, all tongue and teeth, as he swallows your noises and more with pleasure, his knee rubbing against you in earnest, “gotta prep you right,” he murmurs reverently. 

His lips trail from your lips to press wet kisses to your jaw, and his fingers part your thigh further — and you let him with ease. And his lips tease the edge of your lingerie, “it’d be a shame to take this off, so maybe I’ll just take you in it,” his mouth closes over your clothed nipple, teasing it through the fabric, making you gasp,  “but then again, I wouldn’t  be able to see your body without any obstructions. Decisions, decisions,” 

And he’s snapping the shoulder strap against your skin, as he pulls his knee away, the dark damp patch on the fabric, “Plesse, Toru, I need more—“ and his lips curl, as his fingers tease your clothed cunt, two fingers dragging right down the slit. The wet fabric barely doing anything to stop the press of his pads against your sensitive folds. 

“So wet for me already, sweetheart? I’m flattered,” he grins, leaning down to inhale, before a soft moan leaves his lips, “your scent is as good as you taste,” making you keen against him at his words — you could never grow used to the sight of him between your thighs, his blue irises fixed on your cunt. 

“Just for you, Toru,” and he bites back a groan, his gaze half lidded with lust, “only for you,” 

He can’t wait anymore. 

He kisses up your body, teasing your bellybutton with his tongue, dragging his mouth up your abdomen until he reaches your lips. And he kisses you again, lips burning against yours, stealing any coherent thought with only a brush of his lips or a stolen touch of your thighs. But now his lips reach the waistband of your lacy panties, giving another broad lick, tasting you through the soaked material, before he’s sliding two fingers inside the elastic tugging it down your legs. 

“As much I love your lingerie — it needs to go,” and he’s sniffing the fabric with a small moan, before pocketing it with a wide grin,  “for now,” 

“Toru, those were expensive—“ 

“I know, my money paid for them,” he winks, making you shiver with a graze of his teeth against your inner thigh, “I’ll buy you as many as you like, as long I’m the only one taking them off,” his warm breath makes your cunt twitch as his fingers part your pussy, stretching out your walls — so fucking tight,  “s’pretty, all for me,” his thumb brushing against your clit, making you whine, “so needy, pretty girl — you need my cock that bad?” He’s thumbing your chin, making you meet his gaze and his cock throbs — you were already so fucked out — chest nearly heaving, your breasts nearly escaping their cups; your lips parted with pants and soft moans; and your eyes fixed on him, lidded and needy — it was enough for him to cum there and then. 

Was he the virgin or were you? 

“I’ll give you my cock, baby,” his tongue finally licks up your cunt, savoring the taste of you on his tongue — sweetest thing he’d ever had — “but I’m going to have your cunt first,” 

You’re a mess — moaning and twitching as your fingers grasp at his snowy locks, white strands between your fingers bury him deeper in your aching warmth, thighs nearly suffocating him — and he wouldn’t want to die any other way, honestly. Fuck, how is he so good at this? Two seconds, and you’re ready to squirt all over his face — the way his tongue drags against your insides and flicks against your clit, before sliding back into your sweet cunt, making your walls twitch around him. 

And he can’t help but grind against his sheets and mattress, surely leaving a stain on his pants — but fuck, he couldn’t help it. All he couldn’t help it — all he wanted to was sink into you, bury himself deep inside, until he made you cum over and over — but he wanted this to be good for you. 

It’s when his lips close around your clit and suck as your fingers sink into you once again and fuck you open when it’s all over for you. You’re moaning unabashedly now, your back arching and your legs trembling as you cum hard, his name on your lips in an almost scream, as he only eats you out through your orgasm, tongue lapping every drop of your release, as you come down from your high. Intense pleasure ebbs away to slight twitches and heavy pants, as you look down at him with fucked out eyes, his face absolutely covered in your glossy release, as his pink tongue darts out to collect the rest, back of his hand taking care of the rest, your cunt convulsing at the sight of him. 

“Know it was good, but didn’t realize it was that good,” and he’s leaning up, sliding off the bed to strip off his jacket before undo the buttons of his shirt’s cuffs, fingers deftly undoing his button-up now, “so perfect for me,” and he’s pulling his phone from his pocket, as he leans down to part your thighs for him, his gaze dark with lust as he snaps a few pictures of your leaking cunt, “such a pretty princess cunt,” and you hear the clink of his belt as he undoes it, your gaze lifting as your eyes raked over his defined abs and muscles, following all the way down to his v-line and below…

Fuck. 

You knew he was big — hell you could barely fit him in your mouth, but how the fuck was he going to fit inside you? And your nerves come back full force, but mixed with an excitement — an excitement and a relief that your first time — your first time would be with someone you loved, would be with someone that the word ‘love’ failed to encompass your feelings for. 

Even when he was a teasing ass. 

“Like what you see, baby?” he’s grinning, as he drags his engorged tip against your fluttering walls, smearing his pre-cum against yours, groaning as he watches it mix, “fuck, been dreaming about this for so long,” as he leans over you to press a kiss to your sweet lips, the lust mixing with love — an entire ocean of love that threatens to drown you if you look for too long, “are you sure?” the words are said with such concern, such care, such gentleness that it almost makes you want to cry — but you don’t know why. 

“I am, always, when it’s you,” and your fingers find his cheek, as you lean up to kiss him, his lips curved in a smile reserved for you. 

“Don’t go getting all soft on me now, sweetheart,” and you laugh. 

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you, old man—” and you gasp as he presses the tip against your entrance, waiting for your go-head to push in — but that doesn't mean he couldn’t make you eat your words. 

“What was that, baby?” it’s his turn to laugh and yours to pout, before you’re pulling him close again. 

“Satoru, please—” and your gazes meet again, and there’s no need for any more discussion. He moves slow, lining himself up, making sure he is lubricated enough to slip into you. 

“If I’m hurting you—-” 

“I’ll scream,” you tease, and he snorts. 

“I’d like to see you screaming for a different reason, but that works too,” and he’s leaning down to capture your lips once more, as he sinks into you slowly. Your lips part in a gasp, your expression twisting with the discomfort you felt, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t tolerate, and his eyes meet yours, as you give a nod, and inch by inch, he fits himself in you — until he finally bottoms out. 

You both groan, his fingers running through your hair, “So fucking perfect f’me, sweetheart,” and he’s not moving, letting you get used to him filling you up, “I know, it’s so much, isn’t it, baby? But you’re doing so well,” and his lips met yours again, as the slight discomfort ebbs away, all you feel is want, want as his tip finds your cervix, want as you feel your walls meld to his shape, and want when you hear the low groan stuck in his throat, “good girl, my best girl,” 

And you can’t help the desperate whine that parts your throat, “Please, move,” you nod, and that’s all he needs for him to pull back and thrust back in, pulling gasps and moans from your pretty lips. 

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts, as he falls into a rhythm, “fuck, your cunt is practically sucking me back in — getting the feeling you don’t want me to stop, sweetheart,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your neck, in contrast to the dirty squelch of your cunt and the slapping of your hips with his as he fucked you. 

It felt so good. 

Your fingers find purchase on his neck, fingers dragging through his white locks and undercut, drawing him impossibly closer, as his lips close over one of your nipples, licking and sucking as he thrusted into you. And he’s guiding your legs around his waist, and your legs pull him ever closer — ever deeper — as he groans against you. He presses sloppy wet kisses along your collarbone, his groan vibrating against your skin. 

“Look at that, pretty girl, taking me so well,” he’s grunting, as he looks at where you two meet, watching himself sink into you over and over, “g’nna make you only want this cock — no one else’s — all mine,” and you’re so close — your head buried in the nape of his neck, and he could hear every pant, moan, gasp right as it left your mouth, “such pretty noises — never made these noises for anyone else, have you, baby? Just f’me,” 

And you nod, eyes fluttering shut, “Close, s’close,” pleasure building, like a coil ready to snap, you can’t find the words — “I’m—“ 

“Cum on my cock, Princess,” his fingers press down against your clit, rubbing and that’s it, “let me make you feel good,” 

Your walls clamp down hard his dick twitching in your cunt, a low groan leaving his lips, as he fucked you through your orgasm, and his hips stutter against you, low moans leaving his lips. 

It felt so right. Pleasure washing over you as your toes curled, your eyes nearly rolling back, as you came. And he can’t stand it much longer — 

“Where—“ he groans, your slick cunt too much for him, your cum drenching him, “I’m close—“ 

“Inside, please, I—“ and he gives a shaky chuckle. 

“So greedy, baby — want my cum too?” He kisses you, long and soft as he moaned your name far too loud, his warm, thick load spilling inside you, as he fucked it inside, “look at that, filled you up so good,” as he finally stills inside of you, as he eases out, groaning as he watches your mixed release slip from inside you and trickle down his balls, “s’good, so perfect for me,” 

He grabs a towel to clean you up, gently cleaning your thighs, murmuring sweet nothings. Before he leans down to press a kiss to your reddened lips. 

“Are you okay?” He runs his fingers through your hair, and you nod, as you cup his cheek. 

“I’m perfect,” you sigh, as he curls up beside you, burying his face in the nape of your neck, “and you?” 

“What’s more than ‘perfect?’” And you snort, before he’s leaning over you, “what?” 

“You’re such a dork,” 

“But I’m your dork, your very rich dork, who loves to spoil you,” and you laugh, pulling him close. 

“Just mine,” and he’s kissing you again. 

“Just yours.” 

And you find yourself at that same bar you did many moons ago. 

You nurse a soda, instead of a drink, because you didn’t care for the taste of alcohol. Habits die hard with the company you kept. You felt the gaze of several people on you, but none of them approached — and you didn’t mind one bit. 

“Mind if I sit here?” And you smile, stirring your soda with its straw, not bothering to look up at the sound of this very familiar voice. The same voice that had woken you up with several kisses to your neck this morning. 

“Not at all,” you reply, as you slide over his fruity drink — some concoction that is utterly too sweet — “you’re late,” 

Satoru sighs, swirling his drink in its glass. “Well, the business partners were particularly chatty. I think they knew we had dinner plans,” Satoru sips at his drink, pouting, as you comfort him with a chaste kiss to his cheek, “how’d the job interview go?” 

“I think they might give me the offer,” you smile, but you shrug, leaning against the surprisingly not sticky bar counter,  “I’m not too worried either way,” 

“I told you don’t have to work—“ 

“And I told you I want at least to work part-time to contribute something,” you remind him, as you lean close, fingers lacing with his with a squeeze, “don’t worry we will spend a lot of time together,” and he’s still pouting. 

“That’s not enough,” 

“Plenty?” And he relents, murmuring something about “that’s better,”, “where are we going for dinner anyway?” You raise an eyebrow, “such secrecy tonight,” 

“I have to keep you on your toes, sweetheart, can’t have you losing interest,” he smiles, as his fingers reach into his pocket, and you roll your eyes, unimpressed. 

“Never,” you roll your eyes, as he leans over and presses a kiss to his neck, and he’s finding your lips, fingers brushing your cheek, panting as he parts, “I know you’re trying to avoid the question.” 

And he only offers a grin, before he’s holding a ring before you, “take a guess,” 

You stare at it, blinking, your fingers covering your mouth, “Satoru—“ 

“I told you a long time ago here that I wanted to be the one to take care of you — and now I’m asking to take care of you forever,” and you can’t help but grin, “I’m sure we can reach another agreement — as long as you let me call you my wife,” 

And you’re already pulling him into your arms, lips sliding against his, as he melts into the kiss, “is that a yes?” 

You laugh, offering your hand, “put the ring on me,” and he does, sliding it onto your finger, smiling. 

“You won’t regret it,” and you kiss him again, pressing your forehead to his.  

“I know,” because saying yes to marrying Satoru Gojo was surely the smartest idea you’ve ever had.  

✴︎ a/n: s/o to @laneysmusings for being the best beta reader, and i was truly possessed with the idea of having gojo take care of me and hearing mei mei say that he's "so rich" and he's like " well, she ain't lying." I also didn't listen to agora hills while writing this fic, but i used all the edits of gojo to that song as insp for the title and header lol.

✴︎ taglist: @deegausserr, @satoryaa, @orianakira, @tinnkerbell, @laylasbunbunny, @aztecmoonwarrior, @empresslazingway, @chosoilysm, @idktbhloley, @lorain07, @dreampiies, @nestafarren, @daydreamermarimo, @hydraafk, @theonetheycallbatman, @soccasium, @clearlandchild, @indigoghnights, @cha-raena, @strawberiicreme, @thegreatandpowerfulloreothecat, @jgh15hog, @onlyangeltae, @satocidal, @mrsmoriarty-holmes, @arrloww, @kyyyynziee