#no one knows if they are dating? friends? enemies? rivals? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gojonanami · 8 months

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ALL'S FAIR (IN LOVE AND MERGERS) ✩ SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: you're not sure what's worse -- being an arranged marriage or being an arranged marriage with the person who used to be your best friend. ✴︎ contents: 18+ only, nsfw, arranged marriage au, gojo and reader are both heirs to large companies, childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, lots of fluff + banter, gojo is down bad, geto makes an appearance, handjobs (f!+m! receiving), oral (f!+m! receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, dom! + sub!gojo, degradation (slut), breeding kink, gojo has a praise kink, semi public sex, office sex, tiny amount of sexting, under the desk oral (m!receiving), pet names (sweetheart, princess, baby), pregnancy mentions ✴︎ wc: 16,381 (why do i do this to myself?)

“Why do you look so down, Princess?” Your eyes flicker up from your book, forcing your expression to stay disinterested — the one emotion Satoru hated, “shouldn’t you share your feelings with your fiancé?”

“Don’t call yourself that,” you snap, and his lips curl at your reaction, “what are you so smug about? You’re stuck in the same position as me,”

“And what’s that?” You close your book, glaring daggers at his all too perfect face.

“Marrying your worst enemy.”

It wasn’t always like this.

Satoru Gojo used to be your friend — your best friend in fact. The fact your families’ companies were rivals often meant you ran in the same social circles more often than not. And it meant more than one boring adult party that the two of you were stuck with each other.

The two of you had become inseparable — attending the same prestigious schools with the most pretentious children, though the two of you were no exceptions. But you liked to think you were.

And you didn’t realize your feelings for Satoru, until someone else had.

“Do you want to hang out on Friday?” You ask, flipping through the channels as the two of you watched TV, looking for something other than the second half of movies and the reruns of shows you didn’t care for.

“I can’t, I’m going to the formal,” he replies, not looking up from his phone, and you pause.

“You’re going to that?” You raise an eyebrow, “we’ve never went,”

“Well I never had someone ask me who I wanted to go with,” his eyes flicker up from his phone, a smirk on his lips, “you jealous?”

Your reply leaves your lips like whiplash, “You wish,” you cross your arms, but you can’t help ask the question burning on your lips, “who are you going with?”

“Akari,” and you scoff, “what?”

“That girl goes out with a new guy every week,” you shake your head, “you’re better off staying at home with me,”

“So you are jealous,” he hums, leaning back on the couch, “if you wanted to go with me, all you had to do was ask, Princess,”

Your cheeks flush, which you make up for in indignancy and sharp words, “Don’t call me that,” the nickname your family affectionately had called you had become Satoru’s favorite thing to call you, “I’m just telling you to be careful — that girl isn’t someone you should trust with your feelings,”

“I think I’ll use my own judgment instead of someone who hasn’t even been on a single date before,” his tone is far too biting and his accuracy is far too sharp — and you can’t stop your face from dropping, and his lips part - regret flashing across his features, “princess—“

“Go home, Satoru,” you rise, brushing past him, “you know the way out,”

“Princess—“ he tries to reach for your hand, but you slap it away. His hand retracts like he’d been burned.

“Please, go,” you open the door for him, and he does, and little do you know that would be one of the last times you spoke.

The day of the formal arrives, the two of you hadn’t seen each other outside of class since that day. But Satoru did see you at the dance that night - on the arm of his former best friend, Suguru — the same one he had a falling out with a year ago. He doesn’t say a word to you, but you don’t miss the hurt in his eyes - but you wonder why it was there in the first place - and why he was acting like you put it there.

It all goes to hell after.

The Gojo Corporation poaches one of your family’s biggest clients in a shady backroom deal, breaking their truce and your family’s trust. Arguments and stress reach a peak over the phone and lines are drawn and metaphorical guns are drawn.

And you and Satoru are caught in the crossfire.

Not that you weren’t firing shots yourself.

It wasn’t until you pulled Satoru into a secluded classroom, and you shut the door behind the two of you. Even with the sunglasses perched on his nose as always, he flinches in the bright light of the sun setting behind you, dipping the classroom in a blazing orange — light sensitivity nearly required him to wear his sunglasses out, but he certainly made a statement in them — though what didn’t he make a statement in?

“What are we going to do about our families?” you chew your lip — you had listened this morning to your father rant about the Gojo family — unkind words to say about them all, even Satoru himself, who your father had treated as a second son — and now he was grilling you about what you had told him about the family business.

“What can we do?” His arms are crossed and his gaze is upwards, “they are going to do what they want,”

You stare at him, your heart cracks, blood rushing in your ears, “Satoru, if this gets worse, we won’t be able to be friends,” you refuse to let your voice break.

“So what? I know the way out, don’t I?” But your heart did break, “I’m sure Suguru could comfort you,”

Your eyes burn, but you can’t, you can’t let him see you cry, “Why are you so upset? You had a date—“

“And mine wasn’t the person who backstabbed me,” he bites back, “what my family did is done, and so are we,” and he doesn’t look back when he leaves.

And it was good — because he didn’t see you cry.

And now you sat with him in your living room, trying to process the fact you would be legally married soon enough.

“Worst enemy? I know you liked to embellish princess, but that seems excessive,” he snorts, “glad to know I haven’t escaped your thoughts these years,”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” and he grins his shit eating grin, and it’s almost as if no time has passed, except the person who sits before you isn’t a seventeen year old with an attitude of a shithead — it’s an adult man (albeit with the same attitude).

“Don’t need to - you already do that for me, baby,” he winks, and you don’t know whether you want to slap him or strangle him. Either way, you wanted him to shut up, “shouldn’t we at least try to make the best of this?”

“The best of what?” You scoff, ready for your veins to burst out of your head, if only to spare you the agony of this conversation, “Gojo, we were best friends a million years ago and then we weren’t and now we’re getting married - all on the whims of our families, so how do we make the best of it?”

He pauses a moment, almost thoughtfully, “I was your best friend?”

And you rise to your feet, “this is impossible,” you brush past him, but he catches you by your wrist, his thumb grazing your pulse.

“Princess, I’m sorry,” he says, and you stop, meeting his gaze reluctantly, his lips part, “that you were so annoying in high school—“

“Fuck you,” and you storm off as he cackles, but you don’t notice the small smile on his lips that stays as he watches you.

And nor do you hear him say, “God, I missed you.”

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter under your breath, as you place back the millionth dress you looked at, “we’re hardly celebrities but we have to make a public appearance?”

Your families wanted the marriage to be portrayed as a love marriage in the media - childhood friends falling in love after reconnecting - the thing of love stories. The thing that would circle the drain on social media on cute threads of meetcutes and what ifs. When in fact, you were being forced on a shopping date with an already well paid and positioned paparazzi ready to take pictures of this charade.

“You may not be, Princess, but I am quite the catch,” Satoru takes the attention in stride, not only of the paparazzi, but the passersby who gawked at the two of you. It was true, Satoru was nearly always listed as an eligible bachelor in far too many of these lists that existed, if not the eligible bachelor, and yet here you were, glued to his side like some taudry accessory.

“So does that mean if I just toss you away, someone else will catch you?” You grumble, and he looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses.

“Like it or not, you caught me,” he flashes you those pearly whites, and you supposed he blinded you as you stumble forward, tripping. But you don’t kiss the pavement — but you almost wish you do. He catches you, his arm around your waist, the other on your shoulder, and his eyes graze over you in a flash of concern, and then amusement, “and I’m not going anywhere this time,”

And you flush, the clicks of cameras in the distance snapping you back to reality, as you right yourself with a fake smile plastered on your lips. You brush his shirt off as lovingly as you can, “And if I go?”

His lips only curl into his obnoxiously charming smile, as he gestures for you to walk on, “I’ll follow, Princess,”

Finally the trip is over, and Satoru is driving the both of you back, “I’m surprised you took a day off for this,” he remarks, “usually you work all week,”

“Well I wasn’t given much of a choice, now was I?” And then you glance at him, furrowing your brow, “how do you know how often I work?”

“What’s the phrase? Keep your enemies close, and your lovers closer?” He gives a wry grin as you scowl at him, “you’re not surprised I kept tabs on you, are you?”

“Well, no,” because you did the exact same. You pinned the blame on late nights and doom scrolling on social media — curiosity killed the cat.

“And now I know you kept tabs on me,” he looks far too satisfied with himself, “I’m flattered,”

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave him off, “it’s not like you’re that interesting to begin with,”

“Sure,” he smirks, and then you glance outside, noticing you were getting further out from home rather than closer.

“Where are we going?” You sit up, glancing around — you didn’t recognize the area.

“Oh, you didn’t think our date was over yet, did you?” his lips curl, his eyes still on the road, “we are just going to a more private location,”

“If you take me to a hotel, I will slap you,” you murmur, and he laughs, a sound that makes your stomach flip.

“I didn’t know a princess’s mind could be in the gutter,” he remarks, his fingers flexing on the wheel, a small infinity tattoo on his ring finger, and your mind really then all but fled to the gutter as you thought what else he could use those fingers for.

“Oh my mind goes a lot of places,” this was growing more dangerous — for your tongue and for your heart.

And he notices your gaze flickering to his hands, and his lips curl, “I think I’d like to familiarize myself with the places your mind goes, Princess,” You flush, “but that’s for a different day.”

“Where are you taking me anyway?”

“We’re almost there, just enjoy the ride,” you eventually pull up to a park, and he leaves the car, opening the door for you, “after you, my lady,”

You slide out of the car, as he shuts the door behind you, and then pulls a basket out of the back, “Is there tape and rope in there?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Didn’t know you were into that,” he winks, as you glare at him, “it’s a picnic basket - this is a nice spot to watch the sunset,”

“You watch sunsets?”

“Only with you,” you roll your eyes.

“Such a dork - are these the lines you use on all your dates? And don’t say only with me,” you add quickly, and he snorts.

“You catch on quick,” and he takes your hand, leading you along, “come on,”

His hand envelops yours, his fingers eventually intertwining with yours, his warmth flooding your body, but you can’t urge yourself to pull away.

A bottle of sparkling cider and a charcuterie board later, the two of you watch the sun begin its descent, blazing colors bleeding into one another.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, looking over your glass as you sip, “even when we used to hang out, I was the one to bring the snacks,”

“Well times change,” he replies, “plus you’re the one who always stopped me from buying snacks,”

“You always bought only sweets — it was always chocolate, sugar, and desserts,” you roll your eyes, “I see you got over that,”

“Nah, I just decided to buy things I know you like,” and your heart traitorously squeezes, but then he points, “look,” and your gaze falls onto the sunset and you gasp softly.

“It’s beautiful,” you sigh, and you don’t notice Satoru’s gaze on your face, a small smile on his lips.

“It is,” and you look back at him, his eyes shifting to you again.

“You never answered my question,” you say, “why are we doing this?”

“Why wouldn’t we? We’re getting married, Princess, did you forget?” He expertly dodges the question, swiftly leaping over a landmine, but you weren’t one to mince words or hesitate to do a direct assault.

“We’re getting married, it doesn’t mean we have to date,” you tilt your head, “Gojo, tell me—“

“Call me Satoru,” his words are so soft, hesitant even, as if his words could break apart any second if he had spoken them any quieter.

It’s a fragility he doesn’t often grace you with - that’s he’s maybe never given to you, and you don’t wish to break it.

But you’re also scared - scared that this will break yours.

“Satoru,” you whisper, and he smiles — the same smile he’d greet you with when you would meet up after school, the same smile when he’d beat you at whatever game you guys were playing, and the same smile you hadn’t seen in so long, “why are you doing all of this?”

“Is it not obvious?” He’s leaning closer and you only realize that you’re doing the same when your wrist hurts from leaning on your hand.

“Nothing is obvious when it comes to you, Satoru,” his lips warm yours with his breath, and the sun has set - there’s no other explanation for the warmth blooming on your skin other than him—

Ring. Ring. Ring.

His phone ringing sends both of you flinching apart, but his eyes don’t leave you for a lingering moment, before he picks up.

“Hello,” his voice is unwavering even after the moment you shared, you barely hear what he says over the blood thundering in your ears, “yes, we’ll be home shortly. Ok. Bye,”

He turns to look back at you, “My parents were wondering where we went,” and you nod, “we should get back,” and he begins to pack away the things,

“Satoru—“ you start, but he grabs your hands, tugging you forward.

“What?” he smiles, “not ready to part with me yet, princess?”

You scowl, pushing him away, brushing past him to the car, “Forget it,”

And he catches you by your wrist and pulls you back to him, your back against his front, “I don’t want to forget it,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I—”

And his phone rings again, and he sighs, showing you that it was your father this time, putting his phone on silent, “Our parents have impeccable timing,” and the moment is broken, as the two of you walk back to the car in relative silence, the sun long sunk below the horizon, and the moment along with it.

The wedding comes and goes without much ado — it was a private ceremony done with only your families and a few close family friends. And aside from a photo shoot that was to be “leaked” of the two of you looking far too lovey dovey that wound up circulating the media drain and ended up causing you and Satoru to keep a low profile for a week or two, not much of your life changed. The only thing being that you and Satoru slowly start to move in together, each moving your things into separate bedrooms, not that you’re around enough to even notice a shift as the work piled on due to the merger, only accumulates, and as do your late nights.

You come home again, back to your shared apartment, late at night, shutting the door softly behind you. You slip your shoes off, along with your jacket by the door, before setting your things down. You stretch your sore muscles, your stomach crying for mercy of the deprivation you had put it through today, and you allow it to lead you to the kitchen.

Satoru was surprisingly neat, aside from his own room that was a disaster zone not worth entering. The living spaces were always clean, as was the kitchen (though you had a sneaking suspicion he had hired a cleaning service to specifically tidy up when you were gone (due to the lingering lemony scent every surface had at times). You rummage through the refrigerator as quietly as you could, but not quietly enough as the lights flick on, and you feel akin to a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“I feel like I’ve seen the mailman more than my own wife this week,” Satoru stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame of the door, a small grin on his lips, but a hint of something else in his eyes — concern? You don’t have the time to decipher the feeling, as your mind chooses to replay the phrase “my wife” on repeat.

“The merger has been killer to deal with — all the diligence requests has buried us,” you grumble, as you grab a box of cereal off the top of the refrigerator and the milk from the inside, and he’s holding a bowl and a spoon, “thanks,” as you reach for it, he holds it away from you.

“You know there’s something called delegating that you should try sometime, princess,” he says, tilting his head, “otherwise, you’re likely to run yourself into the ground,”

“It sounds like you care,” he puts down the bowl and spoon, grabbing the cereal and milk from you, and fixing a bowl for you, as you rub your eyes, sitting on the stool by the island.

His lips curl, “Who said I didn’t?”

You lay on the counter, staring up at him, “Didn’t know my husband could be anything but annoying,” and you enjoy the way his eyebrows shoot up, and it may have been your tired eyes, but you swore a small pink flush settled his way onto his cheeks, “cute,” you mumble, the word escaping you before you could stop it.

“What?” his eyes snap to yours, but he only finds them closed, the soft snores from your lips told him you weren’t pretending, as he stares at you, biting his lip, before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, “what are you doing to me, princess?” he murmurs.

And the next morning when you wake, you find yourself tucked into bed, as you roll over, to find your alarms had been turned off, and you were far too late to several meetings you had that morning.

You jolt up, before you find a note stuck to your shirt, you pause in your panic, to peel it off and read it:

Canceled your meetings for today and had your staff handle the ones they could deal with. You’re taking a break. You need it. - Satoru.

You wanted to protest, but even as you willed yourself to try and check your email, your body was screaming in agreement with Satoru, and you sighed, lying back down in bed, as you drifted into a dreamless sleep, with the note still in your hand.

~~~~~

“Gojo, get back in bed,” you cross your arms in front of his doorway, “you’re sick,”

“I’m fine,” he pouts, his normally pale skin flushed with a red tinge that gave away his fever, his eyes bloodshot from a restless night, and yet he still looked as perfect as ever, if not a bit rumpled from his askew hair and ruffled clothes, “I have to—”

“Rest,” you say, gently pushing him backwards towards his bed, “you need rest. You made me rest, and now it’s your turn,”

“But—”

“Satoru,” and the use of his name stops him in his tracks, as his knees buckle as his legs hit the end of his bed, “please?”

His resistance crumbles, “Princess, I’m fine—” and you press your forehead to his, making his breath catch, your face far too close far too fast.

“You’re burning up,” you ease him back into bed, as you roll your sleeves up, “will you be okay? I’m going to run out and get some supplies - have you taken any medicine?”

He shakes his head, “You can send out someone,” he says, reaching for his phone, but you grab it, “Princess-“

“I’m texting everyone that you’re sick and that you can’t make it in for the next two days while you recover,” you pocket his phone, putting it on silent, “consider this payback,” and you’re pulling on your jacket, “and I’m going to get you some things. I don’t need to send someone out. Do you want anything? I can’t get anything sweet because it will make your cough worse, but is there anything that you want?”

He shakes his head, as you snap your fingers and head out of the room, before returning with cold medicine, “I’ll give you this for now, and then I’ll grab some more while I’m out,”

You pour the medicine into the cup, and he sits up as best he could, reaching for the medicine cup, but you cup his chin, feeding it to him. He feels like his body is burning hotter from your touch than it is the fever, “I have to make sure you drink all of it, you can’t leave half of it in the cup like you did when we were kids,”

“You remember that?” he mumbles, as you help him lie down again, your hands gentle as you help lean back, and you tilt your head.

“I remember every ridiculous thing you did,” you snort, as you check to make sure you got everything — phone, wallet, keys — “just rest here, and call me if you need anything, ok?” his eyes are already starting to droop, heavy with sleep, and he gives a small nod.

And he catches you by your wrist, “Do you have to go?” he mumbles, pulling your hand close to his face, “I don’t want you to go,” his words slur, and he’s asleep in a moment, his hand still clutching yours to his face, lips brushing against your palm.

Heat flares up your cheeks, as you stand, motionless, his soft snores filling the room, as you manage to tug your hand away, and you stand over him, his mouth in an adorable pout, as sweat glistened on his forehead, white locks sticking to the damp skin. You leave for a moment to grab a cold compress for his forehead, and you come back, brushing his hair back to place the compress on. He shivers ever so slightly, but you just rub his head slowly, and he drifts back into sleep.

“I’ll be right back,” you whisper, and you wonder, how often has Satoru been cared for by maids or employees rather than his family? How often had they passed the buck of caring for their son to others as if it was more of a chore than a privilege to take care of someone they loved.

You leave his phone on video call with yours so you can keep an eye on him as he sleeps, even if you were going down the street, you didn’t want to leave him alone completely. Instead of music, you listened to the cacophony of his soft snores and shifting of his sheets. You grabbed the things you needed - medicine, supply for meals, vitamin water, vitamin c supplements, and anything else you could think of.

You return, door shutting softly behind you as you hang up the call, and set everything down on the counter. You poke your head into Satoru’s room to find him still fast asleep, and you remove the cold compress, going to replace it with a new one, but his hand catches yours as it brushes your forehead, and he mumbles your name.

And you flush — were you sure you weren’t getting sick at this point?

You sigh, running your fingers through his hair, “You’re as touchy as you were when we were kids,” and he was — there wasn’t a moment that Satoru wasn’t all over you before the ages of puberty — holding hands, hugging, even laying on top of you — but it was innocent. But even as you got older, it was poking, it was a leg over yours, it was grabbing your wrist instead of your hand.

And now, your hand was dwarfed by his, consuming your wrist and hand with his own, and it was so warm — though exacerbated by his fever. And you couldn’t help but want to lace your fingers through his. But — you pulled your hand away and replace his cold compress — you couldn’t afford thoughts like that.

Not now.

You cooked soup for him, filled with vegetables and nutrients that he clearly did not get enough of, made freshly squeezed orange juice, and put the supplements you wanted him to take on the tray you had found in the kitchen.

You washed your hands, as you start to clean up, your back to his room, and you hear Satoru say your name.

You turn and see him in the doorway, “What are you doing?”

“I should be asking you that,” he murmurs, rubbing his eyes, “what’s all this?”

“Lunch,” you walk over, waving him back into bed, “you need to rest,”

“Did you make me lunch?” he asks slowly, and you help him back into bed, as he frowns, “you didn’t have—”

“You’re my husband, Satoru,” you say, tilting your head, “I’m going to take care of you and not let you work yourself to the bone while you have a cold,”

And his lips curl at the words slowly, “Your husband,” he repeats, as if the words were foreign to him, and your cheeks flush as your words that were embarrassing enough to say linger in the air, “thank you,” he mumbles, as you nod, trying to calm your utterly burning cheeks before entering with the tray.

Satoru sits in bed still, more coherent than a few minutes before, a small smile on his lips as you enter his view, and you place the tray carefully on his bed, “Will you feed me?” And your eyes flit up to his innocent baby blues full of skies that you couldn’t say no to — and he knew that, “please?”

And now you’re feeding him, your lips carefully blowing on the hot soup as you spoon fed him, and he takes each one, “is it good?”

He nods, “It is, I didn’t know you could cook. The last thing I remember you making me was a microwave brownie that you burned,” and you rolled your eyes.

“That was because you told me to microwave it for too long,” you pout, and he laughs, sending him into a coughing fit, “karma,” and he scowls at you, before his lips split into a grin, “what?”

“Must have been pretty good in my past life,” he says, as you blow on another spoonful, “to end up with a pretty little wife like you, Princess,”

And you nearly drop the spoon, a few droplets slipping from the utensil, as he makes you flustered for the eighteenth time today — “Satoru,” you chide, and you’re not even sure what you are chiding him for — his word on a loop in your mind, “i think you’re high on cold medicine, or your fever,”

You don’t think he had ever called you pretty before.

And he leans forward pressing his forehead to yours, “I have no fever right now,” he whispers, his eyes glancing at the tray, “and I haven’t taken my cold medicine yet,”

Your words catch in your throat, and you’re swallowing thickly, as your eyes drift to his lips and back again, “Toru,” and you can’t lean away from him, he’s pulling you in, like he always did.

But then he pulls back, his cheeks flushed, “I think I should lie down,” and you blink, as you nod hastily.

“Of course,” you grab the tray and flee, leaving his medicine and water on the bedside table, heart thumping against your ribs and blood rushing to your cheeks.

And you don’t hear him grumble, “If only I wasn’t sick.”

After Satoru gets better, you barely see him. It feels empty in the house without his presence. You had grown accustomed to his loud, obtrusive presence, the clothes half thrown in the laundry basket, his snacks stacked up in the pantry and sometimes on the counters, and his cologne wafting through the halls. It seems all of that has faded with time, as he does his best to spend his time at work, and away from you.

After the billionth time of this, you get a phone call from his colleague, Nanami, asking for you to come and fetch him. You furrow your brow as he texts you the address of a bar near his work, and you arrive to find him passed out at a table, drink glasses and small plates littered the tabletop, his pale skin flushed, as he snored slightly as he slept.

His colleague too was flushed, but still sat with drink in hand looking utterly irritated and bemused, “How much did he drink?”

“Maybe two drinks?” and you raise an eyebrow, “he’s a lightweight, but he likes to pretend he isn’t,” he snorts, shaking his head, “did you two have a fight?”

You tilt your head, as you check on him, fingers brushing over his skin — he was so warm from the alcohol, “No, why do you ask?”

And Satoru is mumbling your name, again and again, pouting, “Is that you, my wife?” you flush, and that was your cue to get him out of there. Nanami helps you get him to his work car, luckily that came equipped with a driver, and you slide in beside him, as he dozes, his head drifting to your shoulder. His breath is warm against your neck, as he nestles into the soft skin of your nape, and you can feel his lips move, only catching your name between soft sighs and snores.

“Satoru,” you mutter, brushing his hair from his eyes, “what did you do?”

The driver helps you get him inside, and you’re left with him, his body leaning against yours on the couch, as you rouse him, “Satoru, wake up,” your hands cup his cheeks, and his eyes flutter open blearily.

You can still smell the scent of alcohol on his breath — and you know it’s sweet from the scent that drifts from him. Sometimes you wonder if he would taste sweet with how much sugar he consumes, but you brush that thought to the back of your head, as he finally speaks.

“Are you a dream?” he murmurs, and you have to suppress your laugh at his puppy dog stare.

“Don’t think so, Satoru,” you pinch his cheek lightly, “see? I’m real,”

He smiles, so gentle that it almost takes you aback, “Too real,” his hand slides over yours, flattening it against his cheek, “your hand is so soft, just like when we were kids, and we’d always hold hands anywhere we went,”

You swallow thickly, wondering if your cheeks were hotter than his were from the alcohol, “Well my family hasn’t sold me into manual labor yet, so they’ll stay that way,” and his eyes widen almost comically.

“I wouldn’t let them do that,” he says, almost every other word slurred, “can’t do that to my wife,” and your traitorous heart squeezes, despite itself, despite everything telling you that it didn’t mean anything — that he was drunk — and the million other reasons to brush it away, your heart does what it does best — takes it to heart, “I missed you so much,”

And he’s burying his face in your shoulder, warm breath against your skin making you shiver as you hold him gently, “then why have you been avoiding me?” He’s mumbling into your shoulder now, as you can’t help but laugh, “Stop, you’re tickling me.”

And his stare lifts and settles upon you, stopping your breath in its tracks, “I didn’t want to avoid you, I just was…” he mumbles something incoherent, “I couldn’t face you,”

“Why?” and it’s objectively cute the way he pouts, his face scrunching up like a child, his brow adorably furrowed, as he mutters under his breath slurred words you can’t make out, “let’s get you to bed — if you promise not to avoid me anymore,” you hold up a finger to his face.

He nods, lips still in the same pout, “promise,” he murmurs, as you help him into bed, but as you do, he grabs you, tugging you into bed with him with a yelp, his arms trapped you against him, as his face snuggles into your back, “stay,”

Your skin burns at his touch, his face buried into your back, his arms wrapped impossibly around you, “Satoru—”

“Please?” and the resistance you have crumbles, as you sigh, relaxing as best you could into his touch, “thank you, Princess,” he mumbles something else you can’t make out, before falling asleep.

And you bite your lip, ignoring how your skin feels under his touch — how were you ever going to sleep now?

But you do.

Satoru wakes with a slightly pounding head, a small groan caught in the back of his throat, as he stirs at the bright sunlight streaming in, his eyes fluttering awake to find you. His breath catches, as he stares at you. Your mouth slightly ajar, you softly snore as you sleep, your head resting against his arm, and he swallows thickly, as memories of last night trickle in.

And he nearly groans. He had avoided you to stop himself, to hold himself back from embarrassing himself, and he had gone and pulled you into bed with him after getting drunk. How pathetic was it that it only took you referring to him as your husband for all his walls to come crumbling down? Not that those walls ever stood a chance against you — it was easy for him to pull away from everyone, as if he had a barrier around him, stopping anything from coming near. But you — you were one thing that could penetrate his infinity — and the one thing he wanted to be infinite, if only for him.

His cheeks burn at his revelations and he can only be thankful you’re still asleep as he stares at you — god, he had almost let it slip twice last night. He had mumbled it twice, but from what he remembered, you hadn’t made out the words.

His cheeks burned, god he had said the words twice, and you didn’t even hear him, but the words had left his lips. And how many years had he been waiting to say them?

His fingers caress your cheek, making sure you were still asleep before he said them for a third time, “I love you.”

“How many social events must be inflicted upon us?” you mutter, pressed next to Satoru at the bar, as Satoru sips a soda instead of the alcohol they offered — if only to avoid the disaster that was the last time. But still, the lack of alcohol only makes your touch worse without its dulling effects, “and why did we need to go to this?”

“C’mon sweetheart, it’s not so bad,” Satoru smiles, his eyes skimming over your new suit that you had donned for the occasion, “I like seeing you all dressed up,”

“Well I rather be dressed down at home,” and he raises an eyebrow and you flush, “i mean in a t-shirt and shorts, you absolute perv,”

“Whatever you say, princess,” and you’re too busy elbowing him to notice who's walking over, until you hear your name.

You spot Satoru’s eyes narrow, his lips pursed, as you spot Suguru holding a hand up in greeting, patented grin on his lips, “Yo!”

“Suguru, it’s good to see you,” you greet, as he sweeps you up in a hug, and you shoot a look at Satoru, nudging him to be polite at the very least.

“Satoru, long time no see,” Suguru says, and Satoru plasters a fake smile on his lips.

“It has been,” and the three of you make pleasant small talk about your work — Suguru’s family was in a business adjacent to the work your families did.

“I heard about the merger your companies are doing, how have preparations been?” you open your mouth to answer, but Satoru gets to it first, his arm curling around your waist.

“It’s been going well, our marriage was the first step after all, wasn’t it, baby?” and you flush as Satoru does, doing your best not to glare at him.

“It was,” you smile, as Suguru raises his eyebrows.

“I hadn’t heard you both had married — congratulations,”

And then you’re beckoned by your family, and you slip away for a moment, going to speak to them about one thing or another, leaving Satoru and Suguru alone.

“It’s too bad we lost touch all these years,” Satoru sips at his drink.

“You don’t have to say that, Satoru,” Suguru replies, his grin melting away, “I know part of the reason was the business with our families companies, but I also know that it was personal,” and Satoru follows his eyes to you, as you laugh at something your mother said, “how has married life been treating you both?”

And Satoru glares, his grip tight around his glass, “Is your interest personal?”

“It’s not, but I see that you still haven’t been honest with each other,” he smiles over the lip of his drink, “was this marriage arranged by your families?” and Satoru’s silence was enough to confirm it, “well you should be careful, a marriage is a fragile thing, especially without love,”

“Is that a threat?” and Suguru’s dark irises meet his, full of mirth.

“No, just an observation, Satoru,” and you make your re-appearance, looking between the pair, sensing the tension, as your hand curls around Satoru’s, “It was lovely seeing you both. I hope to see more of you.”

And with that he’s gone, “What was that about?” you ask slowly, and Satoru can’t meet your gaze, only sipping his soda, “Satoru?”

“It’s nothing, princess, don’t worry about it,” and you tilt your head, your brow furrowed.

“That’s it,” you sigh, as you glance between the two of them, Suguru’s gaze still lingering on the two of you, “I know what this is about,” you declare, stepping ever closer to Satoru, your fingers brushing at his shoulder, sending his heart into a gallop.

“Princess—” your hand is sliding up his neck, brushing at his undercut, and your lips curl.

“I didn’t know you had an undercut,” and he can’t form words to respond to you, as you tug him closer, your lips were so close now, “it’s kind of hot,” and his mouth is so dry, his eyes can’t help but flicker down to your lips again, as you lean forward, pulling his head closer, closer, closer—

And you kiss him, it's barely a brush at first, but then you pull him in again, and he can taste the wine on your lips now, as your lips meet, his eyes fluttering shut as his hand slides to cup your face, the other around your waist. And finally you part, small pants leaving your lips, as your fingers toy with the hair resting on the back of his neck, smiling at him, as if you had done this a million times before.

And he wanted to do it a million times more. His fingers trace the length of your jaw, delighting in the shiver you give as he touches you, and wondering what other noises he could pull from you.

“Is he still watching?” you whisper, as you smooth over his collar, and he blinks, his eyes following yours to Suguru, who glances at the two of you before looking away, “think we convinced him?”

And his heart sinks just as high as it had soared, “what?” he murmurs, confused.

“He suspected us, right?” you continue with the phony smile on your lips, the heated lust in your gaze, and your soft touches — and it was all enough to break him.

But he doesn’t. He’s Satoru Gojo — he can’t be allowed to break.

So he gives a smile instead, “Yeah, I think we convinced him.”

He can’t help be quiet on the drive home, and he senses your unease, fidgeting in the seat beside him, your attempts to fill the silence falling on deaf ears, and you eventually stop trying, settling to look out of the window instead, until the two of you pull inside your driveway.

You both head inside, and the door shuts behind you, and he watches you struggle to take off your heels, the buckle not cooperating, as you lift your leg to undo it.

But then he’s kneeling before you, undoing your heels for you, as you stammer, “No, Gojo, you don’t have to—”

But his touch is gentle as he helps you out of your heels, one by one, his fingers brushing against your ankles, and then he rises, and for a split second, you forgot how tall he really was.

“No, I want to, because you’re my wife,” and his fingers brush against your jaw. “And I want your thoughts to be of me when I touch you, and not of someone else,” and he tilts your chin up, thumb dragging against your lips before he kisses you.

It was gentle but insistent — and far, far too fleeting, as he pulls away, “and I’ve told you before — I’m your husband, call me Satoru.”

And with that he’s gone, leaving you speechless and alone in your entryway.

You can’t sleep. For several nights.

You replay the moment over and over, the kiss, his words, and all of it.

What the fuck. Were you really up all night because of Satoru Gojo? You lay on your stomach, kicking your feet in frustration as you bury your hot face in your pillow. Your husband was going to be the death of you.

And especially with tomorrow.

Satoru’s family was hosting an event to announce the merger, and you stood in your bathroom, getting ready. You had opted for a baby blue dress that Satoru had picked for you when he had insisted on taking you shopping. He had winked and said you could wear his gaze this way. And you had only rolled your eyes at the time, but now it felt you could feel his eyes upon you.

“You look beautiful,” and you whirl around to find him standing in your doorway, a small smile on your lips, and you flush. It doesn’t go unnoticed, “is that all it takes to embarrass you now, Princess? I used to have to work a lot harder,”

You glare at him, “Shut up,” and your eyes flick to his untied tie, and it’s unspoken, as you walk over to tie his tie for him, “how did you even tie this the day of the formal if you don’t know how to?”

“I didn’t wear one,” he shrugs, his attention making you mess up the knot twice, “I only went to make you jealous anyway,”

Your fingers pause, as your eyes meet, “What?”

“I don’t want to play games anymore, Princess,” the back of his fingers brush against your cheek, “or at least, if I’m going to play, I’m going to play to win,” and you continue tying his tie, if only to distract yourself from your stomach doing flips, “do you know how it feels to want someone for so long only to end up married, but it’s not either of your choice?” And you swallow, not daring to look at him, “because I do.”

“Satoru,” your hands are shaking now, “I-“

“I don’t expect an answer, I don’t expect anything to change,” he adjusts his tie as you finish, turning his collar down, his blue button up matching your dress perfectly, “but I wanted you to know where I stood, and know wherever you are,” his gaze rakes over your form, the same color as the dress than clung to your skin, “I’ll always be here for you,”

“Satoru—“ but he gets a call — as always with impeccable timing, his parents were asking when they would be arriving. He hangs up shortly after, offering his arm with a smile.

“Shall we?” And you take his arm, ignoring the flip your heart does when his arm curls around yours.

The drive over is uneventful, but not the same can be said for the event itself. The merger event was being held at Satoru’s childhood home — the home Satoru had grown up in and around — and never wanted to be at.

“Are you okay?” you ask, your arm still curled around Satoru’s arm, as you glance at him, his shoulders tense and lips tight, before your concern makes the tension melt away a moment, rolling off his shoulders like snow on a spring day.

“I’m fine,” and you’re unconvinced, “just this place is like time has stood still,” he chuckles, his eyes finding the place where the two of you had cracked the chandelier fucking around with a ball inside, “look, still there,”

You snort, “I’m surprised your mother never noticed,”

“She did, she gave me hell for it,” he sips his drink, “I just didn’t tell you,”

“Why?”

“There was a lot I didn’t tell you,” his eyes snap to yours, his pain almost too visceral as he glances around the room he had grown up in — and you could feel him in this room, the ghost of his past roaming the halls, “why do you think I spent so much time at your house?”

“Because of my incredible company?” you half-joke, lips forced into a small smile, but he laughs, rolling his eyes.

“That too,” he hums, his fingers tracing up and down against your wrist sending a wave of heat down your spine.

“Well, you always have an escape now, don’t you?” you intertwine your fingers, “our home is always graced with the presence of your wife,”

He grins, the first actual smile you had seen all evening, “How lucky for you that it’s also graced with the presence of your incredibly handsome husband,”

And you open your mouth to respond, before Satoru’s father interrupts, his hand on Satoru’s shoulder, making him stiffen, “Son,” and his icy blue eyes slide to you, “and my daughter, would you mind if I steal my son for a moment?” it always struck you how different his eyes were from Satoru — the coldness as opposed to the warmth.

You glance at Satoru, and he gives a slight nod, “No, of course not,” you step away, as he pulls Satoru into a side room, and you linger nearby for him, mingling as best you can, when Satoru emerges, eyes downcast and fists clenched, “Satoru-“

“I’m okay,” he plasters on an easy smile, “it’s fine—“

“We’re leaving,” you grab his hand, “let’s go,” and he’s staring at you, as you drag him from the party, wordless.

“But your parents, my parents—”

“Have done enough for us already,” you say, and the two of you walk to the car in silence, “I can drive—”

“It’s ok, I got it,” and you both shut the doors, as he begins to drive. The ride home is quiet, and you glance at him here and there, but you hold your tongue, “you’re not going to ask?”

“It’s your dad - do I need to ask?” You scoff, “It may has been years but I know he’s nothing but a bully — especially to you,”

You may have been young, but you remembered the phone calls Satoru would get, the lectures about his potential and responsibilities as the next heir, the scoldings he’d get for anything less than perfect. And you remembered the look he had the next day — the same one he had when he had come out of that room.

And you couldn’t protect him then, but you could do it now.

He sighs as he pulls the car into the driveway, “You don’t deserve that, Toru,”

“Then what do I deserve?” And he meets your gaze with glassy eyes, and you give a small smile, your fingers reaching for him, brushing along his jaw.

“Love,” and you lean across the gap of the console, across the line you had drawn, across the misunderstandings you had, and you chose him. Your fingers cup his cheek, drawing him close, as you hear his breathe hitch, “can I—”

“You don’t need to ask me even once, Princess,” and you kiss him, your lips grazing his again and again, until your lips finally slide against each other, deepening it as he presses himself against you, hand bearing against the armrest between the two of you. And you can taste the sweet taste of the strawberry dessert that he all but inhaled at the party, the hint of the soda he drank instead of wine, and something that tasted utterly and perfectly of him.

“Toru,” you murmur, but his lips keep finding yours, and you can’t breathe much less think, “I—”

He silences you with another kiss, his fingers finding purchase on the back of your neck as he tugs you impossibly closer, before his lips are tracing a path down your jaw.

“What was that, sweetheart?” he smiles against your skin, “you what?”

“You’re insufferable, you’re endlessly frustrating, and I swear I want to murder you at least twice a day,” and he smiles, as you gasp as his teeth graze your pulse, “but you’re also my best friend, and I—“ you make him meet your eyes, fingers cupping his chin, ocean blue eyes drowning you with their gaze, “I love you,”

And he blinks ever so slowly, before his lips curl into the most beautiful smile you had seen, before he’s kissing you again, as you gasp, “Toru—”

“I’m never going to stop now, Princess,” he grins endlessly, as he presses his forehead to yours, dragging a thumb down your kiss ruined lips, “waited too long for you, but I’d wait a million years to do that again,”

“So should I make you wait?” you tease, and he’s looking like a kicked puppy, pouting and wide eyed, before he’s pressing butterfly kisses to your face, and you’re laughing, “I’m just kidding, baby—”

And he pauses, “‘Baby?’” and his grin is a million watt, as he kisses you again, “never thought I’d see the day you’d call me a pet name,”

Your noses brush as you both laugh, “Well, you are a big baby,” and he pouts again, and you kiss them, “but you’re my baby,”

And you barely remember how you manage to stumble into your home. Frantic touches and hurried kisses and fumbling keys. As soon as the door slams shut, he has you pressed against it, fingers busy with undoing your buttons, as he grins against your mouth.

“Know how long I wanted you? How long I dreamt of this?” he bites your bottom lip, “had to call you my wife before i could call you mine — thought about you dating Suguru, about all the times I wanted to lean over during our movie nights as kids and just kiss you — and how much I regretted it,”

“So you admit you’ve been pining for me,” you gasp as his teeth drag against your neck now, biting and sucking, as your fingers thread through his white locks, “Satoru,” you moan, biting your lip.

“Judging by that moan, I’m not the only one,” he smiles cheekily, his hands sliding down your back to rest at the back of your thighs, large palms and thick fingers pressing through the all too thin tulle of your dress, “can’t wait to see how fuckin’ wet you are for me, Princess.”

You gasp at his vulgar words, a rush of heat that leaves your legs shaking under his touch, “Now whose mind is the gutter?” You tease, your fingers tugging at his tie, unfurling the knot.

“Always has been when it’s come to you, want to make this perfect princess filthy,” he coos, and he’s pulling you up against the door, your hands wrapped around his neck, “wanna make my beautiful little wife scream my name, don’t I?”

“Toru—“ you gasp as his teeth graze along your chest, tugging the neckline of your dress impossibly low, “you’re going to rip it—“ and he does, pulling the fabric apart with ease, “what the fu—“ and he’s swallowing your swears with his tongue.

“I’ll buy you another,” he grins, “in fact I’ll buy you any amount you want, as long as you keep letting me do this,”

And he’s peeling the dress off of you, dress falling to the floor in a shamble of tulle, and your skin flushes at the air hitting your bare skin, and shivers at the feeling of his sharp breath against your neck.

“How are you so fucking perfect?” he sighs, burying his face in the nape of your neck, pressing butterfly kisses down your collarbone, “I should get an award for patience — not being able to touch you, to kiss you, but living with you?”

His fingers are skimming down your underwear now, snapping the waistband against your skin, you gasp, “Fuck, Toru,” you whimper, “thought you’d talk less during this,” your fingers are undoing his shirt now.

“Oh I can think of a few things that could shut me up,” his lips curl deviously, and you’re slipping his shirt off his shoulders, your lips pressing to his collarbone.

“I don’t think you’d even shut up from that,” as he shivers when your teeth graze his soft skin, “I think you’ll only whine more,”

And his gaze is hot as his eyes meet yours again, as he grasps at your thighs and picks you up, “let’s see who’s the one whining at the end of this,” you squeal, grasping into his shoulders, as he carries you into his bedroom, as he settles you down on his bed. His eyes raking over you, panting and disheveled, he drags his thumb down your bottom lip, “can’t believe you’re all mine, Princess,”

“Satoru,” you’re reaching for him, but he pins your hand to the bed, “wha—“

“Patience, baby,” he purrs, as he presses his lips to your wrist, “let me enjoy you,”

He’s so pretty it’s unfair - the way his breath hits your skin steals yours, pretty pink lips parted as he runs his tongue over them, the same ache between your legs longing for that tongue between them. But it leaves you with so little of the patience he asks you to have — especially after over a decade of this in the making.

And your impatience is evident, you suppose, by the pout on your lips, and he laughs, “Want a kiss, baby?”

You don’t have the time to say you want much more than a kiss, as he humors you with a kiss, lips teasing you with their sweet taste, and you don’t fail to notice his smile as you lean up into his touch. And suddenly his hands brush down your bare sides, squeezing your hips, and you’re gasping, “Feel good, Princess? We’ve barely started—“

“You keep teasing me and I’ll make you regret it,” you grumble, between breathless kisses, the bite of your words dampened by the soft pants that leave your lips, “Toru, I swear—“

And his thumb presses against the wet patch on your underwear, flimsy layer of soaked fabric barely doing a thing to hide your arousal, “Not acting like a good little girl for me,” he tuts, as you keen against his touch, gasping as you throw your head back as he grinds his fingers against your puffy clit, “all it took was one touch to have you so pliant, huh? Should’ve done this a long time ago,”

“Stop,” you whine, and his grin only grows larger with such self satisfaction, you don’t know if your lust addled brain wants you to strangle his neck or his cock, “please, just—“

“Just what?” And his fingers are breaching past your underwear, just barely touching the outer lips of your cunt, “come on, Princess, use your big girl words, or are you already fucked stupid before I’ve barely touched you?”

“Motherfuck—“

“I will be one once I get my needy little wife pregnant, won’t I?” And his long fingers finally tug down your underwear — the wet schlick of the sticky fabric hitting the floor make him drag his teeth over those beautiful lips, “but we got plenty of time for that, after all,” his fingers tease the outer lips of your throbbing pussy, “practice makes perfect,”

And he sinks a long finger knuckle deep — and a whine crawls its way out of your throat, his fingers were thicker than yours were — and so much better. His thumb teases your clit in tight circles as he begins to tease your walls, reaching deep, deep, deeper, your slick starting to drip onto his palm, “God, you’re soaking me, Princess,” and your hips can’t resist the urge to grind against his touch, “oh, and where’s that mouth now?” you can barely see much less talk, words failing as he begins to stretch you out - his other large palm rested against your thigh, keeping your legs nice and spread for him.

He’s grinning, he sinks another finger into you, teasing your walls apart, beginning to finger fuck you in earnest, “my mouthy girl just needed to be fucked right? Didn’t she?” And all you can hear are the filthy sounds of your cunt, as his fingers piston in and out, “nothing to say, Princess?” And he spanks your pussy, making you yelp, a whine leaving your throat, “and you thought I’d be whiny, look at you now, baby,” his fingers cup your chin to force your glassy eyes to meet his darkened blues, “such a good fucked out wife for me,”

And a third finger joining right as he brushed against a spot that had you seeing stars as his thumb bullied your clit, eyes rolling back as he did, and he’s grinning, “my perfect princess and her perfect little pussy,”

You came with his name on your lips, panting and shaking as he held you steady, his fingers dripping with your release, as he pulled away, watching your cunt twitch around nothing, aching for his fingers.

You're coming down from your high, chest rising and falling, as you watch him gather your release on his fingers, toying with your cunt, before he sucks them clean, “Fuck,” you whimper, as he licks and cleans himself of your cum, “Toru-“

“Fuck, baby, how’ve I resisted tasting you for so long?” And he’s bending down as he noses your thighs, making your hips jolt, still sensitive from your orgasm as he deeply inhaled, tip of his tongue darting out to lick your release from your thighs, “smell as sweet as you taste,” he hums, your legs trying to close, but his palms keep them spread, “can’t keep a man from his vices, can we baby?”

And his tongue teases your cum that pooled from your orgasm, the tip hot and wet as it tastes it, “tastes when better coming from this filthy princess cunt,” he grins against your thigh, teeth grazing your skin, making you lurch.

“T-Toru, please,” fuck you hated how needy you sounded, but you needed more — but he’s leaning away, pressing his cheek against the soft plush of your thigh.

“Need you to do something me first, sweetheart,” and his fingers are drawing teasing infinities on your thighs, “tell me how much you want me,”

“Fuck you,” you groan, “I know what you’re gonna say,” you add, cutting off his snappy retort of “I’m trying to,” “I want you, Satoru, please, I’ve wanted this for too long,” and your voice grows more teasing, “how long is my husband going to keep me waiting?”

And his eyes darken, the slight flush on his cheeks growing deeper, as his mouth presses a wet kiss to your sopping pussy, “good girl, think you deserve a reward,” and he’s manhandling your thighs, spreading them wide, as he buries his face in your cunt, “such a good little wife deserves to be eaten out,”

And eating is exactly what he does - you had only seen Satoru eat sweets with the same voracity he devoured you, pressing his thick fingers into your thighs as he splayed you out as his mouth pressed wet kisses to your dripping lips. His hot tongue drags up the length of your cunt, “best fucking thing I’ll ever taste, know what my last meal will be,” he’s murmuring against you, making you twitch, as he looks up at you with half lidded eyes and saliva and slick covered lips, “awww my pretty pussy begging to be filled? Well I can do that for you, baby,” and he’s burying his tongue in your messy hole.

The moan that leaves your lips leaves his cock harder and hurting, he didn’t know you could make such a lewd noise, and he couldn’t wait to make you make it again and again. He’s making out with your pussy at this mouth, your hips doing their best to grind against him, desperate for more, more, more.

And your fingers find his shoulders first, before sliding up to his hair, pressing him further against you, “you’re so fucking cute,” he murmurs, as he spreads your folds with his thumbs before tongue fucking you. His tongue teases and abuses your walls, deeper and deeper, before he pulls back to flick his tongue over your clit, making you moan even louder, “neighbors are gonna hear you at this rate, baby,” but he only sucks at your clit, harshly, “oh well, they know we’re newlyweds,” he’s humming as his ears hear your broken whines and pants, body tensed up against his.

And you’re so wet now, your slick drips down his jaw, mixed with his spit, “you’re all mine now, baby, can’t live without tasting you now—“ and he groans when your hips buck into his mouth again, feeling your walls twitch, “I know you’re close, Princess, tell me how good it feels,”

“S’good, Toru, I can’t—“ you’re pulling at his soft white locks now, making him grunt, and you fall apart, back arching as you cum as all you can hear are the squelching sounds of his tongue and mouth as he continues to eat you out through your orgasm.

And you’re twitching under him as he sucks up every bit of your cum, “so fucking good for me,” he’s finally pulling himself from your messy pussy, “can’t wait to feel you around me, should’ve known you have a little princess cunt,”

And he’s licking his lips and chin clean, as you watch him with half lidded eyes, still panting, as your eyes skim down his body, his jacket had been thrown aside at some point, but his now wrinkled shirt is only messily untucked from his dress pants, and disheveled was too good of a look on him, but you rather see those clothes on the floor of your bedroom, “you’re still annoyingly dressed,” you manage between breaths, still aching from his ministrations, “strip,”

He’s raising an eyebrow, a wicked grin on his lips, “So demanding for someone who was moaning my name a second ago,” but you pull yourself up, supporting yourself on a shaky arm while you use the other to tug on his tie, smashing his lips to yours.

You unfurl the very tie you tied, fingers flying to unbutton his shirt, “Made me feel so good, baby,” and now you were kneeling in front of him, your release slipping down your thighs, as you slipped his shirt off his shoulders, tossing it aside, heated eyes raking over his bare chest, tongue running over your lips, “only fair if I repay the favor,”

You’re undoing his belt for him, pulling it free from the loops, as your hand grazes his noticeable bulge in his suit pants, “surprised you haven’t ripped through,” you squeeze lightly, making his hips jerk, as he pouts all too cutely — and now you knew why he always teased you, “didn’t you tell me to have patience, love?”

“Your husband is running low on that at the moment, never been one to be patient, sweetheart,” he’s gritting his teeth, as you slip his pants off leaving him only in boxers.

Your eyes are glued to his erection, visible through the damp front of his boxers, wet with his precum, “so fuckin’ big, even better than I thought,” you say almost with reverence, and his lip quivers at the praise, a quiet groan leaving his throat. You raise an eyebrow, “like to be praised, baby boy?”

And he swallows, adam's apple bobbing, sweat on his forehead from his treatment of you, but a red flush deepens on his skin, “Princess,” it’s half a warning and half a plea—and morphs into a whimper as your fingers tease the head of his cock through his boxers, rubbing his precum into the fabric, “f-fuck, s’good with those hands, sweetheart,”

“Imagine how much better it’d be with your boxers out of the way,” you say leaning down and licking at the tip through the sticky fabric, as his head falls back with a soft moan, “can’t wait to feel this between my legs,” as you kiss the clothed tip, two fingers slipping in only to snap the waistband of the boxers against his skin, and he’s biting back a moan, a pout on his kiss ruined lips, “god, you’re so pretty,”

Another noise in the back of his throat, “Fuck, Princess,” he hissed, as you finally spare him, pulling his boxers off, his erection slapping against his too fucking incredible abs — how was he so unfairly perfect? He was so gorgeous — more long than girthy, but he was so thick still, and flushed red with pearly pre-cum at the tip. Each vein and curve felt as if he was made for you.

“All this for me, baby?” You tease, as his mouth opens and then closes as your fingers tease the head of his cock, a sharp inhale that keeps echoing in your ears, “all turned on from eating me out, huh?” You move close, nearly straddling him, but you don’t let your cunt brush against his cock — not yet.

And his dick twitches in your hand, “Sweetheart,” he whimpers, eyes nearly glassy with need, “such a fucking tease,”

And your lips curl, “Match made in heaven, baby,” you rub your thumb against his flushed tip, spreading the pre-cum along his shaft, “can’t wait to taste you, wonder if you taste as sweet as what you eat,” licking your lips, and he’s biting his lip, “tell me what you want, Toru,”

“Y’know what I want, Princess,” he’s panting as you lean forward to kiss him, lips sliding against his, just as your palm starts to stroke him, his moan is nearly pornographic, words spilling from his mouth, “want your pretty pussy around my cock, sweetheart, plesse,”

“Not so fast, baby,” you hum, your other hand moving to tease his balls, achingly full, judging by the gasp that left his throat, “wanna take my time with you, like you did with me, right?” And he breaks your kiss with a whine, “you feel so good in my hands, Toru, been thinking about this cock for too long,” and he’s grunting, lips parted as he pants, burying his face in your shoulder.

“How good?” he mumbles, and you’re grinning even wider — the great Satoru Gojo fell to pieces with only your touch and some praise, his face beautifully flushed as you tug him by the back of his hair, thumb running over his undercut as you do.

“So good that I wanna make you fall apart over and over until my name is the only thing on your lips,” you squeeze the base of his dick, making his hips jump, “gonna be a good boy for me and let me do it?”

And he’s nodding, utterly fucked out even before you’ve even started. And you guide him to the end of the bed, as you get on your knees for him, his gaze darkening as he watches you lean down to press your lips to the tip of his weeping erection, making him groan your name. And you trace his slit with the tip of your tongue, tasting his salty release, “How long you gonna tease me baby? I’m being so good for you,” he’s whining, his baby blues fluttering with lust as he looks down at you, choking as he sees how his precum paints your lips, “please, fuck, just—“

And you finally guide his cock into your mouth, and he’s jerking at the sensation and groaning as he watches your pretty little mouth take his length — those same smart lips that always had a reply for everything, the ones he’d jerked off to the thought of this very situation — you on your knees for him, the ones he’d wanted around him for so long — it was too much.

He almost blew his load all too fast, your warm mouth all too accommodating to his cock, as your wet walls and tongue swirl around him, tasting and sucking, your fingers grasping his thighs. And you bob up and down his length, the weight of his cock making the ache between your legs worse, and your eyes flicker up, and moan as you watch him.

He’s so fucking gorgeous — panting and so fucked out, as his lips part for you, your name leaving his kissed red lips, teeth baring down on his bottom lip, “Fuck, my little wife is so pretty on her knees,” as his hands settle on your head, watching you sink your mouth down on his cock, pleasure running up his spine, as his thick fingers dig into your scalp, “so nasty, baby, fuuuuck, gonna fuck your throat at this rate,” he groans, “how’d you get so good at this baby? Don’t answer that,” he adds, a growl in his words, and you almost giggle around his dick.

“Learned so I could blow you, husband, after all, this mouth is yours,” you grin, and his lips curl too and then they part as he grunts, as you press teasing kisses along his length before sliding it back into your mouth, beginning to let the tip hit the back of your throat. You gag on him, making him moan, as he helps you deepthroat him, his hips thrusting against you lightly, his white pubes brushing against your face.

And he’s moaning even louder, as he watches you, drool slipping down your chin as he fucks your mouth, tongue massaging him as he did, “Made just to fuck me, huh? Want my load that bad, Princess?” And his words have your eyes rolling back as he’s moving against you, his cock twitching telling you that he’s close, “shiiit, fuck, my wife’s a slut for me, gonna swallow my cum baby?”

“Only for you,” you pull away a moment, a string of spit connecting your lips to his dick, smiling, before you slip him back into your too eager mouth, and you hollow your cheeks, the lewd noises of your tongue and mouth sending him over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, gonna cum, baby, can I cum in—“ and you make his tip brush your throat again as you suck, looking at him with half lidded, dilated eyes. And he spills into your mouth, hot cum down your throat, as he holds your head gently in place, “shit Princess,” his hips jumping at the sight of you, cum and spit slipping from the corner of your mouth as you pull his cock from you, “s’good for me,”

He’s still panting, as you climb into his lap properly, his cock sliding against your cunt, making his face twist in pleasure, as you lick your mouth clean of him, wiping your chin, “Taste so good, Toru,” you hum, his eyes half lidded with pleasure, chest still heaving, as he leans back on shaky arms, “you may be my favorite meal, but I think I rather,” you grind on his lap teasingly dragging his tip against your messy cunt, “have you cum inside me,”

And he gives a delicious gasp, “baby, too sensitive,” but you’re tilting his chin back as you meet his lips, both of you moaning as you taste yourselves on the other’s lips, “you’re gonna be the death of me, Princess,” he’s chuckling, as he starts to grab your thighs, putting you properly into his lap, “you gonna ride me like a good little princess? Fuck yourself on my cock?”

How does he have the upper hand when you’re the one on top?

As you feel yourself clench around nothing at his words, and he’s sliding your body back and forth, his cock slapping and sliding against your wrecked cunt, so close to sinking in. His hand bears down on your ass, slapping it, before his fingers squeeze it, making you jump against him, your chest brushing against his, “you like that huh?” he’s grinning, as he kisses you again, his lips sliding against you, swallowing your moans eagerly, “what do you want, baby? Remember to say please,” he adds, and you want to roll your eyes, but his fingers rub your clit, and any protest you had fled your mind.

“Please,” and you’re using your fingers to part yourself above him, making his eyes roll back, as you grasp his cock, teasing your dripping cunt with the head of his dick, “fuck me,”

And you sink onto him, inch by inch, as your head looks back, your walls squeezing as he parted your folds, “You’re drenching me, sweetheart, fucking perfect princess cunt is gonna wring me dry,” he grunts, as his fingers splay over your hips, grasping but not pushing, letting you go at your pace, “s’good, might just have to fill you up, again and again,” and your pussy twitches at that thought drawing a laugh from him lips, “you want that? My wife wants to be full of my cum,” he’s groaning when you finally fit all of his cock in you, cunt clamping down on him, “trying to break my cock? Don’t have to go that far to keep me, I’m living in this sweet cunt from now on,”

You’re a mess — whining and moaning, your chest bouncing as you begin to move against him, “Toru, so full, s’good,” his own hips jumping against yours, a low growl in his throat, as his hands begin to guide your hips, snapping his own hips as he fucks you onto his own cock, reaching new depths, as your eyes squeeze shut, “fuckfuckfuuuck, Toru,” you’re babbling and moaning his name, again and again — and he just needs more.

And he’s spanking you, hands coming down on your ass, as he grunts, your warm walls twitching and squeezing him, brushing against sweet spots that have both of you groaning, “such a fucking good girl, taking my cock — I know you can take more, baby, my perfect wife,” and he’s capturing your nipple in his mouth, teeth grazing it before he sucks, his hips growing even faster, until his cock finds your special spot.

“Toru, g’nna cum, I—“ And your orgasm hits you, head thrown back as your lips part in a silent scream, toes curling as you wrap your legs around his waist, and he’s fucking you right through — fucking relentless, almost limitless, with his pace, groaning as he watches his the base of his cock covered in your release, a pool of white that almost has him cumming then and there.

“S’ fuckinh pretty, Princess, and all mine,” he says, as you moan, as he slows his pace, your face buried in his shoulder, as you come down from your high, and he’s tilting your head.

But he isn’t done yet.

In a moment, he’s pulling his cock out — a whine parting your mouth — as he manhandles you so that you’re flat on your back, your ankles thrown over his shoulders, and spread wide for him. You’re the picture of filth — lips in a kiss ruined pout, chest rising and falling as you gaze up at him with needy eyes, and your perfect cunt leaking and drenched for him — he could see everything — all of you, the way your cum slid down your hole, the way it clenched around nothing, the pretty pink insides he was desperate to make his.

He licks his lips, “soaking my lap and sheets with your cum, baby, such a dirty girl,” and he’s spreading your lips, letting your release trickle out.

“Satoru,” you whine as he runs a finger over your still twitching pussy, as if begging for his cock back, “please, too sensitive,”

“Please what, sweetheart? Because your cunt seems to disagree,” his chuckle is a deep noise that reverberates through his chest as he leans down to press your lips to yours in a languid kiss, “such a nerdy princess, imagine how’d your family would feel — seeing you beg for my cock, huh? Not the chaste little princess anymore? Nah, you’re my filthy baby,” and you’re whimpering, “tell me baby, I know you’re not nearly fucked dumb yet, you’re too smart for that,” he coos, a grin on his lips as he stares with that damn crystalline gaze.

And finally he’s sinking into you again, cock sliding back into your soaked cunt, “God, I love you,” he murmurs, as he’s somehow deeper inside you, pussy pressed against all of him, “so fucking perfect, baby, better than I imagined,” he’s pussydrunk now as he rails into you, and you’re grasping at him, the only sound in your ears is the squelch of him as he filled you again and again as his chest presses against yours, fucking you long and hard, “you’re all mine now, baby. My wife, my body, my love, my soul — all of it,” he growls his last words, grunting as his hips begin to stutter as he kisses your sweet spot again and again, “you want me to cum in this sweet princess pussy, baby? Wanna make me a daddy?”

Your cunt twitches at that, and he laughs, “did you just get wetter, baby? Didn’t think you could do that,”

But you’re only moaning, you’re so fuckin’ close but you want him to cum with you - wanna feel him sink into as he does. And so you’re meeting his lips in a searing kiss, his hips thrusting harder and longer, “give me your baby, Toru, breed me,” you whisper, words slurring as you pant and stutter, all sense had left your mind - and all you wanted was him.

“Fuck, Princess,” he’s grunting as he pistons in and out of you, bed groaning under his thrusts, until your walls clamp down again and again on him as you cum, throbbing and needy as you moan his name, back arching, “g’nna cum,”

And he does, his cock hitting the deepest part of you as he does, his warm seed filling you up, as his hips continue to fuck it deeper into you, making you whimper, as he just keeps on cumming ropes, “oh, f-fuck, Princess,” he rasps as he kisses you, sloppy and wet, as he pants, watching your face come down him your high, eyelashes fluttering as you look up at him, “so beautiful,” he murmurs, as he rubs his thumb down your lips.

He pulls out slowly, groaning as he watches your mixed releases leak out of you, dragging the tip of his weeping erection down your cunt, a whine leaving your throat again, “So fucking filthy, baby,” he hums, a shiteating grin on his lips, as he collects his cum on his fingers, and pushes it back inside of you, as you jump, a small pout on your lips making him laugh, “gotta make good on my promise, baby,” and he’s kissing you silly again, “gotta get you pregnant and full for me,”

His body is sticky with sweat, as he eases your aching legs down, as he kisses up your body, nosing your neck, “So perfect for me, Princess, I love you,” he says so earnestly that it makes you melt, as you pull him into a kiss, “suppose we consummated our marriage now, does this mean we get to have a honeymoon now?” he’s grinning, as you roll your eyes, “come on, don’t you want to travel?”

And you laugh, “I don’t think we would even leave the hotel room if you had your way,” and he’s pressing his thumb against your bottom lip and dragging down, before kissing you, sliding his tongue into your mouth to taste you.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” And your breath catches a moment, before you sigh, and he grins again, “so?”

You roll over to grab your phone, kissing his lips, pulling up possible destinations, “where are we going?”

“Satoru, we’re at the office, uhmph—“ Satoru’s kissing you even before the elevator doors shut, and you can’t help but not care if anyone saw either of you making out, his talented tongue stealing your logic from under you, before he’s pulling away, your lipstick nearly smeared all over his face. You bite back a laugh, before using your thumb to wipe away the evidence of your kiss, “we’ve been here less than a minute, and you’re already making a mess,”

And his lips catch your thumb between them, kissing it sweetly, “What do I do better than make a mess of you, princess?” and he’s pressing sweet kisses to your fingertips, before you’re pulling him back for another kiss, right before you hear the elevator ding, and you scramble apart.

Your cheeks flushed, as you stepped onto the floor of the newly merged company that was formerly your families’ individual companies, now united as one — just as you and Satoru were now — which was why he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of you. The two of you had come into the office to finalize the transition for your staff, each of you dealing with formalities on either side, but Satoru did little to help your focus on the process with his blatant stares and sneaky touches.

Twice already he had pulled you into his office, only to have you either pressed against his door, or bent over his desk. And god, you sat in your office, biting your lip as you thought about paying him another visit — and fuck, this is what he wanted.

You pull your phone out and text him: You suck.

And his reply is instant. If I recall from last night, you’re the one who sucks ;)

You’ve left me high and dry, Satoru, and I shouldn’t be thinking about fucking you in the office. Especially with both of our parents around in meetings all day.

He replies, Nah, that’s exactly why you should be thinking about it.

And then another text.

Imagine our parents walking in while you’re under my desk doing what you do best, you’d be quiet for me, Princess? Wouldn’t let us get caught when I fuck your pretty mouth?

You’re biting your lip — Fucker, I hate you.

Nah, you love me, a little too much, Princess. Another text — especially the way you were moaning my name last night.

And there’s a knock at your door in that moment — “Come in,” you intone, and you were ninety-nine percent sure that was Satoru — ready to make good on his promise — and then white hair visible as the door swings open, “Father,”

It was a Gojo, but not the one you expected — your father in law, instead of his son.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, lips curling in a smile that was all too the same as his son — but missing the same charm, the distinct softness that made you adore Satoru was not present in his father — nor was his father very present at all — except to chastise his son on how he thought his son should live his life.

And he was interrupting — interrupting you about to sext his son and your husband from the confines of your office, but you only offered a smile, “Not at all, can I help you with something, Father?”

He’s shutting the door behind him, before taking a seat across from you, “I just wanted to have a chat with you — it’s been so long since we’ve been able to see the two of you — we still haven’t had you over since you’ve returned from your honeymoon,”

“It’s been very busy,” and it had been, but not too busy to see Satoru’s family. Since the launch party, you and Satoru had agreed to steer clear of his father for some time, until Satoru could develop some more healthy boundaries with him. And so you could get through a conversation without strangling him (although Satoru wasn’t opposed to seeing that), “with the merger and Satoru and I trying to spend time to get know each other again,”

“Of course,” but his smile told you he was unconvinced, “I wanted to talk to you about something important, I’ve seen how close you and Satoru have gotten since the engagement and the wedding, and I was happy to see you pushing him in the right direction,”

“”Pushing him?’” you repeat, raising an eyebrow.

“With the merger, I haven’t seen him so focused, so determined, and I knew my suggestion to my wife to have you marry him was the right choice,” and you stare at him, mouth agape, as anger slowly melts from your stomach into every vein of his body, fingers curling into fists.

“Excuse me?”

He leans back in his chair, “When the idea of the merger was floated by me, I knew I wanted a condition to be your marriage to Satoru,” his eyes glance over the things on your desk — the stacked folders, the paperwork, and the pictures of your family and of Satoru, “you’re driven, you’re focused, you’re perfect — I knew you could change him, and I was right,” his lips curl, and you can’t hold your tongue anymore.

“Maybe what your son needed was someone to support him,” your words are even, but your body is tense, “he needed someone not to scold him, to put him down, to whisper doubts in his ear when he needed help,” you rise from your chair slowly, “I respect you as my father-in-law and as my family’s old friend and co-owner of this company, but,” you glare at him, “no one insults my husband’s capabilities, and makes me takes credit for his achievements,”

The old man’s teeth grit, and he opens to respond, when there’s a curt knock at the door, and Satoru enters, “Old man, how about you go chat with the other old farts in the room? Pretty sure you’re bleeding investors by the second the longer you talk with my wife,” he slides a small smile to you that tells you he heard everything.

Satoru’s father shoots a glare at both of you, before leaving the room in a huff, door shutting behind him, and you sigh, rubbing your temples, “I’m sorry if I made things worse—”

And he’s pulling you into a hug, arms snaking around your waist and pulling you against him, “Thank you, Princess,” he murmurs into your ear, making you tense, “oh you like that, huh?” and you roll your eyes, laughing.

“Even in a moment like this, huh?” you lean up and whisper in his ear, “I don’t just like it, I love it,” and it’s his turn to shiver, his cheeks burning, “you’re so cute,” you grin, before leaning up and kissing him. He melts into the kiss, his fingers cupping your cheek to deepen the kiss, pulling your waist against his, and you feel his arousal pressed against your thigh.

You pull away, tilting your head, you snort, “Already?”

And he bites his lip, “Take some responsibility, baby, it’s your fault,” and he leans down and grazes your ear with his teeth, “not my fault my hot wife defended my honor and then decided to whisper sweet nothings in my ear,”

You hum, guiding his lips to yours, your teeth graze over his bottom lip, “And how should I take responsibility, baby?” and he shudders, crystalline eyes glazed over with lust, “we’re in the office, not very professional,” his fingers unbutton your blouse, so he can lean down and kiss your collarbone.

“I was never very professional to begin with,” he smirks, his teeth grazing over the soft skin, sucking and biting, making you gasp, “don’t be so loud, someone will hear us, what will they think?” he murmurs, with a grin against your skin, as he continues to undo your blouse, as he turns you around so your back is against your chest, he tilts your head to look at your door, “look it’s unlocked, anyone could walk in,” and his fingers sneak down the front of your skirt, fingers teasing your panties, “fuuuck, princess, you’re soaked through — are you more turned on by the idea of getting caught?” and you whimper, only making him grin wickedly against your neck, “my filthy girl, imagine your father walking in, seeing your husband’s fingers down your skirt, legs spread wide like a slut,”

“Satoru,” you’re biting your lip so hard that you wouldn’t be surprised it would bleed, your knees buckling, as his fingers part your dripping folds, “we can’t—”

“We can,” he shushes you, guiding your lips to his, fingers cupping your throat, but he leans back to get confirmation that you were okay, and you lean in again to kiss him, “such a good girl,” You whimper, and he laughs, “gotta break in the new office don’t we?”

And his fingers slip your panties aside, two fingers parting your folds, and you gasp, as he stuffs two fingers into your mouth as well, “Not so loud, Princess, can’t give the office gossip mill something really juicy, now can we?” And his digits start to really fuck you, in and out, the wet squelch ringing in your ears, as his fingers bully and stretch your walls, until they find what they are looking for — your g-spot.

You fall apart, but it’s gushing all over his hand, soaking his hand, as your hand grasps at the fingers in his mouth trying to stifle your noises, “Fuck, Princess, did you just squirt for me?” He’s grinning, “such a sloppy little Princess, look you’re staining the carpet with your cum,” he guides your head to look, seeing the spot on the carpet, as you lean against him, “gotta do this again,”

He kisses you as you moan. Tangled limbs and eager touches, as you guide him over to the desk, as you settle him into the chair, lips still parting as your tongue slips in, “Your turn,” and before he can even react, you’re slipping down to your knees, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, slipping his aching dick out, nearly slapping your face with it, you drag it along your lips, “Like you said, I’m the one who sucks right?” you wink, before you finally lick the length of his cock, tracing the veins to the slit, “you always taste so good, Toru,” and he’s hissing now.

“Fuck, baby, you always so pretty on your knees for me,” and you have to disagree — he’s the one who looks pretty — shirt disheveled, chest rising and falling far too fast, as he looked down at you with his snowy white eyelashes half lidded with a lust ridden gaze — “your pretty mouth is s’fucking perfect, can’t wait to cum down that lovely throat,” he hisses, as his fingers dig into your scalp, urging his cock deeper, his tip brushing against your throat, making you gag.

He opens his mouth to apologize, but you only shake your head, as you do it again, making his hips buck against you, tip hitting your throat again, his composure quickly falling to shreds, as he’s fucking your throat now, biting his lip so hard to keep his groans in, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was bleeding afterwards.

“I-I’m close,” he’s gritting his teeth, but you only redouble your efforts, “so fuckin’ perfect, made to suck this dick—”

And that’s when there’s a knock on the door, making you both freeze. You panic silently — before Satoru is shepherding you under your desk, while he adjusts himself, scooting your chair in more, so his weeping cock is hidden along with you.

“Come in,” Satoru says, as even toned as someone who was just fucking their wife’s throat can manage, “Dad—what a nice surprise,”

And you cover your mouth — fuck it was your dad — Satoru called his dad, “old man” — what the fuck.

“I should be saying that to you son,” you bite your lip, listening to their conversation, “where’s my daughter? And why are you in her office?” and you covered your mouth, shit — you were hiding under your own desk, while Satoru sat in your chair.

Shit, shit, shit.

“I was just waiting for her to come back with lunch,” he manages, and you can almost see the dependable smile on his lips, “she volunteered to get us lunch and she told me to wait here so we could eat together,”

Your father was seemingly convinced after that, but to both of your dismay, sat down to speak with Satoru about business matters. You crouched, utterly bored as you listened to them talk, his erection beginning to wane, and you got an idea in your pretty little head — you grinned — well, Satoru should be careful what he wishes for, or he might just get you blowing him in front of your father.

You start slow — teasing the head with a brush of your fingers, easily could have been an accident, but it nearly makes him jump, as he gives a warning nudge with his foot gently. But then your hand begins to rub him in earnest, fingers using your spit as lube, as you heard your husband stammer over his words to your father. But it was nothing compared to when you closed your mouth over his cock, and began to deepthroat him again.

“Satoru, are you okay?’ you hear your father ask, as you discreetly suck your husband’s cock under his desk, and you can only imagine the delightful shade of red your Toru is turning.

“Sorry, I’m not feeling like myself,” he mumbles, as he grits his teeth in an attempt not to moan, and you can feel his thighs tense as he forces himself not to fuck your mouth as he wants to right now. He’s so close — as much as you like the idea of getting caught, you think Satoru likes it as much or maybe even more — his cock is twitching in your mouth as you suck and swirl your tongue around it, as your fingers dig into your thighs, “I apologize, I’m getting a call. Could you excuse me?”

And your father is oblivious, and excuses himself from the room, door shutting behind him, and Satoru groans, “Fuck, princess, you almost made me cum in front of your dad in this nasty fucking mouth,” and you suck harder, fingers fondling his balls, as his fingers find your locks again, and his hips jerk into your mouth, his white pubes tickling your nose, “thaaat’s it, fuck, so fuckin’ good, i’m close, sweetheart,” he groans, “you want me to cum—“ and you bury his cock deeper into your mouth as an answer, your hands pumping what you couldn’t fit, until he cums down your throat.

You meet his half lidded gaze, swallowing his cum, as you ease off his cock, a mix of cum and saliva connected your lips, “You taste so good,” you lick your lips, as you push the chair a little back and climb out, as you tug his boxers and pants back up, tucking his cock back in, “my favorite treat,”

He smiles, chest still rising and falling fast, “I love you, princess,” so genuinely as he pulls you into a deep kiss.

You giggle, humming against his lips, “So heartfelt after getting your soul sucked out of your dick,” you glance at the door, “do you think anyone heard us?”

He shrugs, as he pulls you into his lap, “I hope they did,” he grins against your neck, as you roll your eyes.

“You’re terrible,” and his lips curl.

“And you love me,” you kiss those same lips you would each day.

“I do.”

~~~~

“What do you wanna do today?” Satoru asks, your legs thrown over his lap, as you read a book you had picked up the other day out on a date with him, and he eats the kikufuku he had insisted on picking up the same day.

“Hmm, I have some ideas,” you hum, hiding your smile with a book, and you don’t need to see his face to know he’s grinning.

“And what’s that, Princess?” he leans forward, plucking the book from your fingers, as you tut at his sugar covered fingers, “shouldn’t you share your feelings with your husband?” And his lips brush against your neck, nose brushing against the soft skin of your nape, inhaling your scent.

“Well I have a surprise for you,” you weren’t planning on giving it to him now, but you pulled a wrapped box from behind the couch cushions, “should I make you wait?”

He’s reaching for the box already, as you laugh, and he’s snatching it from your fingers before you can tease him, “can I open it?” He was so eager, as always.

“Go ahead, baby,” you bite your lip, a small smile on your lips.

He lifts the lid of the wrapped box off, and the first thing his eyes flit across is the word “positive.”

His mouth parts, as he stares at the pregnancy test carefully nestled into the box, “is this—“ his cerulean eyes meet yours, a soft gaze with wonder, “are we—“

“We’re having a baby, Toru,” you nod, and he’s sweeping you into his arms, as you squeak, his body sweeping you up in his, as he buries his face in your neck, “Toru—“

“Is this real?” He murmurs, into your skin, all soft words and soft kisses, “I feel like I’m dreaming,”

“Well I am your dream girl, so maybe don’t be surprised when I pinch you and you wake up,” you pinch his cheek lightly, making his pale skin cutely flushed, pink dusting his cheeks, “no dream here, all real — so I guess you’re just lucky,”

“The luckiest,” he hums, a quiet noise that soothes you, “a beautiful wife, and now,” his fingers graze over your stomach, before lifting the hem of your shirt, to press his lips to it, “and now we’re going to be a family,”

Your lips curl, tilting his chin up so his watery gaze meets your own, thumb rubbing the length of his cheek, “We already were a family,

He raises his eyebrows in mock surprise, “I thought we were mortal enemies,” and you laugh, before shrugging.

“That too,” and he pulls you into his lap, smiling, “but you’re actually pretty cute,”

He gasps mockingly, “Princess, do you have a crush on me? A mere commoner?”

You roll your eyes, pressing a languid kiss to his lips, tasting the lingering sweetness of the kikufuku, “I hate you,” you say, when he knows you mean quite the opposite.

And he only smiles the same way he always did — and the same way he always would — “love you too, Princess."

✩ a/n: so this was also inspired by a character AI made by @/fairybaby that has been living in my mind rent free for far too long. thank you to @/laneymusings for being the best emotional support from writing to formatting to everything in between

✩ tag list: @ryliobrow, @getosho3cakes, @delaneyyyy, @soukokufan, @purplscnerie, @solarlunarsstuff, @growingupnrealizing, @forest-fruits-jam, @achipstea1ingseagull, @fruitscall, @starplasma-cujoh, @crashing-a-jeep, @mwah-chia, @vorschlaghannah, @xrysakts, @emonaculate

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sab [mlist]#gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk au

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srjlvr · 2 months

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HOW TO NOT SURVIVE HIGHSCHOOL

LYING to his friends about having a girlfriend was definitely not on his ‘how to survive highschool’ list and now, he has to convince his biggest rival that will surely laugh at his face, to fake date him.

PAIRING. rugby player+rival!sunghoon X rival-fem!reader (mentions of the rest of enha, aespa’s karina and boynextdoor taesan)

GENRE. childhood enemies to fake dating to lovers, angst, comedy, fluff and idk what more.

WARNINGS. young sunghoon’s a bitch, so is young y/n, also older sunghoon’s a bitch and so is y/n, manipulating here and there, misunderstandings, miscommunications, definitely curse words (seventh graders already know how to curse here!) , horrible humor, ik its weird but all of the mentioned idols here are the same age! (lmk if i missed something pls!)

WORD-COUNT. 10.4k+

NOTE. ok fine! bully me for not knowing how to make a pretty cover, its the story that matters though, right? anyways besties i really dunno when will be my next update so please be patient!! i miss writing and being here 24/7 honestly but its just been really hard for me.

“i need you to fake date me”

“no”

“please?”

“are you seriously begging right now?”

“yes?”

“that’s fun, get on your knees and beg more”

“are you nuts? i’ll never do that”

“fine then, pay me for that”

“how much?”

“two”

“dollars?”

“billions”

if there’s one thing sunghoon can say about himself is that he’s quite an organized person, therefore he made a list for highschool.

a list that will help him survive his last years in highschool and will help him stay sane at the same time.

he called his list “how to survive highschool”, creative, right?

he’s been following his list and so far managed to survive just perfectly.

staying in rugby team with his friends? check!

“sunghoon! catch!” he heard a voice calling him and saw a ball coming right at him, he caught the ball and ran with it, then passing the ball to riki, his friend and teammate who scored the game and ended it with a win.

“that was a good one! take a break and return in thirty minutes!” the rugby team’s coach clapped and sent the players off for break.

“hey! i got your exam grades here! come collect them!” jungwon, one of sunghoon’s friends waved the exams to show the players he got the them in his hands.

sunghoon went up to jungwon and took his own.

get high grades? check!

“i got A+ again!” he looked at the grade and excitedly smiled.

“ugh, you’re making me sick being the nerdy rugby player” jay, another friends of his rolled his eyes.

“you’re just jealous my grades are higher than your chances with your crush” sunghoon joked.

“oh you—“ “enough! no fighting on break time” heeseung cut jay in the middle of his sentence.

“let’s just get something to snack, it’s lunch time anyway” sunoo suggested and they all nodded.

“you guys ready?” riki asked before they entered the hallway.

get popular enough so students will freak out when they see you? check!

“sunghoon! i got you this chocolate snack! please accept this and enjoy it” a one random student handed him the chocolate snack.

before he could take it, jake snatched it and smiled, “i’ll take that, thank you” and left the girl and sunghoon speechless.

“dude what the fuck?” he asked his friend.

“it could be poisoned for all you care” jake shrugged but proceeded to take a bite from the snack as they kept walking.

“let’s just sit right there!” jungwon pointed at one lunch table as they entered the cafeteria.

“really? right in front of where y/n is sitting?” sunoo whispered in his ear.

“sure, let’s do that” sunghoon replied and started walking towards the table.

“um, i’ll go grab the snacks” riki said and ran to get the snacks.

“did he just-“ “oh, it’s going to be interesting” jake smirked and watched sunghoon as he walked really closer to you, who was sitting with your back towards him.

“so, what are your plans for the weekend?” your friend karina asked as she took a bite of your food.

“oh i don’t really know, probably chilling at home and—“ you were cut off middle sentence by someone bumping into you, causing you to spill some of your food on your uniform.

“what the fuck?” you turned around and saw the person behind it, “should’ve known it was you, park”

get yourself a rival so it’ll be more fun and interesting….? check!

“sorry, couldn’t see you there” he smirked.

“just go away” you rolled your eyes at him and turned to your friend who looked awkward as hell.

“sure” he started to walk but bumped into you again, causing you to spill more food on your clothes.

“oops! that happened again” he chuckled and continued to walk to the table.

“that’s it” that was your last straw.

you got up and took your water bottle, “y/n dont—“ your friend tried to stop you but it was too late already.

as you got closer to sunghoon, you poured all your water on him.

“what the—“ “sorry!! i slipped over and spilled some on you!!” you replied with a smirk and stormed off.

his friends who were watching the whole thing from afar, walked closer to now drenched sunghoon and started laughing.

“damn, that was fun. do it again!” jay cheered.

“here sunghoon i got you a towel!” a student walked up to him and handed him a towel to dry himself.

“thank you, i’ll take it” sunoo said and took the towel.

sunghoon glared at him, “what? you’re already used to being drenched by sweat, it’s the same thing, no?”

“i hate him” you rolled your eyes.

“say, what’s the deal with you and sunghoon? you never really told me and i just assumed he annoys you because he’s a nerdy rugby player,” she chuckled, “but it seems more than that”

“park sunghoon has been on my ass ever since seventh grade” you sighed.

“why? what happened on seventh grade?” she asked, leaving everything she was busy on behind and crossing her hands to focus on you and you only.

before seventh grade you and sunghoon were best friends, hell, your parents could’ve sworn that one day you’ll end up marrying each other.

you were stuck like a glue, always around each other and doing basically everything together, no one could tear you apart.

until, seventh grade happened.

you were the top student in class, you aced everything, from math to arts and received praises from all teachers. for the last few days of school, the teacher wanted you to show the whole school your arts project.

you drew your favorite view, which was your house garden, the teacher got so excited over the drawing and decided she wants you to show it to everyone else too.

a day before the last day of school, you were busy doing the last touches of your art, sunghoon was busy doing his usual, which was to annoy you.

“sunghoon stop! i need to focus” you scoffed.

sunghoon shrugged, “but i’m bored”

“go play around with others or something” you sighed.

he shook his head, “not when i can annoy you!”

he walked back and forth, even twirled around, until he became dizzy and accidentally pushed you over your drawing, making it look like a big mess over the canvas.

you let out a yelp and looked at it with teary eyes.

“i….i’m sorry!” he quickly said.

“get out!” you yelled without even looking at him.

“it can be fixed! just a few little—“ “i asked you to get out! you ruined my drawing! how will i be able to show it to everyone now?” at this point you started crying.

you didn’t show your unfinished and ruined art in front of everyone, instead it was sunghoon’s drawing that was shown to everyone.

your teacher saw the ruined art and decided to change the plans by taking sunghoon’s project and showing it to everyone.

jealousy was eating you alive. it was supposed to be you up there on stage, showing the project to everyone and getting the compliments, you deserve that after working so hard.

it was sunghoon’s fault, all of it.

before you walked away with your parents, sunghoon called you a few times. at first you ignored his callings, but your parents, unbeknown to the whole story behind it, stopped your tracks and told you to go to sunghoon.

with heavy steps you walked closer to him, “what do you want?” you coldly asked.

“i wanted to apologize” he took a deep breath.

“great, you just did”

“wait—“

“we’re good now, i forgive you” you lied. you just didn’t feel like hearing his excuses and explanations.

“wow, really?”

“yeah” no.

although you told sunghoon you forgive him, things became really awkward between the two of you.

summer vacation arrived and you did your best to ignore him, except the times where he left you no choice and just randomly showed up at your house.

eighth grade was cool between the two of you, but you still held strong feelings against him.

he tried his best to overcome the weird awkwardness between the two of you, you’re too important for him to let go. he was honestly so scared of entering highschool without you by his side.

the second half of eighth grade was the last straw between the two of you.

you started crushing over someone in your class, and started hanging out with him, slowly getting close to the guy.

sunghoon, who was carefully watching you from behind, didn’t like your new crush, he seemed like bad news to him, getting close not only to you, but to other girls as well.

your parents, who were strict that time, warned you about dating a guy at such young age, and sunghoon had to do what he had to do.

“park, what the fuck?” you came up to him and pushed him.

“what?” he asked surprised.

“why the fuck did you tell my parents about him?” you shout.

“oh,” he rolled his eyes, “so it’s about him”

“of course it’s about him! you know about my long time crush on him!”

“he’s bad news y/n” sunghoon tried to warn you.

“no, you’re bad news! i should’ve known not to forgive you at all” you scoffed and walked away.

“y/n, wait!” sunghoon called you but you were faster than the light and suddenly was nowhere to be found.

“uh oh” jay, who was there to witness everything pat his friend’s back, “you fucked up”

“yeah, thanks jay i really needed that” sunghoon rolled his eyes.

“really? going behind her back and telling her parents about some guy? you could’ve just talked with her about it” jay snapped.

“it’s not that easy”

“it sure isn’t, and so will be your attempts to talk with her”

jay was right, sunghoon tried everything to get to talk with you, followed you everywhere, sent you numerous texts and calls until you had to block his number, even showed up at your house a few times. nothing helped.

so sunghoon, being the cool teenager he is, decided to move on. he doesn’t need you anymore anyways.

nineth grade came and so did a new student that sunghoon couldn’t take his eyes off of.

slowly he tried his best to get closer to her and spending more time with her, he was so close to confess his feelings towards her.

“did you do that on purpose?” she asked, nothing but hatred in her eyes as she looked at sunghoon.

“do what…?” he asked confused.

“did you tell the whole school about my family issues?” she raised her voice.

“what? no! i would never—“

“forget it, you’re such a jerk!” she yelled and stormed out.

“wait!!” he called her and was about to run after her but his eyes caught a glimpse of a person smirking.

he clenched his jaw and moved closer to the figure, “what the fuck did you do?” he asked.

“nothing, i don’t know what you’re talking about” the person shrugged.

“don’t play dumb, y/n. i know you had something to do with it” he rolled his eyes.

“still don’t know what you’re talking about” you shrugged again, “maybe someone’s just taking a revenge on you, i don't know” you added and left with a smirk.

“i hate you choi y/n!” he shout. “it’s mutual park sunghoon!”

“oh now i get it! yes girl! give him the revenge he deserves to get” karina cheered and you nodded.

“but, don’t you think he ruined your chances with your crush just because he was jealous?” she asked and you glared at her, “i mean, even your parents could’ve sworn you’d end up getting married”

“even if he was jealous, he should’ve confronted me about it” you replied and she nodded.

“you’re right” she sighed, “but what if he was, i don’t know, scared?”

“are you seriously on his side now?” you asked in disbelief.

“never!” she hugged you and you giggled.

“let’s get you cleaned up, i think i have an extra uniform in my locker”

“oh no, walking in school hallways like that is like just straight up asking to be bullied”

“i won’t let anyone bully you bae, let’s go”

“by the way! all of you are invited to my brother’s wedding, no single hoes are invited though, that includes you sunghoon” heeseung chuckled,

“sweet! when is it?” jake asked.

“in a month”

“what? you cannot be serious!” sunghoon complained.

“sorry, your single ass will not be able to handle this wedding” heeseung shrugged.

“even riki has a partner before you” sunoo laughed.

“guys just realized sunghoon is really the only one single here” jungwon added which made everyone laugh and make jokes about him.

“all of you can shut up because i actually do have a girlfriend”

heeseung was obviously joking about sunghoon not being invited because he’s single, but he was not expecting to hear his friend confessing that he actually is seeing someone now.

sunghoon was also not expecting that big lie to come out of his mouth, but it was already too late.

“what?” jungwon spoke first after the silence that surrounded after his confession.

“i do have a girlfriend” no sunghoon, you can still get away with it and say you were joking.

sunghoon’s list of surviving highschool has a lot of tasks still left untouched, but this one was definitely not, and was never written, as one of his tasks on his list.

lie to your friends about having a girlfriend? definitely not on the list, stop with the lies!!!

his friends looked at him in shock. riki dropped the spoon he was about to shove into his mouth, jake choked on his water and heeseung pat his back, jay almost fainted and jungwon and sunoo froze in their place.

“what?” sunghoon asked.

they all burst into laughter, “that was a good one! i almost believed you!” riki wiped his tears that fell down because of the amount of laughter he let out.

“i’m serious!” sunghoon scoffed.

“you? a girlfriend? sunghoon, i saw your ‘how to survive highschool’ list, you had a ‘no matter what, stay single until you finish highschool!’ line!” jay chuckled.

“i can break one line its not a big deal, besides, she’s definitely worth it” sunghoon smiled.

he’s talking about no one, no one comes to his mind at the moment, but he still keeps on with his lie.

“will we be able to see her before the wedding?” heeseung asked.

“a day before maybe” sunghoon nodded.

“hey! we’re already late for practice! get up everyone now!!” jungwon checked the clock and hurried everyone up.

sunghoon knows he fucked up, real bad. he never had a normal conversation with a girl in highschool, and let’s not forget about the fact that everyone talks to him as if he has some kind of royal blood.

the only real friendship he had with a girl was with you in his childhood. and you’re the only girl who can talk back to him without feeling threatened. wait, that’s it!

“i need you to fake date me”

curse him and his very awful impulse control.

as soon as sunghoon finished his practice he went to the library, figured he’d find you there and apparently he was right.

the book you were reading was long forgotten as you tried to process what you just heard.

“no” you replied shortly.

“please?” he sounded so desperate.

“are you seriously begging right now?”

“yes?”

“that’s fun, get on your knees and beg more” you smirked.

“are you nuts? i’ll never do that” he frowned and rolled his eyes.

“fine then, pay me for that”

“how much?”

“two”

“dollars?”

“billions”

“hell no”

“kiss my ass goodbye then” you shrugged.

“you’re unbelievable”

“said the one who barged into the library and started begging me to date him”

“yeah, it’ll help you become popular” he slightly nodded.

“right, you’re already popular and have multiple fans or whatever, why don’t you just ask them?”

“it’ll just make things worse!”

“fuck off sunghoon, i’m not going to fake date you and help you because of some stupid lie you told” you rolled your eyes and got back to reading the book.

he tried begging you once more but at this point you just decided to ignore him until he left.

“what the heck was that?” you asked yourself and shook your head.

“hey y/n!” you heard a voice calling you and you immediately recognized this voice.

it belonged to taesan, your classmate and also your longtime crush. taesan’s quite popular amongst the students, and surprising so, he’s not a rugby player.

you’ve made a pros and cons lists about your few old crushes and also made one about your current crush, taesan.

pros? he’s funny, smart, creative, caring, friendly, kind and would prefer to spend his free time in the library with you.

cons?

“hey sunghoon dude! didn’t see you there, what are you doing here?”

he’s sunghoon’s best friend. that is a BIG no no for you.

“just came to check something, studying again?” sunghoon smirked as he looked at you.

did he seriously wait for taesan to come so he could spend more time annoying you?

“yeah, it’s my studying with y/n time, we’ve been doing that for a while” taesan smiled widely and winked at you.

without even noticing your cheeks started to heat up. but your blushing cheeks were already noticed by someone who’s definitely going to use that against you.

“right, i’m not going to interrupt you two, enjoy!” sunghoon said as he gave you one last smirk before turning around and leaving.

“isn’t he so weird sometimes? i can definitely understand why you hate his guts” taesan chuckled and you nodded.

“how are you today anyway? didn’t see you that much” he smiled.

“so far so good, you?”

“great now that i’m here with you”

you tried your best to stop your racing heart beats after hearing what he said and making eye contact with him.

you just giggled and opened a book right away, “let’s just start with this book!”

after some time that felt like half an hour to you (but was actually two hours or so) it was time to go back home.

“let me walk you home” taesan suggested.

“it’s okay, i live closeby, if so i’m the one who needs to walk you home” you giggled.

“i insist”

you didn’t reply to him and just walked out of the library as he followed you.

“oh hey y/n, taesan!” you stopped your trace when you noticed sunghoon standing right outside the library.

“sunghoon? why are you still here?” taesan asked, emphasizing the last question.

“just walked by after dropping yeji at her friend’s house, also i promised y/n i’ll walk her home, right y/n?”

you looked at him confused but he gave you the ‘you better say yes now’ look, and besides, you didn’t want to bother taesan with the long walk.

“right, i completely forgot, i’m really sorry taesan, next time i’ll be the one to walk you home!” you said and he nodded.

“don’t worry about it!” he said, quite confused since he never saw the both of you getting along and actually walking home together, even though you live right across each other.

sunghoon took your hand and dragged you away from taesan.

“what the fuck park?”

“walking him home? seriously? your lazy ass could never” he teased and you rolled your eyes.

“fuck off sunghoon, why are you really here?”

“i’ve got a deal to offer” he stopped you from walking and you glared at him.

“no”

“you haven’t heard it yet”

“i don’t care, it’s a no from me, i can never trust you” you scoffed and started walking away.

“i’ll help you to get close to taesan!” he said and you froze for a second, “i don’t need your help”

“oh but you do” he smirked as he figured he got your weakness point, “you’ve been acting awfully trying to hide your little crush on him”

“what do you need?” you asked, half convinced.

“a month” he said straightforwardly.

“are you—“

“a month of fake dating and then i’ll let you tell everyone you broke up with me and broke my heart and whatever you want” he licked his lips, “i’ll help you get closer to taesan too”

“i need a day to think about it” you sighed.

“fine” he said, full of hopes and prayers.

as you arrived you bid your goodbyes for the first time in years, and it never felt so weird as much as it just did.

as you entered the house you took a quick shower and ate, right after that you ran to get your phone a called karina.

“i think you should do it, a month wouldn’t be so bad, plus, he did say he’ll help you get close to taesan” she said.

“can i really trust him though? he ruined my chances with my crush once already” you groaned.

“you’re right, don’t trust that guy”

“but he’s also the only one that could get me close to taesan”

“right again, trust him fully and agree to that deal”

“you’re not helping me at all!!” you complained.

“i don’t know bae, i guess that if i was you i would’ve probably go with what my heart says”

“cliché much, aren’t we?”

“i didn’t know what to say!”

“i guess i just…”

“really? are you for real? is it really happening right now? i need you to sign this contract right now before you regret” sunghoon’s eyes widened and his lips formed into a little smile.

you rolled your eyes, “don’t make me regret this”

“okay okay, i won’t, let’s just find a spot where we could talk” he said and took your hand.

he dragged you to an empty classroom and closed the door.

“so,” he spoke, “we need rules”

“no shit sherlock”

“can you stop being an actual bitch for a second and hear me out?” he spat and you rolled your eyes.

“i’ll be walking you home, mornings and afternoons no matter what” he said.

“does that really matter? i mean, no one sees us” you sighed.

“that’s what you think, my friends are stalkers it’s actually scary”

“whatever”

“we’ll be posting pictures together which means we’re going to have to go on date—“

“im gonna stop you right there” you cut him off middle sentence, “you can just use pictures from pinterest”

“what?”

“there’s no chance im going on dates with you” you argued.

“you agreed to this fake dating, you need to face the consequences”

you groaned and he continued, “kissing is not prohibited, you can kiss me whenever you want, if it’s necessary”

you felt like throwing up hearing this sentence.

“who’s gonna buy that? just yesterday you were bumping into me and acting like a total bitch in front of everyone” you rolled your eyes.

“it’s as simple as that, we’ll say we’ve been forced by our parents to come as a couple to an event and we had a deep conversation about our past and after a while of reuniting i asked you out and we decided to hide our relationship until now” he shrugged.

“wow,” you clapped, “you thought about it the whole day yesterday didn’t you?”

“no…” he scratched his nape and looked everywhere but at you.

“sure” you nodded, completely not believing what he just said.

“anyways it’s all settled, we’ll be posting a picture today after school” he said and was about to leave the classroom.

“one more thing,” he said, “pda is a must, therefore you’d have to give me your hand and we’d have to go hand in hand to classroom”

“just say you want to hold my hand, i’ll take that into consideration, but i’m not interested” you asked annoyed.

“you wish someone would actually want to hold your hand out of his own will” he rolled his eyes.

“you haven’t touched a single soul in your entire life”

“just shut up” he sighed.

“never as long as your annoying ass is right besides me”

he just groaned and took your hand.

“starting now” he nodded, “it’ll make everyone confuse until we reveal our relationship”

“yuck, even calling it a relationship is making me want to throw up”

“hope your stupid brain knows it’s mutual but whatever, just don’t act like that when we’re together”

walking through the hallway while everyone is whispering and glancing at you was never a problem to sunghoon, it was a big problem for you though.

you tried letting go of sunghoon’s hand to stop the whispering and glancing but he held you tighter.

“it’s okay, calm down i’m here with you” he whispered.

as much as you’d like to deny it, it made you feel somewhat safe.

however, it’s the park sunghoon we’re talking about. your worst enemy.

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” you whispered back.

“and we’re here, outside your classroom” he changed the subject and stopped right outside of your class while everyone else kept looking at the two of you.

“i’ll wait for you after class” he winked and left a peck on your forehead before leaving to his classroom.

you so wished you could wipe it off at the moment. or at least, you think.

“what the fuck did i just saw?” karina walked up to you as soon as sunghoon left.

“we have a lot to catch on” you sighed and dragged her inside the classroom.

“and you agreed?!?”

“ms. karina and ms. y/n, would you like to share to your class what were you talking about?” the teacher knocked on the desk.

“no, we’re sorry” you said quietly and the teacher went back to teaching.

“you told me to follow what my heart says!” you whispered-yelled to her.

“i didn’t think it’d say to agree to it!!” she replied back.

“well i did, and now i’m stuck with the worst person ever”

“maybe he’s not that bad”

“get out karina”

“can’t, we’re in the middle of a class” she shrugged and you groaned.

“so you’re now dating your worst ever enemy, the infamous woman in this highschool, choi y/n?!!”

“yes jake, i don’t know why it’s so surprising to you” sunghoon rolled his eyes as he took a bite from his lunch.

“surprising only to him? sunghoon, just a few days ago you called her an attention seeker bitch, now you’re telling us you’ve been dating for a few months already?” jungwon asked, concerned.

“well we did great at hiding didn’t we? our parents told us we should sign to drama classes”

“nothing here makes sense” jay shook his head.

lying to his friends about his whole relationship life? was definitely not and never will be on his list but he couldn’t care less about the list anymore.

“life doesn’t make sense, jay” sunghoon sighed, “it just happened, now i can’t stop thinking about her, it’s like i want to spend every minute with her”

“ew, not in front of my salad” riki gagged.

“although it makes no sense to me, i’m happy for you sunghoon, so proud of you for finally getting along with someone” sunoo pat his back.

“hey what do you mean by that?”

“from childhood friends to childhood enemies to lovers, that sounds like an actual pretty good story genre” heeseung crossed his arms and nodded.

“can’t believe you haven’t told me anything about it!” taesan, who for the first time in a while joined their lunch table, lightly pushed sunghoon, completely in disbelief.

“you’re right, i should’ve told you about it before” sunghoon nodded.

sunghoon’s a bad friend. a very, very bad one.

a few weeks ago he had a conversation with who he considers as his best friend, but how could he face him now after this conversation?

“hey hoon! i wanted to ask you something” taesan bit his lips, a bit anxious to start the conversation.

“yeah dude, what’s up?” he asked.

“i know you and y/n are….not on good terms, but i actually started spending some time with her and i’m really interested in her” his eyes lit up from excitement just by talking about you, “wanted to ask you if that’s okay that, you know….”

“yeah for sure! even though i hate this person with all my heart, i can’t decided on your life, can’t see how and why you’re interested in her but whatever, it’s yours” sunghoon shrugged.

“thanks sunghoon, i’m really glad i got you as my friend” taesan hugged sunghoon tightly.

sunghoon definitely knew about taesan’s little crush about you, and the day he told you that taesan has a little crush, he actually meant you.

back to today, sunghoon feels like his whole life was tearing apart.

how could he betray his friend like that? after everything taesan did to him. from helping him with studies to even paying for the things he couldn’t.

taesan shook his head and smiled weakly, “whatever makes you happy sunghoon” he said.

sunghoon was expecting him to shout at him and get mad about it, but was actually surprised he took it well somehow.

‘i’m doing this for you too’ sunghoon thought, after all, he has the perfect plan for taesan and y/n.

“thanks taesan” sunghoon hugged him tightly and pat his back as a sign for asking for forgiveness.

“that’s not gonna work, too many people are looking at us” you complained as soon as you got out of your last class for the day and noticed sunghoon who was already waiting for you outside.

“with popularity comes the consequences” he shrugged and you rolled your eyes.

“enjoy lovebirds!” jay shouted as he walked past you.

“let’s go” he extended his hand out for you to hold it but you shook your head.

“i promised taesan i’ll review his essay he wrote”

“you can do it tomorrow—“ “can’t, plus you said you’ll help me with taesan, we can go on your stupid fake date later”

sunghoon rolled his eyes and sighed, “fine, i’ll walk you to the library”

when he noticed you smiling he couldn’t help but feel that weird feeling of excitement, but then he realized you were not smiling because of him.

“hey y/n!” taesan smiled warmly at you when he noticed you, “and sunghoon” he added quietly.

“hey taesan” you called with a wider smile on your face and sunghoon nodded.

“i’ll pick you up later then” he said and walked away.

“so…you and sunghoon huh?” taesan asked.

“ugh, don’t even— i felt everyone’s eyes on me throughout the whole day” you groaned.

“you don’t seem that happy with that”

“because i’m not! i’m so tired of it already, i should’ve known not to agree to that deal”

“what deal?”

“uhhhh” you freaked out, how stupid can you actually be??

“nothing!! no deal” you giggled nervously.

“if you say so” he shrugged and opened his laptop to show you his essay.

“why dont you just tell him?” karina asked you over the phone.

“and what will i say if he asks why i agreed to the deal?”

“simple, ‘i did it because i want sunghoon to help me date you’, like that”

“sure, it’s that easy” you rolled your eyes.

“how was your first day dating sunghoon anyway?”

“he took me to get some ice cream, he actually remembers my favorite taste”

“yeah i saw on your instagram story, if i didn’t happen to know that this is all fake i’d actually believe it” she said teasingly.

“can’t believe i’m saying this but” you sighed, “he’s not that bad to hang out with”

you expected a reply from her right away but all you heard was silence.

“karina?”

“i can’t believe this conversation is not being recorded” she finally spoke.

“forget that i said tha—“ “no no no! please continue”

“well….he was actually super nice and even paid for my ice cream, even found a nice spot and brought me his jacket since it was starting to get cold” you said calmly.

“y/n”

“hm?”

“you might end up falling in love with him instead of taesan” she said and you scoffed.

“are you forgetting that he literally ruined my life?”

“i said what i said!” she argued.

eventually you ended the call and drifted off to dreamland.

“so….”

a few days passed since you revealed your (fake) relationship and today was the first day you sat with seven other people at your lunch table.

“you and sunghoo—“

“stop it”

“sunghoon and yo—“

“shut it!”

sunghoon’s friends tried to ease up the awkward situation but were shut off by you and sunghoon.

“we just think it’s weird that’s all!! it’ll pass sooner or later” jay chuckled.

“so y/n, how’s life?” riki asked.

“seriously?” sunghoon raised his brow.

“babe, it’s okay,” you almost gagged after using the nickname on sunghoon, “life’s fun, you never know which surprises awaits for you”

you raised sunghoon’s hand and showed everyone your locked hands.

“ew, don’t need to use those nicknames and act all cheesy here” jake teased.

“you wanted to meet my girlfriend didn’t you? here she is” sunghoon spoke.

that’s when it got to you. sunghoon lied to his friends about having a girlfriend! why did he choose you though? out of hundreds of students.

“you’re right” heeseung nodded, “if you already know each other so well, why don’t we ask you questions about sunghoon and you answer?”

“baby you don’t have to—“ “it’s okay, hit me with the questions”

“sunghoon’s favorite color?”

“white”

“his favorite season”

“used to be winter, it’s autumn now”

“favorite ice cream flavor?”

“um” you froze for a second.

“ah ha! got you”

“coffee”

“aw man, you suck!” riki said in disappointment after you answered all the questions correctly.

sunghoon in the meantime was busy staring at you and daydreaming.

when did you become so pretty? with your cute eyes that lit up every time you answered a question correctly, and your lips that formed into a smile when you noticed you won over his friend’s questions.

how come you remember those details about him as well?

he had tons of questions, but curse his inability to communicate well, he’ll probably leave those questions unanswered.

the only thing he does know, is that he’s scared to fall in love with you.

“babe? are you ready to go? let me walk you to the field now, you have practice”

you called him and he zoned out, for a second there he really forgot this is all fake.

the way you’d look at him and call him babe, it made him feel so weird, he had never felt like that before.

“yeah” he slightly nodded and got up.

when both of you arrived at the field he stopped in front of you and frowned.

“what if i’ll just take you on a date instead of practice?” he asked.

“sunghoon what the fuck? we’re all alone here nobody sees you, you don’t need to act all lovey dovey” you snapped back.

“right” he said, almost sounding too disappointed.

“i’ll go back now to the library, taesan’s waiting” you smiled and started walking away.

“pull yourself together sunghoon” he sighed and entered the field.

“hey” you called taesan as you saw him already sitting at your usual library desk.

“hey y/n!” he called you back excitedly.

“missed being with you after school, i went on too many dates with sunghoon lately” you sighed.

“yeah” he whispered, you could hear a bit of disappointment in his voice but he shrugged it off quickly, “hey how about instead of studying we’ll go hang out, i got pretty tired of reading today”

“sure! of course, i would love to!!” you excitedly replied.

taesan got up and held your hand, “let’s go watch some movies”

practice ended and sunghoon went straight to the library without even showering first. he couldn’t wait telling you how his friends couldn’t stop talking about you and praising your (again, fake) relationship.

he looked at the clock and it was usually around the time you and taesan would finish and get out, only this time you were nowhere to be found.

sunghoon started to freak out, what if something bad happened to you? did taesan leave you alone? what if he did something bad to you?

no, no. sunghoon was just freaking out.

he tried calling you, but your phone was turned off, you weren’t available.

he ran all the way to your home and asked your mother if she happened to see you, but got a negative answer.

“why, is she missing?” your mother asked and tried to stay calm.

“no of course not!” sunghoon awkwardly said, “we’re just playing hide and seek that’s all, i was wondering if she walked all the way here to hide in her room”

seriously sunghoon? that’s the best thing you got?

“alright, have fun!” it seemed like it made your mom believe him!

“y/n where the fuck are you?” he whispered to himself.

he decided to call taesan, “if he’s not answering i swea—“

“hey dude, what’s up?” his friend on the other line answered calmly.

“do you happen to know where y/n is?” he straightforwardly asked.

“yeah, she’s right next to me, didn’t she tell you we’re going to watch some movies?” taesan’s voice stayed calm but on the inside he was smirking.

taesan 1, sunghoon 0.

“she probably forgot or something” sunghoon giggled, “when do you plan on coming back?”

“don’t know, but don’t worry dude, i’ll make sure she gets home safely”

“yeah, okay” sunghoon said and ended the call.

“who was that?” you asked.

“your boyfriend, didn’t you tell him we’re here?”

“oh no, i forgot about it”

“yeah he was worried sick”

“i think we should head back now” you let out a sigh.

“okay, sure” he nodded and both of you got up.

you don’t know why you said it instead of staying the whole night just watching random movies with your longtime crush.

what the hell did this fake dating with sunghoon do to you?

taesan walked you until it was already safe for you to walk alone, you argued with him that it’s fine and your house was a minute away, he tried insisting but you didn’t budge.

both of you knew why you wanted to walk over to your house alone.

sunghoon 1, taesan 1.

you really tried using you muscle memory and walk to your door with your eyes closed so you won’t have to meet with—

“well who do we have here”

“i really didn’t want to see you here now” you sighed and opened your eyes.

“i was worried sick! why didn’t you just send me a text or whatever?” he spit out and you never really realized how irritating his voice is until now.

“what are you? my mom? why do i have to tell you my whereabouts?” you snapped.

“we’re dating, of course—“ “hell no we’re not, this whole thing is fake and you know it, i dont owe you shit, park”

for the first time sunghoon was stunned and speechless because of you. he did not know what to say or even process what the hell just happened. and why the fuck was he so annoyed by you going to the movies with taesan?

“if you dont have anything to say just go” you sighed and just like that he left.

you finally got inside your room and laid on your bed, thinking about your last events and how stupid it was of you to go home early because of that fucking rat who was ‘worried’ over you.

your phone buzzed and when you looked at the caller ID you smiled.

“just checking that you arrived safely”

“i’m not a five years old kid taesan,” you chuckled and got up to sit on the edge of your bed, “besides, it was a minute walk from where you left me”

“alright, was just checking if you were still alive” he giggled.

“hey taesan”

“hm?”

“let’s hang out more, i had real fun today”

“all i was just asking is for you to text me if there’s a change of plans! i was really worried because i knew i had to pick you up but you were nowhere to be seen” that is how your morning started, for the past few days it because a routine for you to have a morning and after school walk with sunghoon, and each morning you’d have a little fight.

this time, even though you hate to admit it, he’s right.

“you’re right, i should’ve told you beforehand, i just got super excited to go out with taesan so i forgot about it, besides you’re supposed to be happy for me, i’m finally getting closer to my crush” you huffed.

“thank you, and yeah, i’m super happy” he rolled his eyes and you nodded.

“another thing, heeseung’s brother is having a wedding in less than a month and we have to go there together, as a couple” he said, “after the wedding we’ll plan the break up and will part our ways”

“sounds like a plan to me” you shrugged.

“no matter what happens, please just show up to his brother’s wedding, i think heeseung already favors you so much, he always did but i always warned him not to get too close to you”

“obviously you did” you rolled your eyes, “but i will do it, for him and for his happiness”

“thank you” he said sincerely.

“wow, didnt know you could be genuine”

“just shut up and continue to walk”

two weeks passed and as much as you hate to admit it, dating sunghoon park isn’t something that bad.

you went to all kinds of ‘dates’ together, that one amusement park date was your favorite.

“no no no no! don’t go too high, y/n hold my hand tight!” he yelled on one of the roller coasters you forced him to get on, “i think i’m gonna throw up oh no, here it comes! i hate it here”

while he was busy yelling, you were busy laughing your ass off at him. he was cute, you admit.

it reminded you of that time you went to an amusement park together when you were kids, he remained the same, nothing changed.

as you got tired of the amusement park, he took you to a restaurant and both of you sat one in front of the other.

“i like it here, this place is designed so beautifully” you said.

“not as beautiful as you” he mumbled.

“hm?” you asked and he shook his head, “nothing”

“you know, it wasn’t so bad today, i really had fun” he started speaking, “reminded me of our childhood”

“yeah, i thought about that too” you nodded.

“i kinda miss it” i kinda miss you, he wanted to say, but he felt like it’d be too much.

sunghoon that day realized his strong feelings for you never left, and probably never will. your past antics were long forgotten and all he wanted was to hold you in his arms and tell you how much he loves you, and he have always had.

“i kinda miss it too” you replied and it was like an unspoken tension between the two of you.

none of you would talk after that and just walked home in silence, but it was a comforting one.

“girl, he’s super like, into you, and you’re so like, into him too” karina said after you told her about the amusement park date.

“am not! i’ve been actually going out with taesan a lot, i really really like him” you smiled.

“whatever you say girl!”

“i actually am going to hang out with taesan today, i’ll update you on everything, bye bae” you smiled and ended the call to get ready for your hangout with taesan.

an hour later he sent you a text that he’s already waiting and you got out of your house right away.

“you look, really pretty” taesan was being so stunned by your beauty that he forgot how to talk.

“thank you” you smiled, “so, where are we going?”

“a new arcade just opened and i know how much you love arcades so i just thought of testing it out”

“oh my god you really do know me so well!!” you took out your phone to text sunghoon about your whereabouts.

you became more responsible and it suddenly didn’t bother you as much to text him about it, it almost became a habit of you.

‘off to the new arcade that opened up with taesan, don’t you worry about me’ you texted him and closed your phone.

as you arrived your eyes roamed around the big arcade and suddenly you looked like a five years old child who just got their first ever vanilla ice cream.

“what are we waiting for? let’s just go!!” taesan cheered and you clapped.

after hours and hours of playing you both went to sit down by the nearest park there.

“it was so fun today, we have to do it again!” you grinned and taesan nodded.

it suddenly became so quiet and you noticed taesan was staring at you for too long.

“are you okay?”

“i know about you and sunghoon,” he spoke, “about your fake dating thing”

you were too stunned to speak.

“i heard you arguing on the same day we went to the movies, i wanted to check on you if you arrived safely but i noticed you and sunghoon talking and i couldn’t help but eavesdrop” he shrugged.

“oh” was all you could let out.

“i was actually glad to find out that this whole thing with you and sunghoon was fake”

“what do you mea—“ “i like you y/n, a lot” he cut you middle sentence and you felt so weird hearing his confession.

“oh! there you are!” before you could even respond to taesan you heard a voice calling the both of you.

you turned around and saw the one and only, park sunghoon. what was he doing here?

a few days ago taesan asked to meet up with sunghoon. he confessed to him about knowing your fake relationship and told sunghoon he was going to confess to you.

“i like y/n, a lot, you already know that” he said.

“what’s your plan?” sunghoon asked.

“asking her out after going to that new arcade” he exposed his plan, and sunghoon’s cue to stop the confession was a simple text from you about your whereabouts.

sunghoon for the second time chose to be a shitty and egoistic ass friend, and prevent his so called ‘best friend’ from confessing to you.

but of course sunghoon wouldn’t tell you all of that.

“me and y/n were planning to go on a date today! i guess she forgot” sunghoon smirked.

“cut it sunghoon, i know you’re not really dating” taesan clenched his jaw.

“doesn’t matter, i still made us a reservation for this new restaurant” sunghoon rolled his eyes and dragged you away.

you were too shocked by the whole scene that only when you arrived back to your home you realized what happened.

“did you just—” you sighed, “ruined my fucking chance with taesan?” you felt your blood starting to boil.

“what do you mean?” he asked confused.

“taesan just fucking confessed and you just fucking showed up and dragged me away, what the fuck were you thinking?” you shout.

“y/n i—“

“you what, sunghoon? want to ruin my life once again? just like you did with my painting from seventh grade and my crush from eighth grade?” you snapped.

“you seriously still hold that against me? we were in seventh grade for god’s sake!”

“and it ruined my life ever since then! did you become your family’s disappointment? because i did, oh! and funny enough, not only that seventh grade made them disappointed in me, but also my stupid crush on eighth grade that you decided to snitch on!” you looked at him in disbelief.

“what about my crush from nineth grade then, huh? not only you lied to her and told her i spread the rumors about her, you made me look like the bad guy and the other students refused to talk to me for months! you basically made everyone back away from me!”

“and rightfully so” you rolled your eyes.

“y/n, look” sunghoon ran his hands through his hair and sighed,

“save it park, i don’t want to hear from you ever again, i had a blast ignoring you for the last few years and i’ll continue having a blast if it’ll continue that way” you lied through your teeth, “we’ll only talk when necessary and cut ties after heeseung’s brother’s wedding”

“y/n” sunghoon called you again but you already walked away and entered your house.

sunghoon knows he fucked up, and he realized there were so many miscommunications between the two of you over the past few years and he didn’t know how to fix it.

meanwhile you, the minute you stepped inside your room and closed the door, you started crying.

you didn’t know how to feel with yourself. you were glad that sunghoon cut you off before you could answer taesan, because surprisingly so, you were about to reject him.

taesan is a nice guy, he really is, and he really was your longtime crush, until your old crush entered your life again.

you realized you gained back your feelings the moment sunghoon opened his mouth to genuinely talk with you, in fact, those feelings never really left.

you found yourself so focused on the way that his dimples would always show while smiling and talking to you, or the way his fangs would show up with every smile he gives you.

but you couldn’t help but let your blood boil after his whole ‘i’m not going to let y/n have another chance with someone’ show, it made you think about your past and you hated it.

the next few weeks felt normal to everyone but you, sunghoon and taesan.

you and sunghoon acted as if nothing happened between the two of you when someone you know happened to be around.

when you two were alone? hell, you won’t even shoot a glance at him.

and as for you and taesan, you told him it’d be better if the both of you would take a short break for a while, just for you to adjust everything.

sunghoon refused to let go of you so easily once again, he tried everything, calling, texting, even calling your parents to ask if you were home and maybe they can tell you to pick your constantly ringing phone up.

it all felt like a deja vu now, but not the good one. you were getting distant again and it scared him that the same thing will happen yet again.

“thank you for coming” sunghoon welcomed the person into his house.

“why are you so stressed? oh no don’t tell me you got someone pregnant”

“jay, i sometimes wonder if your last braincells are just off to go travel or something” sunghoon groaned.

“well, you seem so tense, what is it?”

sunghoon decided to tell jay everything from A to Z, they’ve been best friends for long and he feels like he can trust him wholeheartedly, plus he had to get some help from someone.

“i knew it the moment you told me both of you are dating! it felt so unreal”

“thanks a lot jay, it really helps”

“well, i think im getting a little deja vu for eighth grade”

“exactly! i don’t want this to happen again! i know i fucked up but i….” sunghoon sighed, “i’m willing to do everything as long as i won’t lose her”

“okay first of all, ew dude that’s so cringy” jay said in disgust, “second, i think you just need to give her some time, i’m sure that if you still haven’t heard about her and taesan dating, she might as well was about to reject him”

“then why would she get so angry at me? it doesn’t make sense”

“you took a whole ass opportunity from her to try and sort her things out, of course she’d be pissed”

“right”

“try to talk with karina maybe, she might help you out on this one” jay pat his friend’s shoulder, “besides, the wedding is in a few days and you told me you made her promise you to show up no matter what, it’s not like she can run away from you for long”

“i hate that you’re so right” sunghoon groaned and jay shrugged, “i’m just saying whatever comes to my mind, whenever it comes to my mind”

“what do you want, park?”

“wow you really sound like y/n now” sunghoon sighed as he saw karina looking at him uninterested, “i guess she already told you what happened”

“yes, she did” she also told me she’s scared because she actually has feelings for you, she wanted to say. but its not her place to say it anyway.

“how….is she doing?” he asked quietly.

“why do you care?”

“oh no please don’t make it harder than it already is” he mumbled under his breath.

“because, i need to talk with her, a serious conversation”

“oh no don’t tell me you caught feelings”

“how did you— nevermind, please tell her that i’ll be waiting for her, and i really want to sort things out between us” he sounded so desperate it scared karina.

“i’ll see what i can do” karina nodded and he bit his lips and smiled.

“thank you, thank you, thank you, thank—“ “i get it you can go now!”

he nodded as he got his bag and went for another practice.

“hey bae how are you doing today?” karina hugged you as she sat on your bed.

ever since your last encounter with sunghoon you started missing a few classes here and there, you didn’t really feel like going to school and seeing sunghoon anyway. that’s why karina came to check up on you.

“same as usual, i don’t know”

“i know what you’re thinking” she said and you looked at her creeped out.

“relax, it’s nothing scary” she laughed, “i just know you’re thinking about him”

“am not!” you argued.

“yeah, and i’m queen elizabeth”

you can’t stop thinking about sunghoon, she wasn’t lying really.

you realized how messed up your whole story was. you need answers from him, you need the apology you’ve been waiting to hear, the confirmation that he misses you as much as you miss him. you need to hold him tight and never let him go again.

“fine, you got me” you sighed.

you wish you’d know how to sort things out without going crazy.

“he came up to me today,” she said and your eyes sparkled, “he asked me about you, he’s been so desperate to talk with you, he looked and sounded really sincere”

“i don’t know karina, i’m not sure if i’m ready to face him without getting angry again, it’s just that whenever i see him my blood just starts to boil when i think about our past”

“that’s your problem, you refuse to let go of your past” she put her hand on your shoulder, “just let it go, and get the answers and confirmation you need from him”

you decided not to show up at school ever since your conversation with karina.

sunghoon tried checking up on you multiple times but each time you’d lie to your mother who opened the door for him and told her to tell him that you’re sick. both of you knew it was wrong.

sunghoon was going crazy, his friends couldn’t stop asking about you and about your whereabouts and he could only lie and say that you’ve got really sick and that he’s been taking care of you.

he asked karina about you again and again, until she got tired and told him everything, about your wellbeing and your health.

he was so worried for you it surprised her, he was really acting as if he’s your real boyfriend.

karina would lie if she said she didn’t confuse him as your boyfriend for a while.

“here” sunghoon handed karina a notebook.

“what’s that?” she asked.

“i took some notes on this class, give it to y/n please”

“sunghoon, i’m not some kind of—“

“i know i know you’re not a delivery guy but, i don’t know how to give it to her in any other way” he sighed.

oh the poor guy, she really pities him.

wedding day came and sunghoon was going back and forth in his room.

will you be coming? should he pick you up? you promised him! if not for him then for heeseung!

at the end, jay called him and told him it was becoming too late and he should just come without you.

sunghoon left his house with a heavy heart and empty hands, that were supposed to hold you tightly and close to him.

“hey hoon! you came!!” heeseung welcomed his friend with a hug and a big smile over his face.

“where’s y/n?” he asked.

“oh y/n, she really wanted to come but—“ “but what?” he was cut off by someone else.

when he looked over his shoulder he found you, walking over to them and putting your hands together on sunghoon’s right shoulder.

“i was getting ready and it took me too long to come, so i just told sunghoon to go away so he won’t be late because of me” you smiled and planted a kiss on sunghoon’s cheek.

“i’m so glad you came!!” heeseung smiled widely and hugged you tightly.

sunghoon was still shocked seeing you there, first you walked in, looking gorgeous than ever in the outfit you put on yourself, then you went and put your hands over his shoulder and lastly, you kiss his cheek.

he froze and zoned out for a few seconds until you waved your hands in front of him.

“let’s get in! it’s about to start” you were about to walk in but sunghoon was quick enough to pull you back to him.

he was holding your waist and pulling you closer to him.

“first, you walk in here, looking prettier than any other person here, no offense to the bride, then you smile and kiss my cheeks. i don’t understand, what’s happening?” he asked, his face is closer than ever to yours.

“i don’t want to open it up now—“ “if not now then when?”

you sighed and closed your eyes.

“i only have one question”

“shoot”

“did you really regret what you did back then?”

“of course i did, i still do” he reached your hand to hold it, “look at where it got us”

“why did you ruin my chance with my crush back then?”

“you said only one question”

“okay so maybe now i have more”

“i did it,” sunghoon stayed quiet for a second, is this the right time to confess? “because i really liked you, and i still do” fuck it.

“when we started to fake dating i realized those feelings never left, everytime i look at you i just cant help it but smile, i think it’s way beyond just ‘like you’, i love you y/n” he let go of his hold on your waist and held both of your hands in his.

you stopped breathing for a second as you tried to process what you just heard.

“park sunghoon” you whispered and he hummed.

“i’m here baby”

“i hate you” you said and sunghoon could swear his heart dropped.

“i hate you for making me hate you so much to the point it ruined our friendship for so long” you continued, “you could’ve confessed your feelings and we could’ve been the best highschool couple by now”

sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows, he got so confused by your words.

“if you still didn’t get it, i happen to love you too, you dumbass” you laughed.

without giving you a warning he pulled you into a kiss with a big grin on his face.

it was a desperate kiss, as if he was waiting to do this for so long. both of you didn’t want to part away but you did eventually because of the lack of oxygen.

“i can’t believe we fucked this up because of this stupid painting in seventh grade” that was the first thing he said afterwards.

“you fucked this up and it’s not just a stupid painting!!” you argued and he laughed as he hugged you tightly.

“i’m joking, i’m really sorry for that, and for the crush thing in eighth grade too” he grinned, “but he was just not good for you, you had me the whole time and still wanted him”

you kissed him again and smiled.

“i was too blind i guess”

“can you two cut it off lovebirds? the wedding is about to start” both of you turned your heads and saw annoyed jay standing in front of you.

“sorry! coming” both of you said at the same time.

as you sat one next to each other, sunghoon interlocked your fingers together.

“hey” he whispered and you hummed.

“hearing ‘i love you’ from you really warmed my heart” he smiled, “just letting you know”

“oh really?” you asked and he nodded.

“i love you” you kissed his cheek.

“i’ll keep saying this until you’ll get tired of it”

“which is basically never”

jay groaned and turned to look at the both of you “can you please just stop being so lovey dovey oh my god”

“you were exactly like that on your first days with your girlfriend stop being such an attention seeker” jake rolled his eyes and jay hit him.

“shhhh!! why don’t we just pay attention to heeseung that’s crying right there?”

“just took a picture! will definitely use it to blackmail him!”

“poor little thing only wanted to get emotional in his brother’s wedding”

“soon to be us at sunghoon’s and y/n’s wedding”

and they lived happily ever after! i mean, as much as you can when you have those six people as your friends and karina’s nonstop questions about future kids.

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world @lovelovelovebts @filmofhybe @wonbinsnovia @daegutowns @aurumiee @soobywon @dhriti-stories @ariadores @firstclassjaylee @watamotee33 @moons-v @s00buwu @hoonheepretty @jjeoni-7 @dimplewonie (bold means cannot be tagged)

#enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #sunghoon drabbles #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon angst

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dollyyun · 27 days

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𝐮𝐩𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐰𝐢𝐩)

PAIRING: cold ceo!jay x beauty influencer fem!reader SYNOPSIS: seeing your older brother's best friend in real time again after many years brings back bittersweet memories you buried deep in the wreckage of your mind and evokes a familiar yet forbidden attraction for the man who is out of your league. just as you have every intention to steer clear of him, the universe pulls a reverse uno card, and thus, your fate seems to interweave with his. the tension between you two grows thicker and thicker, and you wonder if he still sees you as his best friend's younger sister or as a real woman. GENRE: 18+ (mdni), adulthood, 6 years age gap (jay is 28, reader is 22), grumpy x sunshine, angst, slow burn kinda, jay calls reader 'sunshine'. WARNING: profanities, heartbreak, alcohol consumption, possessiveness, smut, unprotected sex (no!), harddom!jay, sub!reader, oral (f & m rec), manhandling, breeding kink, degradation, edging, overstimulation, (more to be added....) WORD COUNT: est 9k-11k RELEASE DATE: july (tbc)

PAIRING: jake sim x fem!reader x lee heeseung SYNOPSIS: almost everyone on the team knows that park sunghoon's sister, aka you, is off limits, to which your brother made it annoyingly clear, but that doesn't deter you from developing forbidden attractions for two specific individuals, just as they do to you too. with each encounter, their desire for you amplifies, and it doesn't help when your attempts at seducing them under the innocent pretence of yours have been nothing short of obvious. shameless, that's what you are. after putting their differences aside, they have had enough and decided to show you how utterly shameless you are and give you what you strongly desire - them. GENRE: 18+ (mdni), smuts, college au, pinning, tension, forbidden romance, ice hockey, brother's rival heeseung, brother's best friend jake, fluffs. WARNING: profanities, jealousy, possible violence, alcohol consumption, dom!heejake, degradation, mild bondage, manhandling, blowjob, edging, crying, overstimulation, threesome (more to be added....) WORD COUNT: est 20-30k RELEASE DATE: july (tbc)

PAIRING: mafia!lheeseung x assassin fem!reader SYNOPSIS: the mafia princess ─ oh, how you absolutely despise the moniker accorded to you simply because your reputation entails you being the youngest in your clan and who is merely there for pretty decoration, but little do they know that beneath your pristine, angelic facade is a cold-blooded killer whose skills are impeccable. After having enough of the mistreatment from your father, your vengeful spirit propels you to prove him and those who underestimated you wrong by assassinating your father's number one enemy ─ lee heeseung, the leader of lee clan. however, you have underestimated heeseung, and thus, things no longer work in your favour at this time. naturally, you expect heeseung to eliminate his enemy's daughter after the assassination attempt, but his intention clearly shows that he wants to keep you around him for as long as he wants to. as time passes, feelings shift and clothes are discarded, but you remain at the crossroads of choosing your clan or the only man who makes you feel more seen and powerful. GENRE: 18+ (mdni), smut, adulthood, mob world, sci-fi(ish) concept, dark theme, angst, enemies to lovers. WARNING: profanities, violence, blood, murders, smoking, alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs, forced close proximity, unprotected sex (no!), meandom!hee x sub!reader, name calling(slut, princess, darling), rough/hate sex, slight bondage, creampie, overstimulation (more to be added....) WORD COUNT: est 17k-20k RELEASE DATE: july (tbc)

PAIRING: enha hyung line x fem!reader SYNOPSIS: being the only human who has been miraculously and specially invited to enrol in the elite academy for vampires, you have long since struggled to fit in due to the discrimination you often face. for the first few weeks, you hated this place and everyone in it, but as time passes, you have grown rather fond of the academy, despite the fact that the place is cluttered with superior beings who view you as nothing but a walking blood bag. although you want to be thankful that none of them have tried to get a taste of your blood, it can't be said the same for the four vampires, who come from distinct yet esteemed clans. you have been made aware that you ought to steer clear of their path, but it is as though there is a magnetic pull in you that often draws them to you. despite experiencing pain and humiliation from your four tormentors, you can't deny that you, too, feel a sense of magnetic attraction towards them that only seems to amplify with each moment filled with unspoken yet palpable tension. GENRE: 18+ (mdni), reverse harem, dark themes, vampire au, fantasy romance, soulmate kinda concept, smuts. WARNING: explicit themes, profanities, violence, blood, murders & deaths, manipulation, corruption, mild bullying, humiliation, alcohol consumption, vampire sex, hard&mean!doms, voyeurism, degradation, markings, biting(drawing out blood), lots of manhandling, crying, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, eventual fivesomes (more to be added....) RELEASE DATE: august (tbc)

TAGLIST: OPEN (comment below which fic you wanna be tagged)

#ruby's upcoming wips #enhypen

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moonchild1 · 11 months

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jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅷ)

it's finally here! i've been working on this list for so long and honestly with the release of seven i had to reorganize it but it's finally ready soooo here's a list of the fics i've been reading lately, honestly i loved every single one of them and enjoyed it so much and i would sell my soul to get a chance to read them all over again, i've been exploring way more and reading genres i haven't read before so i am so excited to post this list, i've grown attached to alot of the series so i'm beyond excited seeing how they all play out but i hope you all connect and fall for the fics as well and experience that excitement too... remember to follow, like, comment and give lots of love to our talented writers they deserve so much love and support i mean look at all the magic they share with us!! and check out their masterlists too you might find your faves as well... as you know majority if not all the fics i rec contain smut so no minors allowed and also dni. i love that you guys have been sending me recs and questions i love hearing from you so please do keep sharing them and asking... stay happy and healthy everyone and enjoy the list till next time 💘🖤

a- angst s- smut f-fluff

series

employed by @personasintro f s a (ceo au slow burn e2l) updates on wattpad

seven days by @/kithtaehyung f s a (fuckboy jk roommate to lovers)

candles & flames by @taegularities f s a (enemies to lovers royal/regency au fuckboy jk)

ego season by @sparklingchim s (jock jk fwb brothers best friend college au)

the lucky one by @babystrcandy f s a (rivals/enemies to lovers childhood friends)

bangtan scouts by @hisunshiine f s a (fantasy au college au friends to lovers)

seven days by @/hisunshiine f s a (brothers best friend age gap fwb)

bloodline by @jjkeverlast s a (fwb au slow burn college au)

seven days a week by @/jjkeverlast f s a (fwb au college au)

dextrocardia by @jeonstudios f s a (officer au undercover fake marriage e2l)

drown for you by @/jeonstudios f s a (siren au)

as we were by @archivedkookie s a (infidelity au marriage au slow burn) ft yoongi

secret slut by @jeonsweetpea s (office au assistant jk)

moonstruck by @/jeonsweetpea s a (supernatural au slow burn e2l based on the vampire diaries and legacies)

angel’s trumpet by @hansolmates f a (idol au supernatural au)

timing by @spideyjimin f s a (dad jk past lovers au)

full stop by @1oserjk f a (divorce au parents au)

spicy n sweet by @thvhoe s a (boxer au established relationship)

the princess and the rockstar by @httpknjoon f a (rockstar au royalty au)

redamancy by @lesgetittkookie f s a (rich girl au s2l)

the ability to fathom by @hanniwrites f s a (brothers best friend idiots to lovers pining college au virgin au)

denial by @girlygguk f s a (idol au fwb brothers best friend)

safety net by @pradaksj f s a (boxer au e2l)

the forgotten spaces by @oddinary4bts f s a (slow burn e2l dancer au college au)

sinful lust by @oddinary4bts s a (threesome au) ft. boyfriend myg

over wine by @koocycle f s a (marriage au)

friday nights and take-out by @ahundredtimesover f s a (idol au s2l)

blackout by @jjungxkook f s (bf2l roommate college au)

the damsel & her knight by @jimilter f a (chaebol au ceo jk e2l)

at your service by @untaemedqueen f s a (escort au s2l ceo au)

pr disaster by @ughcore f s a (e2l actor au fake dating)

aphrodite in war by @jungblue f s a (frat boy au fake dating roommates e2l)

to err is to love by @jungkookschin f a (exes au dilf au ceo au)

live through this by @starshapedkookie s a (exes frenemies to lovers band au)

my love is here by @solemnreads f s a (unrequited love best friends slow burn)

clash by @matchagator f s a (neighbours slice of life e2l)

to what we were before, and all the things after by @orchidyoonkook f s a (prince jk s2l f2l slow burn college au)

one-shot

devoted to trouble by @/jeonsweetpea f s (spiderkook)

accidental roommates by @/jjkeverlast f s a (dilf au roommates to lover e2l)

calling you cool by @/kithtaehyung f s a (rockstar au s2l)

college nights, diner fights by @/hisunshiine f s a (e2l waiter au)

love is gone by @jeonbunnie s a (established relationship break up au)

the boy with galaxies in his eyes by @/oddinary4bts f s a (idol au fuckboy au fwb tattoo artist au)

no longer strangers by @soft4gguk f s (summer love strangers 2 lovers)

the hating game by @sxtaep s a (e2l lawyer au)

what if i love you too much? by @taleasnewastime f s a (single mom au neighbours to lovers)

jasmine by @/btssmutgalore f s (friends to lover shy jk) on ao3

please don’t go by @httpjungkookcom f a (spider kook childhood best friends)

boy's a Liar by @/thvhoe f s a (best friends bf e2l college au)

masked by @flymetothejoon s a (drummer jk s2l)

lonely hearts club by @joonbird s a (tattoo artist dystopian au)

this is how you fall in love by @jeonqkooks f s a (rockstar au established relationship)

freak-quency by @gukslut f s (rockstar au s2l)

boots by @/gukslut f s (rockstar au)

wake up call by @junghelioseok s (established relationship)

orange tulips by @kainks f s a (soulmate au reincarnation)

skirt chaser by 1kook s (f2l college au)

blueberry haze by @caelesjjk s (drummer au s2l)

cabin fever by @jeongi f s a (ex best friends unrequited love)

the millionaire and his lover by @gukyi f s a (f2l ceo au fake dating one sided love)

take what’s yours (and stay) by @kidguk f s a (f2l s2l pinning)

overtime by @cupofteaguk f s (ceo au boss au)

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

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mellowwillowy · 5 months

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Yan! Mafia Ringleader x GN Reader

What? I'm sick of these classic Mafia husbands trope yet we all know damn well that part of us is digging real deep into it. So allow me to hand you one of my Mafia OCs.

One of the nation's biggest threats has yet to be your lover, wagging his imaginary tail as he rested his face on your lap. We are so desensitized to how immoral a mafia is due to the romanticization of it to the point you just straight up ignore all his crimes!

Because of his work, the two of you can't really have a private date somewhere out there. Sure the bodyguards are not in sight but you know better than to think that they are not lurking around to keep you both safe from his rivals.

"Won't you gimme a smooch'aroo?" "... In front of your men?" "*Pouts* Pretty please?"

You love it when he throws all cold facades away and shifts himself into a touch-starved puppy! Who would have known this guy just sent one of his enemies their men's heads as a lingering threat to not exert themselves~

While your lover is not involved in the human trafficking side, it doesn't justify his actions for being the largest drug dealer in this nation. Whatever type you are looking for, junkies, he has it all stored for you, with a price of course.

But if you are a junkie reader then he'd be quite worried. You see, he may be dealing drugs but that doesn't mean he's doing drugs. He likes nicotine but would rather not indulge himself in yet another addiction okay? And that goes the same way to you! Please stop it.

And may I tell you that Kaspar enjoys ranting to you about how his day(s) has been, how he wants you to comfort him as you praise him for surviving yet another day? Empty plates are not filled with him just sitting around and he has to fight every day to not remind himself of the old days?

"Oh yes, have my beloved eaten? You are not going through another silly diet, right? Trust me, food is meant to be enjoyed and not over-calculated!"

There are also times he'd rant non-stop about this certain lawyer that he's working with. Of how one of the nation's biggest threats, has been reduced into an errand boy for his spouse! Can you believe that, babe?

Overall Rating? 9/10. Where did the 1 one go to? Your dead friend that insulted you and his punishments. Ehe.

Look, he has a problem with people who dare to look down on him and you, he has grown up in a rather unfortunate background in which he fights teeth and nails to break free so how DARE someone patronize him or you?

Yeah, it sounds romantic but not so cute when it's your literal bestie. He spares no mercy in how he deals with them too, the only mercy he's offering is one chance and nothing more.

Another dark side of him would be his... punishment. Ehe. Due to his upbringing as a ringleader, he is used to disciplining his men, rough. Sure he doesn't give you the same punishment as he does to his men but that doesn't mean it saves you from how unpleasant it is.

The worst punishment that wrenches his heart would be making you skip breakfast, lunch, and dinner! He doesn't have the heart to but he has to! (Honestly, in your opinion, there is literally worse punishment than this, not gonna name it.)

Yeah he is a Beelzebub at heart (Gluttony)

#Kaspar the Drug Lord #LIfE Project #Yandere x Reader #x GN Reader #Yandere Imagines #Yandere Headcanons #Yandere Scenarios

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andvys · 1 year

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It's just us | S.H.

Warnings: 18+, angst, cheating (reader and Steve get cheated on by their partners), heartbreak, betrayal, enemies to lovers, King!Steve, smut, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, r and Steve are both over the age of 18, mentions of reader having nipple piercings

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve hated each other from the first moment you met but when you get betrayed by the people you love the most, all you have is each other.

Word count: 8k+

Author's note: I was really fucking close to making this an Eddie fic or at least a Steddie fic cause Eddie Munson owns me but this one is for my Steve girlies and for the ones who asked me to write for him before so here ya go. And I'm back to focusing on my one and only

stranger things masterlist

part two (steddie x reader)

There was one person that you hated more than anything, Steve Harrington. From the first moment you have laid your eyes on him, you just couldn’t stand him. You hated his cocky and arrogant personality, his perfect reputation, how sure of himself he always was. You hated King Steve, you hated the way he looked at you, you hated the way he used every opportunity to piss you off, he said things that he knew would get under your skin.

He hated you too, he hated how loved you were, he hated how popular you were. Both of you rivaled each other, he was the captain of the basketball team and you were the head cheerleader. In a perfect world, you would be together and people would call you a dream couple but instead you two hated each other’s guts.

You threw nasty words at each other, bickering every time you were around each other. You avoided him as much as he avoided you and for a while it worked until he started dating your best friend, Nancy.

Over were the peaceful lunch breaks at the cafeteria where you would only sit with her and your boyfriend. Steve started tagging along with her, greeting you with cocky grins and mocking waves whenever he would sit down opposite of you.

Not only were you forced to spend every lunch break with him, you also had to tolerate him during movie nights, parties and even worse, double dates.

You hated him more and more.

You thought that your boyfriend would take your side, joining in on the Steve Harrington hate train but oddly enough, they became friends.

Months went by and you had hoped that Nancy would realize what a douchebag King Steve is, leave his ass in the dust and find another boyfriend but she seemed happy and he did too.

Nancy and Steve were happy.

Jonathan and Steve got along.

Everyone got along, except for you and him. You hated him but god, you grew to love the fights and the bickering, you found entertainment in them. You loved pissing him off, loved teasing him, loved throwing mean words at him even when you knew that he would do the same and say something hurtful in return.

Yes, Steve Harrington got under your skin but you got under his too. It was clear, the way his cheeks turned red and his eyes flashed with anger, he would clench his jaw and his fists before he’d turn away from you.

“Tina is throwing a party this friday, are we going?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at your boyfriend and your best friend.

“Of course, we’re going,” Steve says.

You rolled your eyes as you turned to look at him, “I wasn’t talking to you, Harrington.”

Jonathan sighs, mumbling your name in annoyance.

You ignored him, continuing to look into hazel eyes with a challenging look on your face.

“Bitch,” Steve mumbles.

“Steve!” Nancy exclaims, turning towards her boyfriend with wide eyes, “that wasn’t nice.”

“Aw,” he shrugs, throwing his arm around her shoulder, he turns back to you, giving you a small smirk, “I’m sorry, queen y/n.”

You scrunch your face up in annoyance, he knows you hate when people call you that.

Rolling your eyes, you reach for the fries on your boyfriend’s plate, throwing some at the man in front of you, “shut up, asshole.”

He dodges the fries, laughing when they hit some kid behind him.

“Are you gonna wear one of those ugly leather jackets again?” He asks you, “they make you look cheap, y/n.”

A laugh falls from your lips, you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, “at least I don’t let my mom buy my clothes,” you say as your eyes trail down his shirt, “seriously, have you ever stepped foot inside a store yourself? Your mommy still dresses you up like you’re some innocent little virgin.”

His smile falls and he scoffs at you, “I’m not a virgin.”

“I know, you’re a whore in virgin’s clothes.”

He raises his eyebrows at you, “seriously?” He snorts, “you wanna call me a whore now?”

You are both so caught up in each other, you don’t notice the stolen glances between your boyfriend and his girlfriend, the longing gazes, the forbidden touches between the table as they reach for the other’s hand.

If you paid more attention, you would have noticed it a long time ago already but you were focused on other things.

Jonathan was a loving and sweet boyfriend, you had no reason not to trust him.

If you would’ve just known..

“Are we gonna go to the movies tonight?” You ask as you finally turn away from Steve and look at your boyfriend, smiling at him, you’re unable to see the guilt in his eyes.

He blinks, coughing nervously.

Nancy looks down at her food tray, pushing around the salad she hasn’t touched, her cheeks are red, her brows are furrowed.

You don’t notice how weird they are both being but Steve does, it is something he hasn’t noticed before but feels like it’s always been there, the tension in Jonathan’s shoulders, the distant look in his eyes, the furrowed brows as he looks down at you.

“Uh, shit, I-I no, I forgot to tell you, I’m taking Will to the record store tonight and he asked for a movie night,” he explains.

Steve expects you to frown at his words, sigh sadly and mumble a quiet ‘oh’ but instead your eyes light up and you grab Jonathan’s shoulder, “oh! Can I come with you?” You ask excitedly. Steve might not know much about you except for the very obvious things but he knows how much you love spending time with Will.

“We just wanna have a boys night, next time, alright?”

Now your smile falls, only for just a second but Steve sees it, he sees the disappointment in your eyes, the one you quickly mask with a pretentious smile, “oh that’s fine, umm I hope you’re going to have lots of fun,” you say, leaning in to kiss his cheek, he gives you a smile, one that doesn’t even reach his eyes. You lay your head on his shoulder, linking your arm with him.

A weird feeling settles in the pit of Steve’s stomach, he leans back and stares at the man in front of him, he sees the way his eyes meet Nancy’s blue ones, it just for a split second but he sees it.

A few months ago, he wouldn’t question it. He never had a problem with their friendship, Jonathan was her friend before he became her boyfriend and you never had a problem with their friendship either, you trusted them.

Maybe you shouldn’t have.

Steve doesn’t know why but he can’t shake the feeling that something is off, that things have been off for a long time now. He tells himself that he is overthinking things, that he lets his anxious thoughts get the best of him but they had only gotten worse when Nancy canceled their date after he had dropped her off at home, he was excited to take her out, he had it all planned, he would take her to dinner and movies and afterwards they’d watch the stars at lovers lake but instead he was left in the cold after she told him that she couldn’t go out with him because she had to help Mike with his homework. Mike, who was here at Benny’s diner with Will, Dustin and Lucas.

“What the fuck,” he mumbles as he stands there, staring at them with a dumbfound expression on his face.

Mike was clearly not in need of help for his homework and Will didn’t seem to have plans for a movie night any time soon. Someone drove them here but it wasn’t Jonathan, no, it was Eddie Munson who jumped into the empty seat next to Dustin as he held some book in his hand.

Slowly he started piecing everything together and as he thought of all the times Nancy had canceled their dates at the same time as Jonathan had canceled yours, his stomach dropped. Those weird looks both of them shared earlier today just added to his worry.

He forgot about the order he had placed and rushed out of the diner, ignoring the waitress who called for him when she held the bag and a drink in her hand. His mind was running wild as the worst scenarios rushed through his thoughts.

He doesn’t even remember how he got into the car or how he drove all the way to the Wheeler’s house. His heart was racing and his hands were clenched into fists, he was nervous and the anger inside of him was already building up.

He had suspicions but he didn’t want to dwell on them, not yet. But when he climbed up the wall to his girlfriend’s window, hoping to find her studying or listening to music, he didn’t find her doing any of those things. Instead, he caught her having sex with your boyfriend.

He grips the wall tighter when he almost loses his footing. He can’t even stop the gasp from escaping as his eyes widen.

His girlfriend is having sex with your boyfriend.

Nancy is fucking Jonathan, Nancy who is your best friend.

He stares in shock, frozen in place and with a broken heart he stares at them. Jonathan’s hands are on her waist, gripping her tightly as she bounces on his cock. She bites her lip to stay quiet.

The bile rises in his throat, he feels sick, he feels betrayed and angry.

He turns away and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before he jumps down into the grass. He almost throws up into Karen’s beloved flowers but he holds himself together, at least for now.

Tears brim in his eyes, he doesn’t understand.

Why would she do this to him?

Why would she hurt him like this?

Why would she cheat on him?

Why would she do this to you?

You have always been her best friend, you grew up together, your mom’s are best friends. You have always been by her side, you have done everything for her. You could’ve chosen other friends, you could’ve been friends with other popular girls like Chrissy Cunningham but no, you stayed friends with Nancy.

And Jonathan… Now, Steve had become friends with him when he started dating her and thought that Jonathan was actually a pretty decent guy but before that, he had always wondered why you even gave him the time of your day. You are the popular and annoyingly happy cheerleader and he is just, well, he is Jonathan. The boring freak. But then again, rumor has it that you have always liked to associate with men who weren’t anywhere near your league and apparently you liked to fuck freaks, that’s something that Steve could never believe. You were a good girl, you had that innocence in your eyes that told him that rumors were just rumors.

For some time, Steve thought that you were playing a prank on Jonathan, that you dated him for a bet but when a year had passed and you still looked at him with those stupid heart eyes, he knew you were serious about him.

Now he feels like throwing up, he isn’t just angry for himself, he is also angry for you. If the betrayal hurt him so much, what would it do to you?

The moment he steps into his bathroom, he drops to his knees and pukes his lunch out.

God, he has never felt this sick in his life before. How will he ever move on from this?

He loves her with all his heart but he is so incredibly angry and hurt. He spends the rest of the night crying, unable to catch a moment of peace. He stares at the ceiling as he lays in his lonely bed, tears stream down his face as his mind replays the horrible things he had seen.

What should he do?

Should he confront them? Should he break up with her? Should he make a scene and humiliate them in front of the whole school? No, he is not like that and he wouldn’t do this to you.

He doesn’t know what to do. So he pretends that everything is fine.

He takes a shower, styles his hair and picks out an outfit that you won’t tease him for. He drinks his coffee and then he picks up Nancy but the moment he lays his eyes on her and she gives him that cheerful smile and kiss on the lips, he feels himself growing sick again. How could she pretend that nothing happened? How could she kiss him like this when her lips touched his last night?

The anger diminished a little only to rush back even more intensely when he was forced to greet Jonathan at school. God, he wants to punch him so hard, he has to restrain himself from doing so. Especially when he lays eyes on you. A big smile is resting on your face, your eyes are shining with happiness, your perfect ponytail is bouncing as you rush through the hallways with your pretty little cheerleader uniform. You wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s waist and lay your head on his back, “hi babe, I missed you so much last night.”

“I missed you too, y/n,” Jonathan says as he smiles, placing his hand over yours.

Steve grows hatred for the man and for his girlfriend when he feels her squeezing his hand.

He can’t even stop the scoff before it falls from his lips, causing all three of you to look at him in confusion.

“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks, feigning concern.

He nods.

You raise your eyebrows at him, a cocky smirk tugging at your lips, “ooh, did someone had a rough night?”

Yes and you’d be having one too if you knew that your boyfriend was buried in my girlfriend last night, Steve thinks to himself.

He doesn’t say anything, instead he shuts his locker and turns away from the three of you, “I gotta go to class,” he mumbles without giving Nancy a goodbye kiss or Jonathan a pat on the back the way he always does. He bumps into someone, not bothering to apologize, he grumpily mutters something under his breath.

“Who pissed in his coffee this morning?” You chuckle, missing the way Nancy and Jonathan looked at each other.

“I- he probably got into a fight with his dad again,” Nancy says, shrugging nervously.

You step away from Jonathan, walking towards your best friend, you take her hand in yours, “is everything alright between the two of you?”

She blinks, looking over your shoulder and back to you, she nods, “y-yeah, totally,” she smiles, shaking her head.

“Okay, good,” you smile, squeezing her hand, “but I’m always here for you and you can talk to me, okay?”

She looks down, nodding at your words, “yeah, I know.”

“Alright, well, I think we should go shopping after school, I need some new party outfits.”

“Oh, I-I can’t, y/n. I already have an outfit and I was supposed to look after Holly today.”

You frown at her words, a sad look flashes in her eyes.

“You are a busy girl, Nancy Wheeler.”

Steve was being weird, well, he was always being weird but something about him today was just off. Not only did he pay no mind to you, he also ignored Jonathan and Nancy.

No comments were thrown your way today, no mean words, no remarks, he didn’t tease you or even glare at you. Nothing. You saw him talking to Robin Buckley when you were on your way to the bathroom. He looked like was on the verge of tears and the girl comforted him with a hand on his shoulder and words you couldn’t make out.

Seeing him like this makes you feel weird, you don’t really care about him but you care about your friend and there’s clearly something going on between them and you are certain about that when you sit down beside Jonathan in the cafeteria. Just like yesterday, you sit across from Steve but instead of meeting his teasing eyes, you meet his angry ones, though you feel that the anger isn’t directed at you but at someone else.

You try to ignore him and the way his gaze seems to be getting more and more intense. He watches you and Jonathan, a frown deep in his features as he watches how your boyfriend kisses you like nothing ever happened.

You don’t know.

You don’t know what he is doing behind your back.

You don’t know that he is hurting you, that he is cheating on you with your best friend.

How long have they been going behind your backs?

Has this been happening when you were all together at parties? When you went to the lakehouse his dad owns? God, he could scream and expose their disgusting secrets to the whole school.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Nancy asks as she puts her hand on Steve’s thigh. He tenses up, clenching his jaw as he turns to look at her.

“No, I’m not hungry, Nancy.”

Your eyes flash with surprise, the tone in his voice was filled with anger.

She looks taken aback, furrowing her brows at her boyfriend’s behavior, “you barely touched your food–”

“I said I’m not hungry!” He snaps at her.

Before any of you can even react, he gets up and storms out of the cafeteria, not caring about the prying eyes of the other students.

You frown at his behavior, growing angry when you see the tears in Nancy’s eyes.

“That asshole,” you mumble, getting up, you follow him out, ignoring Jonathan’s and Nancy’s calls.

You slam the doors to the hallway open, rushing towards him with anger in your bones.

“Steve!”

He keeps walking, ignoring you.

“Hey!”

He abruptly turns around, throwing his hands up, he sighs, “what!?”

“What?” You scoff, “what the fuck was that? Why are you being so mean?”

He laughs at your words, closing his eyes, he pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head.

“She didn’t do anything to you, Steve.”

“If only you knew.”

Something about the way he said it and looked at you, sent shivers down your spine.

Instead of the usual hatred and anger you see in his eyes, you find empathy in them. Why? It makes you nervous.

“W-What do you mean?” You ask.

Steve knows that you won’t believe him, you gotta see it with your own eyes, you don’t deserve this. You love Jonathan, you have always been good to him. You deserve better and he knows he does too.

“Steve,” you mumble, “what do you mean?”

You have got to know. You’re a smart girl, you should’ve noticed the way your best friend and boyfriend behaved around you, the way they looked at each other, the way they touched each other.

Right now, he doesn’t hate you, he just feels sorry for you.

“Go to Nancy’s house this afternoon.”

“No, she– Steve!”

He walks away before giving you an explanation, leaving you standing there like a fool.

What is this about?

Usually, you would never listen to him, you wouldn’t do what he had told you to do. You wouldn’t go to Nancy’s house if you didn’t have your own suspicions already, the ones that made you feel sick for the longest time.

His seriousness and his anger is what made you feel scared.

He wasn’t mean to you today, he didn’t even glare at you, that’s how you knew that something was very off.

So you listened to him, you went to Nancy’s house. You didn’t want to but on the way home from the mall, you drove by her house and found Jonathan’s car in the driveway.

Nothing weird about it right? They are friends, they are allowed to be friends.

Yet, you can’t shake that awful feeling that something horrible is about to happen. So you park the car and make your way inside her house, using the spare key that she gave you years ago.

The house is empty, Karen isn’t there and neither is Ted. Holly and Mike are nowhere to be seen. You don’t call out for Nancy the way you usually would. With a nervous sigh, you grip the keys tighter in your hand and climb up the stairs.

You hear music coming from her room, The Cure. Nancy doesn’t listen to The Cure but your boyfriend does. You hear the noises, you hear them.

With a shaky hand, you open the door and as you lay eyes on the two of them, your heart drops and a gasp falls from your lips as you raise your hand to cup your mouth.

There he is, your boyfriend, shoving his tongue down your best friend’s throat. Both of them are half naked, her chest is covered in hickeys already, his hair is a mess, both of them moaning into each other’s mouths as she moves her hand into his pants.

“What the fuck?”

They jump apart when they hear your voice, staring at each other like deers caught in headlights before they look at you.

Her blue eyes widen as do his.

No longer do their cheeks glow red, instead they look pale when they see you standing there with tears in your eyes and anger on your face.

“Fuck– y/n!” He scrambles to his feet, trying to find his shirt.

Nancy looks away from you, crossing her arms over her chest, she suddenly feels too ashamed to meet your eyes.

“You are fucking disgusting,” you mumble angrily, ignoring the heartbreak in your chest or the feeling of your throat getting tighter. The tears begin to spill and you look between them in shock.

Jonathan takes a step towards you.

“Don’t come anywhere near me, Byers. We’re fucking over!”

His eyes widen, his lips part as he tries to speak but no words leave his mouth.

“And you, fuck you, Nancy.”

You don’t care to look back at them, rushing out of the house as quickly as you came. You wipe away the angry tears, biting down on your quivering lip as you get back in your car.

You knew it. You’re no fool. You knew it. You just made yourself believe that you didn’t but deep down you always knew. Who were you trying to fool? It was so clear.

Can you even feel heartbroken? You set yourself up for it when you started dating the guy who always saw her.

Maybe Steve should’ve told you, maybe he shouldn’t have told you to go to her place, maybe he should’ve protected you from seeing that. But did he have a choice? You hate him, you wouldn’t have believed him, you would’ve scoffed at him and laughed in his face.

But still, he should’ve told you.

He shouldn’t have let you see that.

Now he feels guilty for it, despite the ache in his chest and the betrayal he still tries to deal with, he feels guilty for not telling you.

You are pretending to be fine when you’re not.

You didn’t come to school on Wednesday, Thursday or today but here you are at Tina’s party, dressed in the skimpiest outfit you could find, throwing back one drink after the other, yet you don’t seem to be getting drunk but it’s only as he notices you pouring yourself coke instead of alcohol that he realizes you aren’t here to get drunk.

You are here because you don’t want to be alone, just like him. He had a feeling that you would come, that was another reason why he came.

The loud music is hurting his ears and the whiskey is starting to give him a headache. He places his drink on a small table. Running his hand through his messy hair, he pushes past a group of girls who begin to whisper behind his back. Nancy’s and Jonathan’s name falling from their lips. He decides to ignore it.

His focus is on something else, you. You’re standing by the punch with Heather Holloway, giggling about something she had whispered in your ear.

Should he talk to you?

You down the rest of your drink and place the cup on the counter, gesturing to the stairs as you leave your friend. He decides to follow you and calls your name.

You turn around, smile disappearing from your face when your eyes lock with his, an eye roll and a scoff is all he gets.

He rolls his eyes too, what else did he expect, a hug?

“Can we talk?” He has to yell for you to understand him.

You only shake your head and continue your way up the stairs.

“Please?”

Once you stop in front of a door, you turn around and look up at him, “no.” You slam the door in his face, causing him to sigh.

He leans against the wall, deciding to wait for you.

What does he even want to say to you? Does he even want to say anything to you?

When you walk back out, he doesn’t even give you a chance, he takes your hand in his, ignoring your protests or your light slap to his back.

“Let go of me, Harrington!”

“Nope,” he mumbles as he pulls you into an empty and dark room, he pushes against the wall before he turns to close and lock the door, leaving you in complete darkness.

“What the hell do you want from me?”

Steve frowns.

“Shit, hold on,” he mumbles, “I can’t find the light switch.”

“Seriously?”

You can hear him moving around, cursing under his breath. Maybe it would’ve been funny under different circumstances, if you were locked in a room with someone other than King Steve.

“Got it,” he mumbles as he turns on the lights.

Your arms are crossed and a frown is on your face, lips set in a pout.

“I uh– I heard you broke up with Jonathan?”

You squint your eyes, “that’s what you wanna talk about? What the fuck do you really want?”

“I should’ve told you, I shouldn’t have sent you there,” he admits in guilt, giving you a sad look.

You scoff at his words, rolling your eyes, “yeah right, you want me to believe that, Steve?”

“It’s the truth, I’m very sorry,” he says, “about everything. You don’t deserve this, they’re fucking assholes for doing– for you know–”

“For cheating on us?”

He glances at you and for the first time he sees something other than hatred, empathy, you feel for him just like he feels for you but it’s obvious that you still don’t like him.

“I-I can’t imagine what it must feel like for you,” he mumbles, “she’s been your best friend since you were kids and he–”

“Fuck them both,” you mumble, rolling your eyes.

You are in denial about your feelings, pretending to be fine so you don’t have to confront your pain. He can see it in your eyes though, the pain they left behind.

“When did you find out?” You ask.

“The day before you did. I went to the diner and saw Will and Mike there and I knew that they both lied, I went to her house and.. yeah.” He can’t bring himself to say it, he doesn’t have to. You know it.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

He looks confused almost, shaking his head slightly, “you wouldn’t have believed me?”

“You expect me to believe that that’s the reason why you didn’t just tell me?”

“That is the reason!”

You walk closer to him as tears well up in your eyes, “fuck you, Steve Harrington! Fuck you. You sent me there to taunt me! I know you caught them and you wanted me to catch them too, you wanted me to feel what you felt, you wanted me to suffer, you’re a fucking dick, Steve! I hate you!”

His eyes flash with anger, he scoffs at you, clenching his jaw.

“Go on, let it all out.” He nods.

He might not know as well as your friends do but he can tell that you were pushing the pain back, you refused to cry over a man who cheated on you and over a best friend who betrayed you in the most hurtful way.

You are dealing with your emotions by using him as a punching bag and he doesn’t like it, so he decides to do something else.

“Y-You are such a–” He cuts you off by grabbing your cheeks and smashing his lips against yours, he kisses you roughly.

Your eyes widen and you squeal in surprise.

What the fuck?

Steve Harrington is kissing you.

He is kissing you and you fucking like it. Your life couldn’t have been more of a mess. First your boyfriend cheats on you with your best friend that he dated and now he is kissing you. He is supposed to hate you, he is supposed to be horrible to you but instead he is kissing you in a way you have never been kissed before.

Fuck it.

His lips tastes like cheery coke and he smells so fucking good.

You throw your arms around his shoulders and close your eyes as you kiss him back. He moans against you, the sound shoots straight to your core. You move your hand into his hair, gripping it and pulling his perfectly styled hair.

His hands slide down to your waist and he pushes you further into the room without breaking the kiss that grows heavier by the second. He grabs your ass, squeezing it tightly with his large hands, earning a moan from you. Steve smirks against your lips as he presses himself against you.

“S-Steve,” you whimper as you break the kiss, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You ask the man you are supposed to hate.

He presses another kiss to your lips before he pulls away, staring at you with his hazel eyes that hold both pain and anger, “why do they get to have all the fun?”

You swallow nervously, you hate him, you hate him so much and yet you find yourself longing for him, for his touch, for his lips.

He leans in again but you push him back weakly.

“No,” you whisper, “I hate you.”

“Yeah?” He rasps against your lips, “feeling’s mutual, honey. That’s okay, we don’t have to like each other, right?”

You blink, shrugging, your eyes flicker down to his lips, “I-I guess not.”

“You can mark me up, show her who fucked me,” he tells you as he pushes you down onto the soft bed, playing with the hem of your skirt, “you can let your anger out on me, I don’t mind.”

“You really wanna fuck me?” You ask as you chase after his lips, kissing them almost a little too softly.

“Fuck yes, I do,” he murmurs as he latches his lips onto your neck, spreading your legs so he can settle in between them, “I wanna rip your skimpy little clothes off, make you scream my name.”

His lips are soft yet rough as he marks your neck, he sucks and bites on your skin, squeezing your waist tightly with his hands as he grinds his clothed dick against your aching cunt.

“What makes you think that I’ll scream your name?” You ask, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows as you moan at the feeling of him. God, you can already tell that he is big.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he says in a way that sends shivers down your spine, your pussy clenches around nothing.

“Do it then because he never could.”

A smirk grows on his face.

“You wanna fuck me to get back at him?” You ask, “do it then.”

Before you know it, he rips your top off, throwing it over his shoulder before your bra joins it on the floor. Lust fills his eyes and his cheeks flush red when he sees your nipple piercings, “holy fuck,” he mumbles, staring at you with a dumbfound expression as he grabs your boobs, touching your sensitive nipples with his fingers, “shit… the good little cheerleader has her nipples pierced?”

You look up at him with a pleading look in your eyes, moaning as he continues to roll your nipples. You grab his hand, bringing it up to your face, you wrap your lips around his thumb and begin to suck on it.

His eyes widen yet again, pants growing tighter as his cock hardens in his tight jeans.

“Fuck, you’re a little freak aren’t you?” He smirks darkly, “Byers couldn’t handle all of that, huh? Guess he wasn’t the freak after all, it was you.”

He really couldn’t. It was only ever lazy sex with him, sloppy blowjobs and making love. You didn’t want to make love, you wanted to be fucked like a whore.

You shake your head at him and spread your legs, letting your skirt slide up.

“Shut up and fuck me before I find someone else.”

“Shit,” he mumbles as his eyes fall on your lacy red underwear, your already soaked underwear, it makes his dick twitch in his pants.

“You shut up, princess. I’m not letting anyone fuck you, you’re mine tonight.”

He drops to his knees in front of you, grabbing your ankles, he slides his hand up to your thigh, teasing you by rubbing your clit over your panties.

“Look at you, your panties are soaked,” he teases, smirking at the way you bite your lip to stop the moans from falling. He grabs the thin material, ripping it off and throwing it on the ground.

Your eyes widen and you lean on your elbows, staring at him with a disapproving look on your face. The panties that you had bought a few days ago are now on the floor, ripped apart.

“Steve–”

He presses a teasing kiss on your clit, smirking when you whine at his action.

“You’re so fucking wet, honey. Is that all for me? I thought you hated me.”

“God, fucking shut up and d–” He cuts you off, gripping your hips tighter, he licks up stripe up your pussy, moaning at your taste, “you shut up,” he mumbles before he buries his face in your cunt. Nudging his nose against your aching clit as he slips his tongue inside of you.

“Oh my god,” you whimper as you slap your hand over your mouth, not wanting to give the satisfaction that he is making you moan.

He grunts against you, sliding his hand up your body, he cups your boob and tugs at your nipple, earning a gasp from you.

“Steve!”

“Hand off your mouth, y/n,” he says, glaring at you with dark eyes, “let me hear your moans.”

You roll your eyes and put your hand down.

“Good girl.” He mumbles, eyes twinkling with mischief when he sees your flustered expression, he feels you clench around his fingers as he pushes two inside of you, “fuck, you’re tight, how am I gonna fit inside of you?”

His words cause you to roll your eyes again, he will never stop being cocky.

Moans and whimpers echo through the room when he begins to eat you out, switching his fingers with his tongue as he grabs your ass and holds you even tighter than before when you begin to squirm beneath him.

You reach down, gripping his hair and pulling at it.

“F-Fuck, Steve….” You whine. Tears blur your vision, your muscles tense and your back arches in pleasure, “d-don’t stop, Steve, please don’t stop,” you breathe as you feel his tongue on your clit again and his fingers back in your pussy.

He moans against you, mumbling praises you cannot focus on.

King Steve is eating your pussy like his life is depending on it and he moans like a slut while doing so. Palming himself as he tastes you on his tongue and listens to you falling apart for him.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper as you hold his hair tighter, “please, I’m so close.”

“Yeah? You wanna cum for me? Do it, honey, do it.”

You let go, pushing away all the thoughts that are telling you how wrong this is, you cum hard and he moans and continues to lick you, his eyes roll back, he enjoys every fucking second of this.

“I haven’t even fucked you and your legs are already shaking.”

You open your eyes to look at him, your chest rises up and down heavily, sweat coating your forehead already, you swallow, pushing yourself up, you get on your hands and knees and crawl towards him, watching as he takes his shirt off. You grab him by his belt and pull him in.

You look up at him through hooded eyes, your hair is a mess, your skin is hot, you’re half naked, the only item left on you is your skimpy little skirt, he wants to fuck you while you are wearing it.

“Can I suck your cock?” You ask, sliding your hand up his body, “I love sucking cock.”

His eyes widen and he almost chokes on his spit, how can you look at him so innocently and speak such filthy words?

“I-I… huh?”

Nancy was different, sure she sucked him off but she didn’t really seem to be excited to do it, you though? You want it, for your own pleasure.

“You love sucking cocks?”

The look on his face almost makes you giggle, almost.

“Mhmm.”

“How many cocks have you sucked before?” He asks in curiosity.

You unbuckle his belt slowly, eying all the moles on his skin, his chest hair, his toned arms, the growing mustache. Steve is hot. Has he always been this hot?

“Take your pants off, Steve.”

“Answer the question first and then I’ll take them off.”

You roll your eyes.

“Before Jonathan? Just two.”

“Oh, who was it?”

“Take your pants off and I’ll tell you.”

He takes them off instantly, kicking his shoes off and throwing his pants somewhere.

“Well the first guy… you don’t know him, I met him when I went to visit a friend in Chicago,” you shrug.

He raises his brows, nodding, “the second guy?”

A smirk grows on your face, you lick your lips and place your hand on his dick, rubbing your palm over his boxers. He shudders, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he moans.

“Eddie Munson.”

His eyes widen at your admission, lips parting in surprise, “w-what? Eddie Munson, th-the f–”

“Yes, Eddie Munson!” You snap, not letting him finish the sentence. “I sucked him off in the bathroom after lunch break, Jason Carver was being mean to him and I felt bad for him.”

“So you cheered him up by sucking his dick?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he's jealous.

“Yeah, I mean who wouldn’t want to get his dick sucked by the head cheerleader?” You giggle, “he really liked it, came back for more.”

“And then what?”

You lean closer and kiss his hip bone and his stomach, trailing your lips up to his chest until you're kneeling on the bed in front of him, placing your hand on his chest and your lips on his neck, you kiss his neck the way he did to you earlier.

“He fucked me in his van, in the bathroom at school, in the janitor’s closet, behind the bleachers, he fucked me hard.”

Steve moans, he feels your cold piercing against his skin, his hand slide down to your waist.

“I bet you can’t fuck me the way he did.” You murmur as you lean back down again, tugging at his boxers, you slide them down his legs and you gasp. His cock slaps against his stomach, pre cum leaking from his tip.

“Oh.” Is all you manage to say as you stare at his cock. Suddenly you look intimidated, your cheeks heat up and your eyes widen, “t-that’s not gonna fit.”

Steve chuckles darkly, gripping your jaw, he caresses your cheek, “oh, we’ll make it fit, honey.”

“You still wanna suck it?” He asks.

You nod, whining when he puts his hand on your head, guiding you towards him.

“It’s all yours.”

You wrap your much smaller hand around his dick, stroking him a few times before you begin to tease him with your tongue, swirling it around the tip, you close your eyes and enjoy the sound of his moans.

“O-Oh fuck,” he murmurs. Gripping your hair tightly, he looks down at you, watching as you take more of him, his cock disappearing in your mouth, inch by inch until it hits the back of your throat.

“Jesus fuck….”

“Mhmmm,” you moan around him, hollowing your cheeks as you begin to suck him off.

“Shit, stop…” He whines, tugging at your hair, “I’m not gonna last if you do that, I-I need to cum inside of you.”

You don’t listen to him, instead you continue to suck him off eagerly, moaning and whimpering in pleasure, you arch your back, cupping his balls–

“Fuck!” He whimpers, basically shoving you off of him, “you little slut, I said I’m not gonna last.”

You pout at him, “but I want to taste you too.”

He stares at you bewildered. What the fuck? He never thought you would be like this but god, does he love it.

“Later,” he says as he pushes you down and crawls on top of you, cupping your cheeks, his nose brushes against yours, “taste yourself instead,” he smirks before he kisses you again.

The kiss is nothing near soft, it’s rough and needy. Your teeth clash, your tongues meet and you both moan and groan desperately. He pushes your skirt up higher, wrapping your legs around his waist, he takes his aching cock in his hand, sliding it between your slick folds, causing you both to moan.

“Please, please… Fuck me, Steve. Make me feel something, please.”

You beg and you plead, you arch your back and you pull him closer. He looks at you, truly looks at you for the first time. You’re beautiful, pretty, cute. You’re cute, even as you lay there looking up at him like a needy whore. He furrows his brows, watching the way your lips part, your pretty eyes staring into his, your soft hand touches his shoulder.

What is he doing?

What has he been doing all this time?

“I got you, fuck, I got you.”

He concentrates on you, on the look on your face as he pushes inside of you for the very first time.

You whine and you bit your lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. You raise your head, looking down, you watch how his cock disappears in your pussy. Tears spring to your eyes as he stretches you open.

“Poor baby, can’t take my big cock huh?” He teases with a smirk on his face that quickly falls again when you clench around him, causing him to stop moving, “f-fuck.”

“Keep moving, Steve, please.”

He leans down, burying his face in your neck, he finally pushes all the way in. He says your name so filthily, it only makes you clench around him again.

He curses at you as he begins to move, pushing himself back up again, he places both his hands beside you.

“Pound my pussy, Steve, ruin me.”

He smirks at your words and pulls out, looking down to see his glistening cock pushing back into your tight hole again. It makes his stomach flutter.

“Such a good fucking pussy.”

“Mhmm, you’re big, biggest cock I've ever had.”

He only gives you a cocky grin in return. He knows he’s big.

He grabs your boobs roughly and finally, he begins to fuck you like you wanted him too.

“Ah– Steve, fuck… don’t stop!”

He begins to pound your pussy in the most disrespectful way possible, squelching noises and your whines echo through the room. He watches your fucked out expression, he watches the way your pretty face scrunches up in pleasure, the way your screw your eyes shut. All you can do is moan and whimper and all he can do is stare at you in awe.

He presses his hand on your lower stomach, pushing down on it, “you feel me, baby?” He asks, kissing your lips, “you feel my cock inside of you?”

You nod, whimpering pathetically.

You feel him, you feel him everywhere. His cock is splitting you open so perfectly, fucking you in a way only a man can.

“Byers is a fucking idiot, stupid boy doesn’t know how to handle a woman,” he grunts as he thrusts into your roughly, “he’s fucking missing out. Shit baby, you’ve got the most perfect little pussy, so fucking tight and wet for me.”

“S-Steve…”

“I’m gonna fucking cum inside of you, gonna breed that little pussy and make you mine, gonna fill you up with my cum, over and over again until you’re f-fucking pregnant, gonna show those fuckers what they missed.”

“P-Please,” you moan.

“You’d like that huh? You’d love to get pregnant by the guy you hate?”

“Mhmm,” you whine, you reach for his hands, dragging them up to your neck, “choke me, daddy.”

His eyes widen and he fucking whimpers, his dick is throbbing inside of you and you know he is close.

“God, you’re fucking filthy,” he grunts, wrapping his hands around your throat, “call me that again.”

“Daddy.”

He fucks you harder, rougher, faster and deeper. He wants you, he needs you. He is desperate for you.

You put your hands around his wrists, looking up at him through the tears, “harder.”

He gives you what you want, keeping his eyes locked with yours. You move your hips, meeting his thrusts. Tears stream down your face and you can no longer hold the sobs in.

“Cum inside of me, Steve.”

Your walls flutter around him and his hold on you tightens, “y-you really want me to cum inside of you–”

“Please, I need it!”

His hips stutter and he can no longer hold back, he slams his lips against yours, moving one hand down, his fingers graze your sensitive nipples for a moment, he touches your stomach, your hips and then his fingertips find your clit, rubbing fast circles on it. He listens to the way your moans grow high pitched as you cum around him.

“I’m cumming, f-fuck,” he murmurs against your lips as he spills inside of you, coating your walls with his seed.

You both whimper in pleasure. He continues to thrust in and out of you slowly, for a moment and then he slumps against you, letting go of your throat and letting his face fall against your chest, his throbbing cock still inside of you.

You both need a moment to calm down from this.

Surprisingly, Steve doesn’t push off of you and pretend like nothing happened. He just continues to lay there, on your chest, tracing your skin with his rough hands.

And you, you play with his hair, not a single thought of your ex boyfriend or your best friend. All you think about is Steve. How good he made you feel, how pretty he looked when he ate your pussy, how he kissed you, how he smells.

“I think you almost fucked the hate I have for you out of me.”

He snorts at you, “wow, very romantic.”

“Oh we’re being romantic now?”

He looks up at you, “I mean, I’m still inside of you and you are playing with my hair so yeah.”

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes but are unable to fight the smile off your face.

He grins, “no one ever called me daddy.”

“Someone else will call you daddy in 9 months if you don’t get me the morning after pill.”

You almost expect him to grow pale but instead he laughs nervously.

“Babies can’t talk, honey.”

“Huh?”

“You said in 9 months, are you telling me newborns can speak now?”

“I was joking!” You mumble.

“Mhmm, sure you were,” he chuckles.

For a moment, the room is filled with silence. All you hear is the sound of the music from the party, the laughter and the loud voices. The smell of sex lingers in the room, the smell of him lingers on you.

“You know what? I think we should’ve done that a long time ago,” Steve admits, “in fact I think we should do it again.”

You smirk at him, “to get back at them or because you just wanna be called daddy again?”

For a moment, his face grows serious and he finds himself staring at you longingly, “I just wanna do it again, not to get back at them, fuck them.”

“Let’s do it then,” you whisper, “but take me home first.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A week ago, you would’ve laughed if someone told you that this would happen. That you would break up with your cheating boyfriend, lose a best friend you had known since childhood and fuck the man you hated half of your life.

Yet here you are, letting Steve Harrington help you get dressed, letting him steal kisses, letting him slap your ass on the way out.

You walked into his room hating him and you walked out of here, well, hating him a little less.

You both got betrayed by people you loved, deeply. You lost them but at least you had found each other.

In a perfect world you would be together.

Maybe this can be a perfect world after all.

tagging some faves @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @mysticmunson @aftermidnightwriting

#steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington imagine #stranger things smut #stranger things angst #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine

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jayflrt · 1 year

Text

a stoner’s guide to starbucks

PAIRING ▸ lee heeseung x fem!reader (ft. enha, winter from aespa, beomgyu from txt, and dino from svt)

GENRES ▸ social media au (smau), crack, fluff, stoner au, strangers to lovers

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, sexual jokes, zero braincells, limited knowledge of the starbucks corporation, weed consumption, dumb shenanigans, ignore timestamps!

SUMMARY ▸ in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello !! i am alive (real) also i was so committed to the bit that i got high to make this <3 shoutout @hoonbear for the Extensive Starbucks Knowledge 🫡 i would also like to note that i am NOT doing a tag list for this smau. also please note that this is a fictional setting and to boycott starbucks in real life for firing their workers over their pro palestine speech. remember to do your daily click!

INCOMING MESSAGES !

TEASER

PROFILES ONE | TWO

01. weed guy beomgyu

02. red bitch with the freckles rizz

03. starbucks public enemy #1

04. 50% cut ???

05. lee heeseung: upstanding citizen, NOT murderer

06. clearing up misunderstandings with an aqi under 50

07. chat is this real

08. daddy’s home 2

09. biodegrade ur chance at romance

10. triple filtered reverse osmosis water filtration system

11. losing the idgaf war

12. crazy gets u bitches

13. banned in the name of love

14. riki s worded irl??

15. 8ball brings nations together

16. killing myself postponed tonight repostponed

17. scheming sponsored by crazy bitch 62 and unimportant goon

18. the do-over date to end all first dates

19. seek BetterHelp.com

20. quarterly store meeting (remote)

21. WHAT ARE WE

22. heejake support group for heejake victims

23. bro fumbled the unfumbleable

24. sunghoon is the new Papa John

25. according to penal code 837 🤓☝️

26. jungwon pulls bitches (the duolingo owl) too

27. someone PLEASE take jungwon to see the teenage mutant ninja turtles movie

28. 14th date’s the charm

29. doc mcuggo

30. nothing to write home about

31. LONDON I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL I LOST MY QUEEN TOO

32. starbucks double chocolate brownies

33. having a kid together before dating is next level

34. tweaking out on 5 hour energy

35. 7.83 inches

36. The Milk Makes The Man, And The Man Makes The Milk

37. sunghoon from papa john's from starbucks

38. then who's flying the plane???

39. league of legends quarantine ex girlfriend

40. WELCOME HOME CHEATER 😐

41. unknown evil forces (chaewon)

42. friends to rivaling coffee shop employees au

43. do NOT get the weed frap

44. now on channel 9 news

45. choose your fighter heeseung tit variation

46. kitten i'll be honest, daddy's about to kill himself

47. a fire can be put out but missing a bereal is forever

48. baby's first customer connection score

49. #STARBUCKS_FIRST_WIN

50. epilogue

UNCUTS !

weekly weed check 🗣️

SUNGHOONXJLAW

happy weedsgiving

minjake texts

the Sunghoon Special

goons vs baby shark movie

COMPLETED 12/1/23

#enhypen #enhypen smau #enhypen fluff #heeseung fluff #heeseung smau #heeseung imagines #enhypen imagines #lee heeseung #enhypen social media au #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #heeseung scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen reactions #heeseung drabbles #heeseung reactions

3K notes · View notes

hoonharem · 3 months

Text

recs

📓 all sunghoon, 18+.

tags: smut, fave (★), audio

—

❕ all are smut and sunghoon x reader (afab).

🔍 full warnings on original posts; read at your own risk.

—

📓 no to minimal plot

» we can’t be friends ★ (421, ex bf!hoon)

» guilty as charged (486, somnophilia)

» now he knows (943, jealous!hoon)

» good guys could never (1.3k, brother’s friend!hoon)

» bratty baby (1.4k, tamer!hoon)

» fuck me like a slut (1.4k, bf!hoon)

» you're on my mind and i want you as mine (1.4k, fwb!hoon)

» insatiable (1.5k, fingering)

» only you (1.6k, jealous!reader)

» you get me so high all the time (1.6k, smoking)

» what are friends for? (1.8k, bff!hoon)

» dangerously (1.8k, bf!hoon, angry sex)

» agora hills (1.9k, idol bf!hoon, somnophilia)

» missed you (1.9k, sub!hoon)

» bestfriend's older brother (1.9k, bff!taesan)

» sample session (2.1k, doctors)

» drip, drip, drip (2.1k, cunnilingus)

» i hate valentine's day (2.1k, bf!hoon)

» pretty boy in glasses, please save me ★ (2.2k, idol!hoon)

» heaven (2.2k, infidelity)

» carnal (2.3k, stepcest, dubcon)

» fuck boy next door (2.7k, tutor!hoon) 1/2

» fuck boy next door (3.3k, tutor!hoon) 2/2

» mine (2.4k, jealous!hoon, ex bf!jake)

» into it (2.6k, frat boy!hoon, fwb)

» all of you (2.7k, bf!hoon)

» subscriber benefits (2.8k, camboy!hoon)

» vacation (2.9k, bf!hoon)

» the lion and the lamb (3k, vampire!hoon)

» pent up (3.2k, idol!hoon, threesome with hee) 1/2

» first and last (3.4k, past love)

» tease (3.5k, possessive!hoon)

» six feet under (3.5k, cheating!hoon)

» okay (3.6k, fwb!hoon, hurt/comfort)

» drawn to you ★ (3.7k, cheating!hoon)

» always and forever (4k, makeup sex)

» cabin fever (4k, bf!hoon)

» conceal (4k, popular!hoon)

» look closely (4k, jealous!hoon)

» car sex (4.3k, street racer!hoon)

» picturesque (4.6k, bf!hoon)

» hard (4.9k, neighbor!hoon, threesome with jay) 1/3

» sweat (5k, neighbor!hoon) 2/3

» mark me yours (5k, idol!hoon, jealousy)

» scream (5k, bf!hoon, horror movie reference) 2/2

» liar, sweetheart (5.1k, twins!hoon, rivals to lovers)

» own little porn star (5.1k, professor!hoon)

» cool with you (5.6k, pervert!hoon)

» little bit of affection (5.7k, manager!hoon)

» bed (7.8k, fiance!hoon)

📓 with plot

» night shift (4.5k, camboy and boss!hoon)

» teach me, please (5.3k, student!hoon) 1/1

» teach me, please (5.1k, student!hoon) 2/2

» are you? (5.7k, bf!hee, reader cheats with hoon) 1/1

» are you mine? (2.5k, ex bf!hee, cheating with hoon) 2/2

» nudes i can't send ★ (6.4k, ex bf!hoon)

» blessed cursed (6.6k, demons, threesome with hee)

» say my name ★ (6.9k, neighbour!hoon, enemies to lovers)

» young, dumb, and full of (8k, pornstars, hyungline!fivesome)

» meddle about ★ (9k, fwb!hoon, threesome with hee) 1/2

» meddle about (with me) ★ (11.9k, fwb!hoon, ex bf!hee) 2/2

» first date etiquette ★ (9.3k, neighbor!hoon)

» forbidden attraction (9.3k, ravenclaw!hoon)

» cross the line (10k, a/b/o, threesome with hee)

» cherry pits (12.9k, dilf!hoon)

» get you better (13.6k, bf!jake, reader cheats with hoon)

» release me, embrace me ★ (15k, a/b/o, bff’s brother!hoon)

» pink whitney ★ (19k, brother's friend)

» one of the damned girls (20.4k, vampire!hoon)

» i’ll love you forever ★ (21.8k, bff!hoon, fake dating)

» gods and monsters ★ (23k, stepcest, love triangle) 1/3

» heaven and back ★ (24k, stepcest, love triangle) 2.1/3

» serial sweetheart ★ (23.6k, bf!hoon, reader cheats with jake)

» the boy next door trope ★ (26.5k, figure skater!hoon)

» deep end (36.6k, summer fling)

📓 hard thoughts, drabbles, etc.

» 24/7 thinking about you

» dirty girl (phone sex)

» jealous sex

» riding sunghoon's nose

» riding sunghoon's abs

» tired!sunghoon

» sweet bf!sunghoon

» ceo!sunghoon

» husband!sunghoon ★

» exboyfriend!sunghoon

» pussy drunk!sunghoon

» ravenclaw!sunghoon

» ovulating!reader ★

» cheating!reader

» high sex drive!reader

» favorite places to lick

— 📔 hyung line

» shared girlfriend (1.6k, gangbang, bf!hee)

» first time blowjob

» favorite positions

» member guessing by having sex

» cam boys

—

❕ part 2 will be out soon.

#sunghoon smut #sunghoon #enhypen smut

763 notes · View notes

patscorner · 12 days

Note

write a Paige fic with them being rivals on the court but secret lovers off the court please and thank you patty🫶

yes ma'am 🫡

Always and Forever

Summary: You and Paige hate each other, or that's what you have everyone else thinking.

wc: 1,780

Contains: swearing, two kisses, just fluff

______________________________

For as long as you could remember, you loved basketball. You don't know when it started, but you knew that it was gonna be your future career. You joined your first team in 5th grade, and quickly became MVP, making progress faster than you could blink.

There was another girl in your class, and for whatever reason, she hated you. She also happened to be on the same basketball team. She made it known she didn't like you, because the first day of tryouts, she shoved you for no reason. Her hatred for you didn't stop there though, she refused to pass the ball to you, even if it meant costing your team a game, or taking unnecessary risks.

Nobody knew why she disliked you, but that animosity only grew as you both did. But there wasn't anything you could do, you both loved basketball, and you weren't gonna stop playing because some kid didn't like you.

But what you didn't know is that she felt the exact opposite. She was so painfully in love with you and so deep in the closet that she didn't know what to do with these feelings. Her only solution was to make you hate her.

Another thing you didn't know is that you felt the exact same way. If an outsider were to look at you two, you'd think it was one of the most intense long lasting rivalries of all time. But you two were head over heels for each other.

You only found out your junior year in high school, because the teachers and coaches were tired of you both bickering. They put you two in a room and told you to figure your shit out. Obviously, it started in a screaming match, but eventually you both grew tired of arguing, and a different type of tension filled the room.

You both start to have an actual conversation, without the arguing and fighting. Of course, there were small jabs at each other, you both still weren't friends, but by the end of the day, you weren’t enemies. Nobody knew that you were gay, so the only solution in your eyes was to pretend to hate each other.

Eventually, she admitted her feelings for you, and you didn't say you liked her back, but instead answered with a kiss. You started dating shortly after, and decided to keep your relationship on the down low. You both know it's for the best, as not everyone was open to the idea of you being gay, including your parents, so you both continued pretending to hate each other.

Even if everybody else thought you couldn’t stand each other, you were so head over heels for the kid who hated you for all of elementary and middle school.

Little did you know that kid would end up being the Paige Bueckers.

“So how does it feel being matched up against Paige Bueckers? I know that you guys have a long history.” the reporter asks, her smile matching yours. Oh, you have history. She's been your girlfriend for about five years now, but the media didn't know.

You and her were never super far from each other, since she got accepted to Uconn, and you got a scholarship to CCSU. The colleges were only thirty-five minutes away from each other, so that made seeing each other much easier.

“Yeah, it's gonna be tough, she's a good basketball player, y’know, great defense, amazing three-pointers.” You smile at the camera. “I'm excited, I can't wait to absolutely destroy her. I've done it before, and I'll do it again, no problem.”

The reporter chuckles at your words. “Big talk, can't wait to see the match up. Anything last words for Paige?” You can't help but smile at the reporter’s egging you on.

“Yeah, give me your worst, Bueckers. I'm coming for you, baby.” You say with a wink, before thanking the reporter, and walking away. You can't help but shake your head at the ridiculousness of your empty words. Everyone but Paige thought you were being serious, and to an extent you were, you had a bet with her that you'd score more than twenty points this game, but the rest was bullshit.

Of course, Paige saw the interview, laughing at your ‘seriousness’. So when it was her turn to be interviewed, she had to say something back.

“I mean, it'll be a fun game. Can't wait to see the big game that CCSU’s ‘top player’ was yapping about.” She throws up hand quotations and tilts her head mockingly as she speaks. “I'm excited to bring her hell and knock her off that tall ass high horse she's sat herself on.”

The reporter is eating up every word coming out of Paige’s mouth.

“Lots of trash talk from both ends, it seems the feud continues?” Paige nods and smiles. “Always and forever.” She winks at the camera as she speaks.

Always and forever.

The words Paige made you repeat back to her when she gave you the promise ring that you had safety-pinned to your jersey at all times. When you first put it there, it sent the media into a spiral, rumors spreading like wildfires. When interviewers finally asked you about it, you said there was someone, but the rumors about who were all incorrect.

Nobody would've guessed Paige, and you both made sure to keep it that way.

The game was just as tough as you imagined it would be. With 4 seconds left in the fourth quarter, the score was tied, 89-89. It was the Huskies ball, and they had one chance to win.

Nika passes the ball to Aubrey from out-of-bounds, starting the shot clock. Aubrey sneaks past defense, and attempts to pass into Paige. But, Aubrey's defender blocks the shot with her fingers, sending the ball flying into your hands.

You react quickly, sprinting back towards the basket, watching as the shot clock hits one second. You're only half-court, but you don't have enough time to get any closer, so you take the risk and let the ball fly.

Just as the ball leaves your hands, the buzzer goes off, and the stadium goes silent as the ball soars through the air. You freeze as you watch the ball fall through the net, the crowd erupting into screams. Your shot went in, making the final score 92-89.

You're immediately surrounded by your teammates, who are chest bumping you, and dapping you up. This moment is something you never want to end, but there's something missing. This moment won't be the same without one thing.

You manage to wiggle free from your extremely hyped up teammates, ignoring your name being called as you make your way to the Uconn bench. You try to ignore the eyes on you, as you find the only person you want to ever have to look for.

When you spot the back of her head, you quickly make your way to her before your confidence runs out. You pull her sleeve, and her eyebrows furrow as she makes eye contact with you.

“What-” She starts, but you cut her off.

“I'm going to kiss you now.” You say, but you don't move. You want to make sure this is what she wants, but as the smile grows on her face, her compliance becomes clear.

“Okay.” she nods as her face turns a bright pink.

You grin as you pull her into a searing kiss, her hands finding your waist as she reciprocates your passion. You hear the gasps around you, which only makes you smile more. When you feel Paige grin against your mouth, you wrap your arms around her neck.

She pulls away, laughing as your whine. Even though there's thousands of people in the room, she only cares about you. “Guess they know now.” she chuckles.

“Paige Madison Bueckers! What the fuck?!” KK screams, causing Paige to roll her eyes and look over her shoulder. “Can I help you?” She deadpans. “I'm a little busy right now.”

KK’s jaw drops even more from the audacity. "I can see that, I better be filled in after."

Paige looks back at you and smiles. “Yeah, later. Now, do you mind?”

“Oh, by all means, continue making out with your arch-nemesis. Don't let me, the six giant cameras, or the sold-out arena stop you.”

You laugh at this, kissing Paige’s cheek before pulling away. You look at your team, and around the stadium, and everyone's sharing the same expression, jaws dropped, eyes wide, and frozen in shock. You look up, and see yourself on the big screen.

Paige smiles down at you, her arm still wrapped around your waist. “I can't believe you did that. You're fucking crazy.”

You shrug and smile. “You love it.”

She kisses the top of your head. “Damn right.”

After the excitement of the kiss calmed down, the same reporter from earlier asked to interview both of you, to which you of course said yes.

“So what is your guys’ relationship status?” She asked, pointing the mic in your direction. You smile widely before answering. “Paige is my girlfriend, and she has been for five, almost six years.”

The reporter shakes her head in shock. “What made you guys choose to keep it a secret and cover it up with a seemingly harsh feud?” This time, she hands the mic to Paige, who shakes her head.

“Well, it started out real. Like I could not stand her, ever since we were on the same basketball team in fifth grade. But eventually, I started to like her, then I started to love her. Turns out she liked me too, so in high school we started to date.” She finished with a shrug.

“Oh wow, I mean this is a shock to everyone. You both played it off very well. What were some of the hardest moments?” You nod as the reporter speaks.

“Probably pretending to not care, especially if one of us has a rough loss or a great win. It was hard not to comfort or celebrate publicly.” You say.

“So everything after junior year in high school was fake? The rivalry, I mean.”

You smile. “Yeah, it was all for the cameras.” Paige’s eyes light up as she looks down at you. The camera picked up on the sparkle in her eyes as she looked at you with nothing but love.

Her hands squeeze your waist as the interview ends, and you both walk away. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and you've never felt happier.

You knew that whether the world knew or not, it was gonna be you and her.

Always and forever.

______________________________

taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerslover @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @pbloverr @breeloveschris

#paige bueckers fanfiction #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #paige x reader #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers head cannons #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers x female oc #paige bueckers x oc #uconn wbb #uconn wcbb #uconnwbb #uconn #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #uconn x reader #wcbb x reader #wcbb

600 notes · View notes

rottiens · 2 months

Text

NOCTURNAL WALTZ | RYŌMEN SUKUNA

✮ summary. . when life tries to ruin your dreams you keep trying. you get up, wipe the sweat off and try again, even when you fall… it's either that, or ally yourself with your rival and hope he doesn't drag you down to the bottom of hell with him.

✮ cw. . workplace harassment (not from sukuna), slight possessiveness, slight violence (blood), alcohol consumption, smoking, eventual smut, exhibitionism, choking kink, dirty talk, breeding kink, 18+

✮ tags. . modern + ballet au, enemies to friends to lovers, briefly fake dating, all characters are adults, descriptions used for the reader: fem + afab!, backstory, has hair long enough to tie, wears dress in one scene. divider creds: cafekitsune.

✮ wc. . 18K

Ever since you were a little girl all you've known to do is dance.

You did it at school performances, you did it at Christmas when your whole family gathered in the living room and the snow fell cold on the tall treetops and red flowers in your garden.

You always remember the scene wistfully and in slow motion, longing for the days that will never return. Your father played the piano and your mother looked on proudly, her hands were always clasped together at chest level watching you with the eyes of an owl making circles with your legs in the air. She always had that expression on her face as if she was afraid you were going to fall, she was always on the edge of her seat, her lips curved into a smile— after all, she was in charge of organizing all your choreography and choosing the songs you were going to dance to, along with your shoes and your outfit. All this was until you were fifteen when you begged her to finally enroll you in a real dance school.

You remember how nervous you were on the first day. You wore your hair pulled back so tight it looked like you were smiling the whole time, your eyebrows stretched and your stomach felt like that Halloween night where you ate so much candy your guts hurt, though all of this was pushed aside the moment you saw the great ballroom.

The walls rose far higher than your little eyes could see. White lights glowed against the beige walls —which your teenager self mentally corrected them later, it wasn't beige, it was salmon, with curtains the color of the peach your mother cut on Sunday mornings— and in the background you could appreciate a melody you knew well since it was your mother's favorite, the one she always chose for you to dance: "dance of the sugar plum fairy."

Training professionally was much more demanding than your mom had told you. You studied in the morning and practiced in the afternoon, your feet hurt all the time in the beginning although with time this became more bearable, however they never stopped hurting because you never stopped practicing.

The lights blinded you for a moment leading you to run away from the incandescent glowing light, causing you to stumble and Sukuna purposely let you fall from his arms so that you kissed the ground.

Your body hits the wooden floor with a dull thud, the live music doesn't stop because of your accident and the director of the ballet claps twice again. It's the signal that the show must go on, it's what the music means that instead of slowing down it rushes to climax, you force yourself to stand up, with a sukuna growling tiredly behind you. No one helps you so you do it alone, you bury your toes in the wood and your injured feet push off the ground and support your weight once more as you rise phoenix-like on your tips.

This is what it takes to be a pro, is what your mother would say if she were alive. You hear her voice loud and strong in your eardrum along with the noise of the music.

One, two and... up!

You hear her ask you for more. Lift your foot more, lift your knees more, straighten your back more. You're trying but—

"You're being too rough," you spit through gritted teeth. Maintaining the fake smile your character must wear.

You know he hears you, yet he remains silent, twisting and turning, holding you above his head and taking one last turn.... Everything seems blurry from your point of view, your stomach churning like a roller coaster even though you don't remember the last thing you ate because this was exactly what you wanted to avoid.

Don't throw up, don't throw up.

You catch the two claps from the director indicating that sukuna should drop you and that's exactly what he does... with a little more force than he should, his hands are loose on your waist, barely gripping you. Your arms stretch, they tremble in the air as does your smile, a cold sweat that shouldn't be there runs down your temples, you feel the salty drops slide over your lower lip and your breathing becomes almost nonexistent, your chest rises and falls and then sukuna lets you go, you are alone, the lights focus completely on you and you hear laughter in the background.

This is the moment where you must do your solo. Spin alone one more time and then let yourself fall. Your feet don't respond at first, you had forgotten your smile, very focused on moving your legs but when you manage to do it you falter again and collapse on the floor with a harder impact than the previous time. Now the music comes to a sudden stop.

You hear him sigh heavily, followed by the fluttering of the sheets of paper in his hand. Kurogawa, the director, puts his glasses on his head like a makeshift headband and slaps his hands once.

Immediately the whole room fills with noise, people start moving. Even your dance partner who although you don't see him, you feel him walking and moving away from you. You have a hard time getting up, this time you really have a hard time. Your body has been beaten to a pulp by the dozens of practices you have carried out these days, your dress and tights hide the bruises that have permeated the floor on them, you carry on your hips sukuna fingers by the force in which he has grabbed you, even so, you do not manage to perform the spin that should come out naturally.

You are a star, this is what you were born to do and this is what you have always done, why can't a dumb spin come out perfectly?

Kurogawa calls your name before you can move further away. You freeze in the middle of the stage, grateful to be away from the spotlight and more in the comfort of the gloom.

You sense his footsteps approaching, with each footstep his heels announce how close he is and your body trembles, your teeth chatter and you force yourself to be still.

"What's the matter?" His voice is neither far nor near.

"I don't..." you force your lip between your teeth before articulating your next words. You can't say you can't.

"I asked you a question." His body is behind you, stopping the draft that touched your back, serving as a wall that exudes warmth and insecurity.

His hand curls around your forearm with some force and makes you turn to see him, his violet eyes are naked, without the glasses he looks much younger, yet a couple of gray hairs escape from the improvised headband reminding you of the age difference.

Kurogawa examines you up and down, his eyes linger on your mouth for a moment and you think maybe he notices how dry they are, this prompts you to lick them suddenly.

"Do you want me to switch someone for you? There are dozens of girls who wish they were in your shoes."

"I know, sir." You bite your lip to control your emotions, and swallow the bitter bile rising up your esophagus.

His hand descends from your forearm to the width of your shoulder blades. "I don't think you appreciate it enough." This time he addresses you in a lower tone, he's hunched down to be at your height and the tone he uses would seem like he's telling a secret. His fingers run down the length of your back, you feel his fingers drag the fabric and linger on your lower back. "Is it Ryōmen? Is he the problem?" Then he pulls you closer to his body, this time there is no space between you, his leg is touching yours and his bittersweet breath, the taste of liquor mixed with wilted petals brushes your nose.

"I feel that we are not compatible, sir."

"Ah..." exclaims Kurogawa, still glued to you. "Are you implying that my best student isn't good enough for you?"

"I think..." he was too close for you to even think of anything. You try to see past his shoulders that steal all the light yet there is nothing but darkness, and the chill in your temples moves to your lower abdomen.

“Child... you're lucky your daddy paid a lot of money for you to be here, I don't think there's much talent in you.” Your mascara-filled lashes flutter like the wings of a swan. Your lips part to ask for space, but you're interrupted, he says your name and it's bitter, it sounds disgusting in his throat. “But the untalented ones, they can always do something else, can't they?”

Suddenly, someone calls your name again from the vast darkness behind you.

“Don't keep me waiting. You made me promise to take you home, brat.”

Kurogawa takes a moment to detach himself from you and you inhale in despair, you were drowning in his cheap cologne and alcohol stench. Sukuna is behind him, like a silhouette, you can barely make out his body.

You don't stop to look at the director when you step out of his reach, you don't even do it with Sukuna and run far away from there. The silence that settles in the corridor is terrifying, you feel like running to get away as fast as you can from there, however you try to keep your composure, you tighten the fabric of the tutu looking for some security and comfort in it breathing out of sync and when you manage to reach the street you have to lean back against one of the walls to regain your composure.

You force yourself to breathe through your nose and let it out through your mouth forming a cold mist. The icy breath of the night is a slap of reality that makes your cheeks tingle and your legs and arms are the first to complain about the change in temperature.

Sukuna appears at your side a few seconds later, he says nothing, so you force yourself to lift your head and check his expression. There are wrinkles in his brow and he has his hands tucked in his front pockets, you realize this is the first time you've seen him in casual clothes. He had had time to change out of his uniform to replace it with worn blue jeans and a black sweater that has blood red lettering embroidered on the chest.

His presence floods you with the same excitement as the first time you stepped off the plane and the change of weather made your body bristle, making you feel uncomfortable in your own skin. You were scared like a mouse forced out of its burrow. As at that moment, all you needed was a hug. A ghostly force grabs you by the hips and lifts you off the brick wall, throwing you into the arms of your dance partner in search of the comfort you can't seem to find anywhere else these past few days.

Sukuna tenses up at your boldness. You are sobbing into his chest as if someone has passed away. He stands still for a while, allowing your hands to barely touch his hip, while the few passersby watch the peculiar scene, wondering what has happened; after all you are still outside the prestigious ballet academy.

Against all odds, he puts his hand on your back in an unprofessional way, in a way he has never done even dancing with you. His arm floats in the air in a strange and awkward motion until he decides to rest it on your lower back, completely pulling you closer to him. His left arm goes to your shoulder blades squeezing you to his chest completely, giving you a strange comfort that doesn't quite reach friendly.

Excessive tears prevent you from breathing, so you fight the grip and prison that is his ribcage to look up and search his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Your knees give out on you, though with his help you stabilize again. “What was it he said to you?”

You sniffle through your nose. Those red eyes seem to watch every move you make and suddenly, the heat of realization of how close you are begins to climb up your ribs until it sits on your chest.

“Nothing.”

“I saw how close you were. Whatever he said or did to you...” Sukuna pauses, weighing what he will say next. You see him close his mouth and his jaw tenses. “You can trust me, I know there are rumors that he...”

“This is just an allergy,” you interrupt him by clearing your throat.

Sukuna laughs. Not only does he laugh, but he brushes you aside as he bursts out laughing holding his stomach. You cross your arms and pucker your lips, feeling the indignation immediately.

Without saying anything to him and with the wind freezing the salty tears on your cheeks, you turn to walk away from him infuriated with yourself that you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with someone like him.

“Brat!” he was still laughing. “Wait...” you hear him trot behind you, until his fingers pull your forearm back to force you to stop. “Your bag.”

When you notice what he's holding in his hands and had probably been carrying on his back, you realize that it was indeed your bag. You would have left it in the room along with your belongings in the locker had it not been for him.

“Thank you,” is all you say, still suspicious of his thoughtfulness.

“Are you hungry?”

“No.”

As if it were part of a comedy scene, your stomach growls and Sukuna has to cover his mouth to contain his laughter. You look at him accusingly again. When he removes his hand from his face and raises it in submission, he reveals a smile that shows his teeth and fangs, returning to the predatory aura that always surrounds him.

“I'm gonna order sushi to go, you can join me if you want.” The wind makes you hug yourself again, avoiding his eyes at all costs. “It's across the street.”

Ryōmen Sukuna has been a pain in the ass ever since you met him at dance school. Ever since you arrived, all he's done is annoy you: bad-mouth you to your classmates, be rude in your presence, and belittle your work when you were chosen as the principal dancer. Having him here, pretending to care about you and inviting you to dinner, throws you off.

Realizing that you cried into his chest and, worse, were comforted by his touch, makes you feel guilty.

“I don't need your fake kindness.”

Sukuna lets out a snort and mimics you, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down at you from above, like a superior being marking his position.

“It's just sushi. Don't act like I'm offering you an engagement ring. Just say no.”

“And that's what I said,” you reply with a bark, struggling to maintain your stance and what little courage you'd mustered to stand up to him.

You notice how Sukuna drops his arms and falls silent. Something inside you wants to continue arguing or just talk to someone. When you get “home”, you're just sitting on the bed staring at the ceiling, counting the times your room is illuminated by the lights of the cars passing by on the avenue or swiping on tiktok until you fall asleep.

You try to find an excuse to talk to him again, but you run out of ideas as you see him turn his back to you, checking the road up and down to make sure no vehicles are coming.

“Okay. I'll see you next week,” he says before crossing to the other side.

“Wait...” you call out to him, but Sukuna is about to reach the other sidewalk. He doesn't stop when you call out his name, even though you know he's listening. You step forward and shout again, a little louder this time. “Can you take me home?!”

Sukuna stops and turns slowly. You wish someone could wipe the ridiculous smile off his face and the incredulous expression he has right now. You instantly regret asking for his help.

You both wait patiently for the approaching cars to drive away in opposite directions, leaving you again in silence.

“What was that? I don't think I heard you,” Sukuna mutters, squinting his eyes and bending his body forward a bit.

You check both ends of the road before walking across and finding yourself face to face with him.

“I think I missed the bus,” you mumble hastily, a little embarrassed. “Please,” you add, doubting whether politeness will make any difference on this occasion. After all, you're dealing with Sukuna; you don't think being nice and kind will work with someone like him, so you opt to offer a bribe. “I'm going to pay you.”

“I don't need your money, brat,” he spits as soon as the words are out of your mouth, looking outraged when you look him in the face again.

“Can you stop calling me that?” Sukuna chuckles, clearly amused with a situation that you don't find funny at all. Your life is falling apart to pieces with every passing second, but to him it's a circus. “What's so funny?”

"Are you always so serious? It's a little annoying that you don't know how to take a joke; I wouldn't be surprised if you had no friends."

You want to slap him, even though you know it wouldn't make any difference. You've felt him behind you, leaning against your back, his firm hands holding your hips and helping your movements flow, so a slap on his shoulder would be in vain, it would only make him laugh.

Now you want to slap yourself regretting that you decided to talk to him in the first place, that you showed yourself vulnerable.

“Are you going to take me or not?” you insist.

“Give me your address.” Sukuna pulls his phone out of one of his front pockets and types as you give him the direction. Exactly three seconds later he exclaims, “Are you staying in a motel? I thought you had money.”

You don't know how much more you can take before you explode; you clench your fists some more, trying to contain your anger.

“I don't think that's really any of your business.”

You stand in silence for another while. He checks his phone while you watch him. The sign behind him above your heads is decorated with pink neon lines that flashes forming the name of the restaurant.

Sukuna sighs wearily, catching your attention. “Okay, join me in ordering something to go first.”

Sukuna doesn't wait for you to complain or agree with his proposal before he starts walking ahead of you, his steps slow and unhurried. You decide to follow him at a distance that gives the impression that you are not together.

With an open hand, Sukuna pushes open the transparent door and a bell announces the entrance of new customers. The place is immersed in an elegant and serene atmosphere; the aroma of rice floats freely in the air, filling your hungry stomach that growls for a mouthful of whatever they are cooking. Aside from three girls at the counter taking their orders, there are no customers other than the two of you.

You let Sukuna move on as you stop to admire the details of the place. The walls are painted in warm tones that emulate natural wood, and the ceiling has hanging paper lamps that create soft lighting.

The low murmur of water in a small koi pond in the center of the room catches your attention. You approach and watch the fish swimming freely in the water currents; you bend down to observe one in particular that appears to have a scar on one of its fins. You squint your eyes and move closer to the pond to check if the fish is okay, but at that moment the light of the restaurant is interrupted by the body weight of someone overshadowing it.

When you look up, you find Sukuna scowling at you. You don't understand what that look means and decide not to insist on deciphering it. You straighten up to try to match his height.

“Let's go.”

“So soon?” it seemed like they were waiting for him.

You watch his hands, holding a white paper bag with the restaurant's logo on the top. Then you notice the girls who seem to share a secret as they murmur, barely disguising that they are looking at you.

Sukuna continues to stare at you, so you decide not to say anything else and simply nod at his silent command. You make your way to the door and the bell rings again as you leave the place.

“Where's your car?”

You catch him grinning. Maybe you've said something he finds curious, or maybe he just wants to tease you because he can; being rude seems to come naturally to him after all. You let him lead the way and trace the way as he rummages for some keys in the back of his jeans, all the while heading towards the back of the restaurant.

Suspicious, you look around to make sure there is someone nearby who can help you if necessary. Amazement assaults you as you discover that in the back there is a parking lot, and there, in the middle of the empty spot, you see a bike. It's a shiny, black sportbike with red accents, sleek and modern looking.

The realization dries your throat.

“Is that yours?”

“Yup,” he looks amused and almost proud to actually own such a beautiful and imposing bike. You could taste the teasing tone in his voice and in the way he hurried his footsteps away from you, and you struggled to keep up with him.

Sukuna got on the bike and inserted the keys immediately, while you stood motionless, watching him hold it up with his feet so it wouldn't fall off.

“What are you waiting for?” He didn't have a helmet for himself, much less for you. He wasn't wearing gloves either, and that was perhaps the reason why his hands always felt rough when you had skin-to-skin contact when dancing.

You looked around you, meeting the vast nothingness again, as if you were asking the universe for help.

“I've never been on a bike,” you confessed to him without a filter.

You didn't know what to expect when you blurted that out, but it definitely wasn't Sukuna staring silently at you, stabbing you with those dagger-red eyes.

“So what, are you scared? C'mon, come on up.”

You sighed deeply in surrender and climbed up the bike trying to touch him as little as possible, but always failing on the spot. Sukuna jerked a little along with the bike as you tried to improve your posture behind him, trying to lower what you could of your tutu so it wouldn't fly off when he started driving.

Eagerly waiting for him to pull you away, you slide your hands down his hips and cling to his body in search of a safety that immediately greets you. The engine growls like a beast making your whole body vibrate, you cling tighter to him closing your eyes tight for a moment before letting out a sigh.

“Hold on tight,” he says, at the same time rolling his hand across the throttle.

You crinkle the fabric of his sweater under your fingers clinging to him as if your life depended on it. As he moves forward and picks up speed on the road, you hide your face in his back finding the same security as a few moments ago when you allowed yourself to sob into his chest.

The last thing you expected on a monotonous Thursday night was to end up like this, hugging Sukuna who is the last person you would ask for help, right after having the second worst day of your life. You allow yourself to relax in his presence now that you are not looking at him and now that your thoughts are overpowered by the sound of the wind against your ears.

You don't have time to elaborate any more nostalgic thoughts as Sukuna slows down and you are forced to return to the present, raising your head over his shoulder to check where you are. It was already completely dark when you arrive at the motel, and as you step into the gloom, you make out the dim lights flickering in the distance, indicating the other rooms that must be inhabited by people like you, with no settled place to go or belong.

“You can leave me here,” you indicate speaking slowly, longing for the moment when you can step onto solid ground again and return to the safe space that was your motel room, that even if it smelled like cheap detergent and the green apple spray you bought at the nearby gas station convenience store, you've managed to call home these past few months.

Sukuna obediently stops the bike near room 147 and allows you to get off, without asking questions or making conversation, which surprises you. Discomfort washes over you from your feet covered by ballerina slippers, up your cold legs until it reaches your chest.

“Thank you,” is all you say out of kindness. Instinctively you hug yourself, shrugging your shoulders toward your ears in search of some warmth.

Sukuna looks you up and down, and in his eyes you notice that spark of accusation or perhaps contempt, similar to the one you saw in your father the last time he visited you.

You wait for him to finally say something, after long seconds that feel endless, but you interrupt him before he gets the chance.

“I'm quitting.” You don't know why you say that, your body expels it as an automatic reaction, similar to vomiting after a hangover.

You immediately regret it and turn away. Little interested in what he might say next, you hasten your steps to run away from him and hide in your shelter as soon as possible.

“I thought it was allergies.” Bastard. You grind your teeth, clenching your fists. You don't have the energy to fight him; what little of the mask you put on to pretend you're the perfect woman will soon unravel like Cinderella's spell, and you don't want that to happen while you're arguing with him.

“I thought you were a tough girl.” You hear him yell again, as you try to pretend he doesn't exist. You turn left, in the direction of your room, the last one in the whole row.

“I can help.” Those words slow your steps to a complete stop. It takes you a moment to find the courage to turn around, but you finally do, taking a breath of air and looking him straight in the eye.

The distance between you is about the size of a bus, not much, but enough to look like a pair of cowboys about to have a duel and so that anyone listening can pick up on your discussion thanks to the silence of the night.

“Help with what?” you ask, defiantly.

Sukuna looks up at the sky for a moment, as if the answer is in the clouds. Without looking at you, he replies, “To be less of a dick, maybe.” Asshole. “To teach you how to relax once you're under the lights.”

You fold your arms. “If...?”

He grins, clearly amused with how much he's enjoying the situation, and you want to shout into the wind how much you hate him. Now you understand why he doesn't like you; your personalities are very different. You like the summer, he probably likes the cold. He's always teasing and getting under your skin, while you have to constantly fight not to break. You are polar opposites of different worlds.

“If you help me with something.”

“With what exactly?” you ask almost instantly.

“It's just a favor,” he replies with a shrug.

“What kind of favor?” you insist.

“It's not that kind of favor,” he says with a gesture of annoyance.

“What's in it for you?”

“Can't I help a partner?”

You're tired of playing this game. It's clearly draining your time and energy. You appreciate that he brought you home and behaved with the slightest decency you would expect from an empathetic human being seeing someone cry, but you've had enough. You turn to leave, feeling it's not worth wasting any more time on this. You plan to sleep thinking about your decision and send a letter to the director tomorrow morning. With what little money you have left, you hope to travel back to your home country.

“I need help with my grandfather.” It's as if Sukuna drops a hook that your innocence fishes for. You're not sure what he's referring to, but your curiosity compels you to turn once more and face him. This time, you close the distance with each new unsure step.

Watching you walk towards him, Sukuna continues. “Monthly he sends fish to Yokohama. The guy who was helping me quit a few months ago, so I've had to do it alone, which is a pain in the ass,” he runs a hand through his tousled hair from the trip, seemingly remembering.

“Why me?”

“Don't think you're special,” he grumbles with a growl, reflecting on what he just said, he adds. “What I mean is, it's a favor for a favor. I'll tutor you on how to improve as a dancer, and you help me with the fish. It's a win-win.”

You hate the idea of training alone with him almost as much as working moving fish, or whatever it is you're going to do, but...that was the only choice you had. It was either this or actually quit and go home empty-handed, face your failure and your father, and break the promise you had made to your mother before she died. Besides, with Sukuna as a sort of watchdog working with you you think maybe Kugawara wouldn't bother you again, though the thought of it happening again makes your skin crawl.

You nod finally, averting your gaze to your feet for a moment. “Okay. When do we start?”

“Tomorrow I'll come by and pick you up around 3:30. We'll do the fish delivery and then we can practice.”

“Okay.”

“Be on time 'cause I hate waiting,” he snorts.

Maybe working with Sukuna wasn't such a bad idea after all. You spend all day cooped up in that old motel room, watching the cars go by and waiting for the time and days when you have to go train again. It's boring to be stuck in there doing nothing but waiting for the days to pass, so the idea of visiting another city, seeing new places and maybe discovering more about who Ryōmen Sukuna was seems appealing to you; you can't deny it.

There's so much mystery surrounding him that you can't help but be drawn in.

Fri. 4/14 • 5:50PM —

You mentally cross out what you thought the night before and wish yesterday's version of you had thought more or at least asked more questions before blindly agreeing. Working with Sukuna was terrible, much worse than you imagined before you fell asleep. You hated the fishy smell permeating your clothes, rather, clothes you borrowed from Sukuna belonging to the boy who quit earlier. The uniform was baggy and threadbare: the faded blue T-shirt had sweat stains and stale smell, while the pants are baggy, a bit long and a dull gray color, with a loose belt to adjust the size.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand after putting the last box of fish in the restaurant's freezer and being thankful to be done with everything for the day. You restrain yourself from complaining to Sukuna for not making it clear to you exactly what work you would be doing because after all it had been your fault for not asking and trusting unquestioningly. As you bite the inside of your cheek to control your tongue, you realize that inside the colors and patterns are the same as the sushi restaurant across the street from the academy, which makes you think they are probably from the same brand.

Outside, the clear Yokohama sky shows a bright sun toasting your cheeks as Sukuna finishes signing papers behind you. The change of season has the weather undecided, on the verge of leaving winter behind; some spring mornings are warm and the nights, cold.

His shoes clack against the pavement as he approaches you. With a light tap on your forearm, you hear him chuckle, following it up with, “Who knew? I didn't know you could carry so much weight.”

He doesn't wait for your response and continues on his way to the white truck. With your eyes narrowed and your feet begging you for a break, you walk to the waiting, lit truck and slam the door shut. Being in the cold air, with your sore feet now stretched out should feel more comforting. You're protected from the sun's rays and its warmth, and the spicy apple air freshener is pleasant enough to make you forget that it's spring. However, the situation is not entirely delightful for you.

Sukuna next to you seems immune to the silence that you find so uncomfortable. You take a quick glance at him and find him staring down the road as he drives back to town. He has one hand curled around the steering wheel and the other resting on his leg. His uniform is different from yours; his consists of an impeccable white shirt and blue pants tailored to fit him navy blue, on the left side at chest height he has the restaurant's name written on it.

Now that his shirt sleeves are rolled up, you can make out the tattoos on his wrist: two thick black rings run along his skin. Being so close to him and noticing the black ink permeating the skin makes you wonder if they hurt him much. The thought that he probably has more tattoos on areas of his body that you can't see thanks to the clothing comes into your head, but you'd rather push that image away and look straight ahead.

Traffic is moving slowly, with seas of vehicles coming and going on a dual carriageway Sukuna has to slow down every so often because the cars stop which makes you understand that you will be stuck here for a while. Bored with the silence and not wanting to be the first to speak, you take the liberty of turning on the radio, jumping from station to station before finding one that plays old romantic music.

Sukuna makes a snorting sound, prompting you to look directly at him. When your gazes meet, you'd rather ignore the feeling in your stomach and the cocked grimace you manage to notice on his lips before he undoes it.

“What?” you ask him, surprised that your tone doesn't sound as dismissive as usual. “I can find another station if...”

“It's my grandfather's favorite,” he confesses to you quietly. “That one's fine.”

Your fingers slowly move away from the radio, processing what he's confessed to you and considering that this might be a window into getting to know him better.

“You said you were helping him — is this his business?”

Sukuna hums as if weighing the words, tapping the steering wheel a couple of times. “Yes.”

You blink slowly. “Do you guys have a lot of time in the market?”

“Yes,” he repeats again and you fill your lungs with the smell of spicy apple and his subtle cologne.

You resign yourself to having a monosyllabic conversation with him so you press your lips together and rest your chin on your hand looking out the window. From where you are, you can admire the horizon and the still blue water being illuminated by the intimate rays of afternoon sun. Seagulls circle the shore and you imagine their deep song filling the bay.

“I can't remember the last time I went to the beach.” You wanted to dip your feet in the water, let the waves massage them from side to side, feel the sand between your toes and the sun warming your skin—

“Honestly, me neither. Since I've been working with fish, the beach seems less exciting to me, I don't know if that makes sense.”

You look at him, did you just say that out loud? Sukuna watches you briefly before turning his eyes back to the road. You contemplate him longer than you need to before looking straight ahead again and watching the traffic move a little faster than before.

“Have you guys always worked with this?” you perk up to ask again, still keeping your gaze straight ahead.

“Seafood?” he seems to think, humming aloud. “The restaurant has been in the family for as long as I can remember. So...yeah.”

“That's strange. I never would have imagined you doing this kind of work.”

“Why?” he chuckles, as if sharing a secret with himself.

“You're so good at dancing,” you admit, giving him a fleeting glance. “I didn't think you do anything more than that.”

“The best,” he instantly corrects you and you physically force yourself not to roll your eyes.

“I thought you were a spoiled rich kid.”

You turn to catch him grimacing in annoyance. Clearly, he was conflicted about what you had just said.

“I like to dance, but I've always worked hard since I was little. Everything I know and everything I do I learned from my grandfather.”

“It's just the two of you?”

You notice him frowning and speed up quickly before the light turns red. His lips open, but before he can respond, he stops the truck abruptly causing the boxes in the back to rampage and crash into each other as Sukuna shouts insults at the bicyclist who sped in front of him.

You admire him for a while longer: pursed lips, furrowed brow and hands tense around the wheel. Then, you turn your gaze ahead to catch the cyclist fleeing in front of you at full speed, now barely a distinguishable silhouette. Wasting no time, Sukuna sets off down the road again as you wonder what it was he was going to answer. Now, curiosity towards him beckons you that much more.

As Sukuna turns at an intersection to return to Tokyo, you mentally review the information you have about him:

He really loves his grandfather, of that you are left in no doubt since he is the person he mentions the most, he is the only person he talks about in fact. Also, does he cook? You make a mental note of that with a question mark next to it because you're not sure if he just drives the truck or if he really knows how to cook. Third and probably most important, he's not as bad a person as you thought he was. Yes, you still feel like fighting with him and contradicting him at the slightest argument, but that's because of resentment built up over the months. If you were meeting him today for the first time or even if you actually worked for him, you would be encouraged to recognize him as introverted at best, which makes you wonder if the person you see in the academy is just part of the show. Could this be his true personality? And what else is hidden underneath the mask?

The rest of the trip passes in silence as you immerse yourself in your thoughts and theories. The radio station gradually changes from romantic music to more danceable current pop songs, causing you to hum all the way and move your body gently to the melody.

“Are you too tired?” asks Sukuna, once you are on the main road into town.

“Yeah. Why?” you grumble with a grunt, stretching your arms above your head and swinging your feet in circles.

He nods, pondering. “I'll take you to the motel then. We can train later.”

“Oh, no. I'm ready to start today.”

Suddenly, you don't feel so tired when it comes to dancing. You don't want to wait any longer to start practicing and improving, and the truth is, the longer you go without improving, the faster the day of the final presentation comes.

Sukuna pulls into the parking lot of a tall building, moving inside the place illuminated by white lights until he comes to a complete stop next to the bike that you instantly recognize as his.

You get off the truck first with your bag slung over your shoulder, shake your feet again and perform brief stretches as you wait for Sukuna who passes by you walking certainty towards the elevator; you follow him like his shadow.

“You live here?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I thought we were going to train,” you say, wondering if his apartment will have enough space.

“We will.”

“But...”

“Have you been told you ask too many questions?”

You fall silent as you stand inside the elevator and he presses a button that immediately turns gold, the elevator jolts smoothly and begins to slowly travel through each floor until it reaches number ten. The doors open along with a soft chime, and Sukuna is the first to step out guiding you to his floor.

The apartment complex is modern and elegant. The walls are adorned with dark wood paneling and a floor made of synthetic fur. Sukuna walks confidently down the hallway and you follow him noting the numbered doors with sleek steel plates. When you reach the door to his apartment, he takes his keys out of his pocket and inserts them into the lock opening the door with a quiet click.

He invites you in first with a nod and as you do so you find a well-decorated and tidy space, perhaps somewhat different from what you had imagined. The polished wood floor is covered by a neutral-toned carpet; the room has contemporary furniture and a wall adorned with framed photographs.

You discreetly observe your surroundings, longing to linger a little longer observing the photographs on the wall and get to know his family, however Sukuna keeps moving in front of you without giving you time to get a chance to do so.

“I knew you were a rich kid...”

He chuckles softly. “Come.” Sukuna guides you into a hallway and stops in front of a wooden door. “Shower,” he instructs you as he sees your confusion, struggling not to flash another one of those smiles you'd grown accustomed to. “You stink of fish. Get changed, I'll be waiting for you on the terrace.”

A bitter resistance dies on your tongue. The lingering smell of raw fish clings to your clothes like an unwanted shadow. You decide not to protest that just this once he is right and instead turn your back on him, clinging to your bag as you walk into the bathroom.

You decide to take a quick shower using the first liquid soap you find on top of the sink, scrubbing your body with your hands and quickly wetting your hair to freshen it up a bit, making a note to wash it properly when you get to the motel.

When you're done, you emerge from the bathroom in one of your practice outfits that fits snugly to your body for flexibility. You tie your hair up in a high bun so it won't bother you and head with determination towards the terrace where Sukuna was waiting for you.

The sunset tints the sky with reddish hues, creating a celestial spectacle among the clouds. The terrace is decorated with potted green plants and comfortable armchairs with cushions piled at the back, leaving enough space to move around without bumping into furniture.

Dim lights hang from the ceiling, subtly illuminating the space. And in the background, soft instrumental music plays, similar to what the academy plays. Sukuna is sitting stretching his legs out on the floor in a V-shape, and with a barely perceptible gesture of his lips, he invites you to join him and imitate his movements. He bends his body gracefully and at will, and you do your best to keep up as good as you can.

Then, he stands gracefully and offers you his hand, drawing you to his chest.

“Your problem is that you don't trust me. You don't trust that I'm going to hold you when you jump...” You're ready to respond, but your lips seal when he continues. “So we need to fix that.”

The way he says it makes you shudder; you don't want to give in, but you know you have no choice now.

To the beat of the music, Sukuna wraps his hand around your waist and you mimic his steps— circles, one... two... until he stops and asks you to jump, but you hesitate, visibly trembling in his arms.

“Trust me,” he asks you with a serene exhale.

“I can't,” you reply, wetting your dry lips. Sukuna follows each stroke of your tongue before returning to your eyes, where the lashes fuss uneasily.

“You have to trust me as much as I trust you.”

Yet inside you, feelings of doubt and fear linger, like foolish specters whispering in your ear. You feel overwhelmed, not only by the pressure and responsibility on your back but by the closeness of your bodies, there is no space between your chests and if he leans in a little closer you could taste his breath.

“I can't,” you stammer, pulling away from him. “I think it was a bad idea to come,” you admit truthfully, letting your worries slip out loud.

Without you moving further away, his hands hold your wrist firmly making you spin around, and your tiptoed feet respond at once. He holds you still close to him, your back pressed against his chest rocking to the rhythm of the instruments.

“Jump.” Your heart races and you decide to close your eyes to concentrate on the drums pounding against your ribs, on the breath tangling in your lungs. His hands move up and down your waist, go to your ribs where he feels your heaving breath expand his palms. “Take a deep breath,” he speaks sweetly, his breath brushing the shell of your ear. “I'm not going to let you fall this time. I swear.”

You take a deep breath processing the words. could you really trust his promise? You feel his hands come back down to your waist and with the help of his hands exerting pressure, you jump up and he gracefully lifts you above his head. For an instant, you contemplate the city stretching out beneath your feet, like a blanket of light and shadow. Your arms spread like wings, and a spontaneous laugh escapes your lips as the wind caresses your skin. Gently, Sukuna lowers you to the ground once again and you watch a proud smile form on his face.

Together, the two of you capture the sunset from the terrace, sharing that ephemeral moment in silent complicity.

When you finish practicing about three more times, you find yourself lying on the ground, breathing shakily as you watch the sky dotted with bright spots. Sukuna has disappeared inside his apartment, turning on the lights and returning with a bottle of water that he kindly offers you.

“Thank you,” you say, immediately popping the bottle into your mouth.

“You're not too bad,” Sukuna comments with his usual calmness, though beads of sweat on his forehead betray his exertion. It's obvious why he's Kurogawa's top student.

“I really mean it. Thank you.”

Sukuna averts his gaze for a moment before turning back to you. “Are you going to stay for dinner?” he asks instead.

“I'm fine...,” you reply, finally getting up from the floor and dusting off your clothes with your hands.

“I hope you're eating something better than soda and canned food at that stinky motel.”

You both share a knowing chuckle, your gazes intertwined for a moment.

“No promises,” you say, raising your hands to chest level. “But I have to go now. Thanks for everything, again,” you add, taking another long drink of water.

“Do you need a ride?” offers Sukuna.

“I'll get an uber.”

Sukuna nods, walking you to the door where he waves you off with a friendly smile.

What the hell was that all about? And why are you about to throw up your heart?

Sat. 4/14 • 6:32 pm —

The second week training with Sukuna has been a revelation. You've gotten used to the smell of fish that you now find less unbearable, to getting up early before the alarm goes off, and you've even gotten used to the horrible oversized uniform you have to wear, but above all, you've gotten used to Sukuna's presence and his training sessions that bring you closer and closer together. Of course, you have improved remarkably. Sukuna is a born teacher and could surpass Kurogawa when he decides to retire. He knows just what to say to make you feel comfortable in your own skin and relax in his arms, which he has succeeded in doing.

As you get to know him better, you realize that he is not the image you had created in your head. He is considerate and has managed to get you to open up to him a little more, tearing down the shell of animosity you had raised. Before, you were fighting a non-existent battle against him, a fight to be the best that now you only keep against yourself.

With the descent of disdain for him came something more.... Appreciation? Admiration, perhaps? You don't want to acknowledge what that emotion is. For now, you cling to the idea that you can be friends, that you could become good friends in time.

With the practices and the unofficial ones you do with your dance partner, your steps become more natural, loose and fluid. Soon, your movements will resemble those of the fantastic swan you are meant to emulate.

Sukuna spins you around with the climax of the violins resounding above you. Thanks to constant practice on his terrace he manages to lift you into the air with ease, getting you for the first time to not hesitate and leap gracefully into his arms which gets you a round of applause from your colleagues, drawing a proud smile on your face. Your chest is pounding, you feel the excitement in the darkness of the theater and, in a far corner, you can glimpse the ghost of your mother clapping proudly. You were really going to make it.

Sukuna helps you touch the floor once more, and because of the intimacy required for the final scene, your faces are inches apart. The sound of muffled applause, the circular spotlight that focuses on you exclusively, and the scent of his cologne (a subtle blend of woody and citrus notes that awakens your senses), make the moment far more intimate than the scene requires.

Unsure if this is still part of the performance, Sukuna brushes the tip of his nose against yours before finally pulling away, leaving you drifting beside him and depriving you of his body heat. Slow clapping comes from the background in the gloom, and you walk away from Sukuna taking long strides as if you've been caught committing a crime, your hands sweaty and your stomach clenched.

“That was much better,” Kurogawa says, praising you both, though he looks directly at you. “A wonderful presentation.”

“Thank you,” Sukuna replies, and you feel him tense beside you as he holds the director's gaze that's still resting on you like a predator.

“Though you still have a lot of room for improvement,” Kurogawa says, looking straight at you. Your lips tighten into a straight line, feeling some disappointment in your chest.

“I think she's doing very well,” Sukuna interjects, looking Kurogawa up and down before exhaling like a raging bull.

Kurogawa watches Sukuna and then clicks his tongue.

“Ryōmen, can you remind me who the director of the ballet is and who is recognized as the best male category ballet dancer in the entire country?” Sukuna falls silent, and you are unable to ignore his clenched jaw. “Sorry, I didn't hear you.”

Sukuna exhales and replies sarcastically. “You are, sir.”

“That's what I thought,” he replies, savoring the victory, still keeping his eyes on you. “So when I say something needs to get better, it's because it's going to get better. You can all go..., my little swan, you stay a few minutes with me, we need to talk.”

Sukuna's eyes are pulled from the director to fall on you. Under the spotlight you notice his red eyes become darker, dark ink spills into them and at the same time his half closed eyelids give him the aura of a feline. You nod, assuring him wordlessly that you will be fine.

The room gradually becomes empty, you are the only ones present. Kurogawa tucks himself back into the darkness while you stand under the burning light of the spotlight that seems to glow now brighter than ever. Suddenly, the sound of the piano climbs the walls again and makes your skin tingle.

“Again,” he orders you.

Immediately you put your back straight facing the theater seats. Your feet automatically tiptoe, your arms move in the air, move up your body and stop above your head. Your movements are much more fluid and you can feel it; you are more flexible than before or maybe you always have been and all you needed was a little push. A vote of confidence.

The thought that you will have your little ritual with Sukuna tomorrow (he cooks for you after you help him deliver the fish and after your practice), puts a smile on your face and helps you relax, ignoring the presence of Kurogawa who follows you with his sharp eyes every time you move.

The clacking of his shoe heels tells you he's getting closer, and a subtle sense of dread comes over you as you wonder what Kurogawa might be thinking or planning.

“Are you two dating?” He asks suddenly, wrapping his hands around you behind your back in imitation of the role Sukuna plays.

"I don't have to justify my personal life, sir." Your reply is quick and sharp, cutting through the awkward tension.

He laughs dryly. “Because that would be a problem. I wouldn't allow my lead dancers to have an affair, that would be problematic.” He steps closer to you undoing the space between you and grabs your waist from behind, you instantly pull away looking at him with your eyebrows together. “Hold still.” He steps closer again, you take another step back, about to be engulfed by the darkness.

“Sir...”

He pauses under the spotlight, his few gray hairs and greasy locks gleaming in the direct brightness. The light highlights the deep lines of his face, accentuating his intense, commanding expression. His piercing gaze seems to cut through you as he calls out your name.

“Come here. Let me show you what you're doing wrong,” Kurogawa says in a tone that combines authority and criticism.

“I think I'm doing a good job,” you insist, trying to maintain your composure.

“Oh, you think Ryōmen is a better teacher than I am? He's been putting ideas into your head?” he asks wryly.

“I mean no disrespect, but...” you start to say, but you're interrupted.

“Girl,” he says with disdain, “Come here.”

“No,” you reply firmly, burying your feet on the stage.

The director smiles mischievously. “The cat is showing her claws, I see,” he mutters. “You know he's no good for you?” he continues. “So if you're sentimentally involved...I'm afraid I'll have to degrade you both from being the lead dancers.”

You sense that his threats make you feel lightheaded. “You wouldn't do that,” you say with a hint of desperation.

“Be a good girl then.”

“We'll present in exactly two weeks, no one can take my place,” you defend yourself, looking for an excuse that will convince you more than him that he can't do this.

“Mei-Ling is ready. We've been... practicing,” he says with a lopsided grin that makes you cringe.

“You're disgusting,” you reproach him, unable to keep pretending that standing here in front of him listening to his innuendos doesn't have your body chilling.

“You have no idea,” Kurogawa replies, widening a mischievous smile. “Now...”

He approaches you with clear intentions of touching you, you look around for something you can defend yourself with or someone who can come to your aid but the room was empty, there was only you there. You keep shuffling your feet until you run into the wall, until the darkness has covered you both and all you can see is his macabre smile.

Kurogawa reaches out to grab you when Sukuna's voice startles you. He says your name for the first time and you look over the director's shoulder to see him on the other end in casual gray joggers and a white t-shirt. “Is everything okay?” he asks looking directly into your eyes and for a moment it's just the two of you.

Your voice breaks and you can't answer him, but your desperate look tells him everything he needs to know.

“This is private training, Ryōmen. You may leave now.”

Still he pays no heed. He advances towards you with the bag where he kept his clothes hanging from his left shoulder, sukuna stops and plants himself next to you; his arms embrace your shoulders and he sticks you to his body. “Do you wanna leave?” He asks, looking up at you directly.

“Yes.” You reply without hesitation or pausing to look at the director.

“Ow look at that? Isn't that romantic?” he laughs dryly, clapping his hands together sarcastically. “Long live lovers, right? From hate to love is only one step, I guess.”

Sukuna ignores Kurogawa's words, removing his hand from your shoulders to take yours and lead you away. Surprise flashes across your face, but his warm grip turns the initial coldness into a comforting sensation, making your heart race in your chest. You don't resist and squeeze his fingers tightly as you pull away.

The man laughs louder again, turning to look at you just as you reach the small stairs that would lead you off the stage. “Don't even bother coming back, you're fired,” he shouts arrogantly.

You search Sukuna's eyes to make sure he's feeling the same fear you are. For a moment, doubt crosses your eyes and you consider turning around and apologizing as the only option in this situation. But Sukuna avoids your gaze, releasing your hand to address the director.

“If you have something to say, say it now,” Kurogawa spits with a triumphant smile on his face.

Sukuna climbs the stairs again, leaving you paralyzed in the middle of the steps. His movements seem more imposing under the contrasting lights, and as he approaches the principal, you can see Kurogawa's smile widen in pleasure.

Sukuna takes a deep breath, running a hand through his pink hair to pull it back before turning and connecting a closed fist against the director's jaw. Kurogawa falls to the ground, coughing and wiping blood from a split lip. There is hatred and resentment in his eyes as the two men stare at each other for a moment, right before Kurogawa spits out blood mixed with saliva that was pooled in his mouth.

In that moment of tense silence, you stand watching in horror, both hands covering your mouth. Sukuna spits towards the ground and then turns away, wiping his hand and knuckles. He walks past you and with a hand on your lower back, guides you out of there.

“Let's get the hell out of here,” Sukuna mutters.

“Are we just...?” you try to say, but Sukuna interrupts you.

“Are you okay?” he asks with concern. You nod, unable to say much more. “That's all I care about,” Sukuna concludes as you walk away from the place.

You didn't want to go back to the motel. With your dreams crushed so easily in front of you, the last thing you want is to be alone with your self-destructive thoughts and a judgmental memory. The director always seemed a little strange to you and now you tag the way he approaches you as unprofessional but you never thought he could go to the extreme of cornering you like that; however, seeing him lying on the floor, bleeding, brings accusatory thoughts into your head that you want to erase. Your memories betray you showing you more blood than there really was. In his eyes was written pure revenge, you knew that with his influence only one mail was enough to destroy both your career and your life. You don't want to think about the consequences of your actions; at least not tonight, not now. So when Sukuna asks where you want to go and you reply that you don't know, he decides to take matters into his own hands and take you on a bike ride around the city. Neither says anything else and you ask no questions, letting the vibrations of the engine and his body under your fingers make you feel safe.

Your cheek is crushed against his broad back, clinging to his waist as much as you can as you watch the lights of the city and its tall buildings go by like flashes. People come and go and your heart sinks a little in your chest each time Sukuna's fingers roll easily across the throttle. Water pools in your heavy eyelashes and you can't decide if it's from the wind or if it's just sadness and the pile of bitter disappointment you force yourself to swallow.

Sukuna stops at a gas station, you wait leaning against the bike while he pays and buys some sweets that he silently passes to you as an offering. You open the colorful wrapper and pop the chocolate into your mouth, chewing silently as you are distracted by the dust clinging to his boots.

“Do you wanna go to my place?” The question surprises you and his voice invites you to look at him, back to the present. You notice his face and are distracted by the soft pout that forms his lips unconsciously. In the short time you've known each other, you've noticed it's something he does often. A habit.

You assume that you are friends now. You find the situation and the question ironic. If an oracle had told you about eight months ago that you'd be taking bike rides with Sukuna, clinging to his back like a baby koala bear, driving with him every day out of town while jamming karaoke in his fish-smelling truck and hanging out at his apartment, you'd never have believed it.

Finally, you shake your head in affirmation, taking another bite of the bar.

“I hate that motel,” you confess, covering your mouth.

“I know. It smells like a shoe, I don't know how you can live there.”

You regret letting him into your humble room. Everything was tidy and perfectly sprayed with that green apple spray you depend on so much now, but you still saw him pinching his nose with two fingers and commenting on the stench. You'd complained before, of course, and the owner told you he'd move you to another room as soon as it became available, but now that was the only one you could be in; the room is at the back, next to the laundry room and the damp lurks through the walls, ending up sitting in the middle of your floor.

“Hey!” It really did smell awful, but it wasn't funny when others made fun of it. “It's all I can afford for now. Sorry I'm not rich like you.”

“I thought you were rich,�� he says, playing with his bruised knuckles as the numbers on the screen behind him keep going up.

“Not anymore,” you confess, distant memories of your life coming back to you in a flash. “My father refuses to help me with academy expenses, he sees it as a waste of money and time, and I guess he's right. I only have enough to live for two more months there, I was looking forward to the ballet performance but now…” Your voice trails off, unable to finish the sentence.

You notice how he leans over to gently tap you on the shoulder with the same hand that punched Kurogawa earlier.

“We're going to fix it, brat. No long faces while I'm around.”

You contemplate him a while longer in silence as you finish eating the chocolate bar and clench the wrapper in your fist to throw it in the trash when you're at his apartment. Once the tank is full, you roll back down the road and seven minutes later you are in the warmth of his apartment.

You take off your shoes as you enter and head straight to the living room after Sukuna asks you to sit down and he goes straight to the kitchen. You take the opportunity to look at the various photographs on the bluish wall that you have always wanted to see up close but he has never let you: a small Sukuna clutching a baseball bat smiles at the camera, his hair tousled as if it's been a windy day, and his hands tightly wrapped around the bat. There's another where he's with who you assume is his grandfather in front of the restaurant near the academy, clutching a fish that's bigger than both of them which makes you chuckle under your breath. In the last one, there's him and another boy who looks very like him, both wearing thick coats with faux fur edges and looking at the camera with surprised expressions.

“Your brother?” you ask as you hear his bare feet moving across the floor and, turning to face him, you find him with two plates full of sushi rolls in his hands. “Thank you,” you smile at him, sliding onto the couch.

“Be careful not to drip the sauce on my couch, brat,” he jokes. You want to complain about the not-so-pleasant name he calls you by, but you keep silent, hiding the sense of longing that overwhelms you as you want to hear him say your name again. “And my nephew,” he quickly points to the picture before disappearing back into the kitchen. “It was the first time we went to New York.”

You take another quick glance at the picture and grab the wooden chopsticks next to your plate.

“Nephew... So you have siblings?” You ponder, pinching a sushi roll between your chopsticks and bringing it to your mouth, careful at all times not to drop anything on the couch. For how neat the place looks, you know he's not kidding when he warns you that he doesn't want any stains on his couch.

Sukuna returns with a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands, as he carefully sets them on the coffee table.

“I'm not going to drink,” you quickly excuse yourself.

“Come on, let's celebrate that we don't have practice tomorrow.”

His humor helps you cope a little. You press your lips together in a straight line that gradually turns into a sad smile and finally nod, giving your permission for him to pour the white wine for both of you. You grab the glass without further thought and take a long drink, closing your eyes for a moment.

“And... um,” he clears his throat, taking a seat next to you to get ready to eat as well. “I had a brother. I lost him and my parents in an accident when they were on their way from Kyoto to see me dance last year.”

The news makes you frown and you set the cup aside immediately, showing your concern. Sukuna seems immune; anyone who didn't know him would say he's over it, that he doesn't care, but you've learned to see past the mask he usually shows himself to others with. Hesitantly, you put your hand on his leg in comfort and something inside you waits for him to push it away, only it never happens. He looks down at your touch for a moment before returning to your eyes.

“I'm so sorry.”

His shoulders shrug and he finally relaxes. “At least I have my grandfather for now.”

You nod, understanding how bitter the situation is as it's easy to put yourself in his shoes.

“I'm really sorry. I lost my mother too; she had a medical condition that had no cure. Her dream was always to see me dance at a professional academy.”

“Is that why you traveled to Japan?” asks Sukuna before popping a sushi roll into his mouth.

“Yeah. But I guess it doesn't matter now.”

“I told you we're going to fix it,” Sukuna says and now it is him placing his hand on your thigh intimately. You watch as his fingers spread over your skin, noticing the veins running down the back of his hand and the thick tattoos surrounding his skin.

“You punched him in the face,” you look away from his fingers to force yourself to look him in the eyes, both of you sharing a brief chuckle. “How can we fix this?”

Sukuna is no longer touching you and his absence is immediately felt.

“We can report him,” he suggests.

“They won't listen to us,” you reply.

“Not with that attitude.”

You look away from him for a moment, toward your plate and the half-empty cup. You grab it and raise it to your mouth to wet your throat.

“Thank you... for everything,” you say sincerely, swirling the glass so that the liquid spirals against the glass.

“I should never have left you alone,” Sukuna admits.

“But you came back for me. That's the important thing,” you reply, restraining yourself from touching him again. Instead, you take a last sip of wine that serves to drown out thoughts of what would have happened if no one had arrived in time.

With banal conversations filling the space from time to time and laughter over jokes that aren't even that funny; you both finish eating.

With two glasses of wine drunk and now Sukuna pouring a third everything seems funnier than usual. The sting of the pain of having lost everything you've built is buried there waiting to make you ache and although you know Sukuna feels it too, he manages to disguise it very well, spending all his energies on making your night.

“Stop it,” you tell him with a laugh, squinting to fix your eyes closely on his face. “You've got something there.” You point to a part of your own cheek with a finger, smoothing the skin and wiggling your fingers for him to do the same.

“Where?” he asks, pulling his eyebrows together, touching the wrong part of his face.

“Look, here!” you point to your cheek again with more emphasis, but he still misses.

“Wipe it off for me. What is it?”

“It's just soy sauce, you messed it up more.”

You lean a little closer to wipe the sauce stain next to his nose, carefully rubbing the skin by moving your thumb over it until it's clean. You smile at him, you just need to wash your face now, as you turn your attention back to him you realize he is blatantly looking at your lips.

“Later,” he says softly, licking his lips slowly and alarms go off in your brain.

“It'll get sticky if you don't go,” you reply mimicking his tone, struggling not to notice his mouth and how close you are.

Sukuna slowly makes himself move his gaze from your mouth to your eyes. Still close, you can notice the alcohol on his breath, his scent of cologne tickling your stomach.

“I never understood why you disliked me so much,” he blurts out suddenly, almost in a whisper.

“Are you serious?” you pull away before you do something you shouldn't, the tingling sensation of alcohol probably making you see things that aren't there. “Everything you talked about me?” He arches an eyebrow, showing confusion. “You were saying I should go back to my country...”

“Yeah, because you were saying I had no talent. And who did you think you were?” he defends himself, getting defensive. With that expression that he instantly erases almost makes you remember the Sukuna from the past.

“I never said that.” You defend yourself.

Silently, you both let the weight of realization sink in, sharing a silent stare.

“Kurogawa.” You respond in unison.

“Fuck him,” Sukuna says through gritted teeth. You want to reproach him, but honestly?

“Yeah, fuck him.” Then you both laugh.

Silence reigns between you again, squeezing like an intruder between the little space that separates your bodies on the couch.

“Are you staying the night?” Sukuna suddenly blurts out, giving you a sideways glance.

“Um, no?” That makes him look at you completely, analyzing you as if you've just said something barbaric.

“I can't ride like this,” he comments with obviousness.

“That's fine, I'll get an uber.”

“I don't trust an uber to send you like that.”

You don't trust yourself around him, you don't trust what your numb senses can do or say, so the farther away you are from him, the better it is for both of you.

“Like what? I'm almost sober,” you say, squeezing a space with your index finger and thumb leaving a small gap in between. “Besides... I know how to defend myself.” To reaffirm your sentence and validate your sobriety, you stand up to take a brief turn but fate is ironic and trips you over your own feet; in an instant your mouth is about to kiss the ground. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut, preparing to receive a stinging pain that never comes, instead, you are welcomed into an embrace that fills you with security.

“Fuck. You're so drunk,” Sukuna says with a laugh, helping you to your feet.

You open one eye. “Sorry, I don't usually drink.” You close it again, massaging with your fingers the sudden dizziness that squeezes your temples. “Maybe I am a little dizzy.”

“I can tell that,” he says. “You should have told me.”

“Um, I did.” You open your eyes now realizing how intimate you are. Your open palms on his chest rise and fall with his agitated exhale and the tension weighs heavy. His hands are on your lower back in a sort of embrace that holds you close to him and keeps you from running away, and you wouldn't even if you could. You hear your own breathing quicken in your ears, and without thinking, you lean in to kiss him but Sukuna lifts his chin avoiding you and kissing your forehead instead.

“Come on, I'll take you to bed.”

Sat. 4/15 • -:- am—

You wake up with a slight headache pulsing in your temples and the sharp spicy smell of a perfume you don't recognize as your own. Still with your eyes closed, you turn your body to reach for the phone on the bedside table, you stretch your fingers in search of it, but your hands can't seem to find the nightstand, so you struggle to blink slowly and finally open your eyes completely. The unusual darkness confuses you a bit and makes you wonder what time it is; the sun should be penetrating the motel windows intensely at this hour, so you curiously sit up in bed. You look for your phone under the pillow, between the sheets and in every nook and cranny your hands can reach on the mattress.

It is at that moment when you notice the different color of the sheets and the four pillows around you, making you realize that this is not your bed, nor is this your room. Looking at your legs you realize that you are still dressed in last night's clothes, then you remember Sukuna. Your eyes scan the room in the absence of light — were you in his room or maybe he had another guest room? You pull the sheet off your legs and head to the window to open the black curtains and let the sun finish waking you up.

The lively view of the city greets you from below, cars come and go on the fast moving highway. With the help of the light now illuminating every corner, you take another look at the room and find out that this was probably his: the space is spacious and modern, following the same style as the living room with a minimalist decoration. The walls are a light gray and in front of the bed there is an elegant glass desk with an office chair. On top of the desk, there is a closed laptop and some tidy papers.

The bed is bigger than the one in the motel and is covered with black sheets, next to it a closet with the doors made of a mirror in which you see yourself perfectly reflected, you try to fix your hair as much as you can in case you find him when you go out looking for your phone, but by the prevailing silence makes you aware that Sukuna was probably not at home.

You find your phone on the floor near the couch. At the memory that it must have slipped out of your pocket when you almost fell last night just to then try to kiss Sukuna, your body burns with embarrassment. Unlocking the screen and looking at the time you find a message from Sukuna and missed calls from your father and group of friends. Shit, you totally forgot them.

R. SUKUNA: If you wake up and I'm not here, take a shower, there are headache pills in the desk drawer and eat something. If you decide to take a bath, use something from my closet. I'm visiting my grandpa, I'll be back in about an hour. :)

Checking the time, you realize that the message was sent half an hour ago so you still had time to be alone and clear your thoughts before he returned. After how absurd you acted last night, you don't want to see him today, not in a few weeks maybe. You don't have the courage to look him in the face, especially after he walked away, making it clear to you where he stood with you.

You return to the room with the phone in your hand and a glass of water you quickly grabbed from the kitchen. You open the first drawer and search for the pills you need stumbling upon some personal items, including two small square wrappers of different texture and metallic blue color. Before an unwanted idea can germinate in your mind, you push the condoms aside and take the pill, drinking every last drop from the glass.

You are determined to leave and escape from him, but the sweat from the previous day clings to your body and you refuse to go out like this. You quickly duck into the familiar bathroom and take a quick shower without getting your hair wet this time, opting only to pull it up in a simple bun and wear the same clothes from the day before. You exit the bathroom determined to take refuge in the motel, walking straight to the front door.

“Good morning.” His voice makes you yelp. You put one hand on your chest and one on your mouth, looking him up and down as if you've seen a ghost, and he has the audacity to laugh.

Sukuna looks fresh, as if he's had a good night's sleep and just got out of the shower. He's wearing a light blue short-sleeved sweater and black sweatpants; the baseball cap covering part of his face makes him look much younger.

“Did you sleep well?” Sukuna speaks again and you hope he didn't notice you looking him up and down.

“Yes, thank you. I had a bit of a headache, but I'm better now. we...?” We sleep together. It's the sentence you don't get to finish.

“The couch is more comfortable than it looks.” He gives you another brief grin and your heart flips.

“I'm so sorry about yesterday.”

You both know what you mean, so neither of you decides to delve into it. He downplays it with a wave of his hand, and you appreciate his friendship now more than ever, so you let that memory die.

“You were drunk...” he excuses you before you have a chance to.

“Of course, I never...” you stop, unable to finish the sentence.

“I know.”

“How's your grandfather?” you ask him, quickly changing the subject, struggling not to notice the tattoo peeking through the opening near his neck.

“He's much better, actually.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” you say sincerely, forcing yourself to swallow the guilt that's weighing you down inside. He's showing his most vulnerable side with you, and all you can think about is how much you want to kiss his neck.

“There's just one little problem.”

Your eyes narrow and you take a step forward, paying more attention this time. “What's wrong?” you inquire with genuine concern.

“He wants to meet my girlfriend.”

"Oh." You blink slowly, your lips opening and closing as you choose your next words carefully. “You have a girlfriend.” It's a statement. Of course he has a girlfriend.

“That's where you come in.”

“Excuse me?”

“He always insists that he doesn't like me being alone, that I should focus on other things than taking care of him and the restaurant. To put his mind at ease, I told him I have a girlfriend, I just didn't count on him asking me to meet her. I can only rely on you for that.”

You're flattered, but it's still not enough to hide the fact: “So you lied to him.” You ponder, processing all the information he's blurted out to you.

“Um, no. I'm going to get one, just not now. I'm not sure how long I'll be able to keep him with me and I didn't want to disappoint him.”

You nod slowly. “So, you want us to go visit him?”

“Yes, just once or twice.”

“And for me to act like I'm your girlfriend?”

“Yup.”

You sigh deeply, you massage your eyes with the palm of your hand trying to run away at least for a second from his presence and the effect he has on you; you don't want to keep looking at him and keep thinking about what he is making you feel inside because, what was all that? Sukuna was. your. friend. Why couldn't your hormones understand that and why did you suddenly feel like you would burst if he ever touched you? You finally open your eyes, nod.

“Yeah, okay. I'll help you.”

You don't think about the implications of this, you don't think about the fact that pretending to be his girlfriend makes your heart gallop fast against your ribs when it shouldn't. This is nothing more than an act of good faith, you're just helping a friend. You refuse to consider that you might have to hold his hand, and even the idea of having to kiss him is possible in some scenario.

It's the first time in years that you realize you don't remember the last time you kissed someone. You've been so focused on working, improving and becoming a better dancer every day that you don't remember the last time you had romantic or sexual contact with someone, and you're definitely not ready for Sukuna to be your first.

“I have to go now.”

You have a lot to process.

“Stay for breakfast,” he suggests with that lopsided grimace of his, the one where he doesn't show his teeth but could make you sign a deal with the devil if he wanted to. You have to grip your bag tighter so you don't reach out and touch the inky flash that winks at you again.

“See you later!” you say instead, running for the door.

You don't stop to wait for an answer because you know he would change your mind because that's what he always does (get his way), make you stay and confuse you even more. You pull out your phone and call for an Uber back to the discomfort of your bed, where you can be away from the effect he has on you.

Thurs. 5/10 •

Meeting Hiroshi in person after hearing so much about him makes you feel like you've already known him for a long time. The smile spreads on his face like ink on water when he sees you, and it's already second nature for him to call you “daughter” as he grabs your hand and cheeks affectionately; he really likes you and you like him back.

Accompanied by Sukuna holding your hand, you always bring him flowers or fruits and listen attentively as Sukuna reads to him and tells him how business is going at the restaurant, while he nods. In a way, he reminds you of your own grandfather; a man just as sweet and hardworking. Seeing this new side of Sukuna is certainly different and addictive. The patient way he talks to his grandfather makes you look at him with admiring eyes; he seems like a totally different man. You have been accompanying him for the last three visits and seeing him spending so much time with his grandfather is becoming a regular habit.

On one of these visits you bump into someone you had seen before in one of the photographs he has hanging in his apartment. Yuuji, much older, much more adult, smiles at you and has the same cheerful expression as his grandfather; he is a boy full of energy who squeezes your hand and shakes it energetically the first time you meet him. He looks a lot like Sukuna and it is impossible for you not to make the internal comparison of how different they are despite being so physically similar.

On Monday after visiting Hiroshi, exchanging the flowers for new ones and making sure he was enjoying his favorite meal, Yuuji, who was already at the hospital when you got there, invites you over for dinner as a sweet gesture to get to know you better.

The restaurant a few blocks away from the hospital is crowded with people, brimming with a cozy, family atmosphere with polished wooden tables and delicate white tablecloths. The soft murmur of family conversations intermingles with the tantalizing aroma of dishes wafting from the kitchen and traditional music in the background.

“I never thought I'd see Uncle Sukuna with a girlfriend,” Yuuji confesses as he rolls noodles on his chopsticks and brings them to his mouth.

“Hey,” Sukuna growls, finishing the sake in one gulp. “Don't disrespect your uncle.”

“It's not that,” Yuuji laughs.“It's just that you're always so secretive, and after what happened with Dad... but I'm happy for both of you.”He looks at you briefly now as he shakes his head slowly.

Your body twitches softly at the surprise of feeling Sukuna curling his fingers with yours on top of the table. His thumb caresses the back of your hand, and butterflies flutter inside you at the sight of this affectionate gesture, though you quickly remember that it's all part of the act. Getting caught up in the moment and excusing yourself to your inner judge, you gently squeeze his hand, reminding yourself to maintain the role of girlfriend.

As you enjoy dinner, you and Sukuna chat animatedly, sharing anecdotes about Hiroshi, the origin of the restaurant's peculiar name, and Yuuji's antics as a child. The vibe in the restaurant is permeated with warmth and energy, with the bustle of the other tables and the comforting aroma of ramen wafting through the air.

At the end of the meal, Yuuji bids the two of you goodbye with a hug, explaining that he must go elsewhere but that he hopes you will have a second date together.

As soon as he makes sure Yuuji has left the restaurant, Sukuna looks at you with a soft smile. “Thank you for joining me tonight. I know this isn't part of your commitment as a 'fake girlfriend'.”

You smile back, still feeling the warmth of his finger on your skin. “Thank you for letting me meet your grandpa, he's an amazing person, and your nephew is really adorable.”

Sukuna nods, his eyes shining with something you can't decipher. “I know Yuuji really likes you too. I think he likes you more than me.”

You giggle softly, recognizing that this encounter has brought you closer to Sukuna. Meeting one of the most important pillars of his life, along with his nephew, who is practically the only close family he has left, makes you feel lucky to be able to witness this more intimate side of him. You just hope that, when all is said and done and they both realize that you're just his friend they'll still continue to accept you and treat you with the affection that has characterized them so far.

“Maybe I should go back to the motel. It's getting late,” you say, bursting the bubble that had enveloped you out of reality. Being away from him was the last thing you wanted right now, but you needed to remind yourself from time to time that this was not part of your current life.

At that moment, he gently withdraws his fingers from yours and nods with a tense line on his lips.

“Sure. Join me for a smoke first.”

After paying the bill and leaving the restaurant, you both walk to the back with Sukuna gently tugging on your hand, still engaged in an act that should only happen when Yuuji or his grandfather are around. Surrounding you, a few people congregate to talk and share a cigarette.

Sukuna brings the cigarette to his mouth and you help him shield it with your hands as he tilts his head slightly to avoid the wind. The cigarette lights up as he inhales and exhales slowly through his nose, keeping his gaze fixed on you the whole time. He is leaning against the wall and you are close by, standing between his spread legs.

“I'll probably have to go home soon..., my real home, I mean,” you tell him suddenly, preferring to watch the people walking in and out of the parking lot instead of paying attention to him.

“Is it the money?”

You nod still without glancing at him. “I can't wait for it to be over, I already talked to my dad and he also thinks it's for the best.”

Sukuna is silent as he takes another puff and exhales just in time for when you turn back to look at him.

“I've been requesting a recommendation letter for you for another academy. I filed an official report against Kurogawa and we have witnesses, people who had made accusations before but had never filed an official report.”

His name brings back bitter memories that dissolve in the smoke and stale smell of the cigarette.

“I'm going to testify too.” Your voice surprises you as much as it seems to surprise Sukuna, who looks you up and down with curious eyes.

“Fine. I'll be with you.”

“Why didn't you tell me before?”

“I wanted to be sure, I didn't want to get your hopes up.” His eyes turn soft and you can see in them the same shadow that was in them that time in his apartment. He was looking at your lips just like now and he didn't seem to mind hiding it. “You look beautiful, by the way. Yuuji kept looking at you.”

You smile, glancing down at the teal dress you decided to wear that night.

“You don't look bad yourself,” you tell him, touching your fingertips to the oversized wool coat he was wearing. Sukuna follows your fingers as they stumble over the black buttons and away from his body. His eyes follow your hands that stay still on either side of your body and then they return to your face, momentarily checking your mouth.

“Wanna try?” he asks, raising the cigarette to your eye level.

“I've never smoked,” you confess.

“That wasn't my question.” He bites his lip, followed by the tip of his pink tongue moistening his lower lip gently. “You want me to guide you?”

“...Yes.”

“Open your mouth,” his voice comes out quick, eager and sharp almost like yours. His words guide you as you part your lips just enough for him to place the cigarette between them. But instead, Sukuna pulls you closer into him gently squeezing your waist as he exhales smoke into your half-open lips. “Swallow a little bit and then exhale,” he gently commands you. “Don't let it go down your throat.”

You follow his instructions without complaint, holding the smoke for a moment in your mouth before releasing it. The taste of ash floods your palate for a moment, a smell you find unbearable and yet.... “More,” you find yourself asking, rising on tiptoe to reach for the cigarette yourself.

You're sure you're not asking for more of the cigarette, you're asking for more of him. Of the brief touch you get from his unfriendly hands on your body, more of his perfume lulling your senses, more of his closeness.

His fingers leave your lower back to climb up to your jaw keeping you steady, still and trapped as he exhales a second puff between your parted lips. Your heart flips but you manage to repeat the action of inhaling and exhaling without coughing, and as he prepares to do it a third time without you asking, your noses collide in the darkness of your closed eyes; his lips brush yours for an electric instant, and you feel his fingers clinging tighter to your jaw: breathing out.

“My God...you,” you stand still, feeling yourself burn inside as his warm breath seeps into you once more. “If you don't stop me, I will do something I will regret.” His words are a threat brushing your tongue.

Your foreheads meet and rest against each other, fingers guided by desire slipping under his coat where you cling to his shirt ruffling the fabric. You close your eyes waiting to feel him, that first real contact, charged with sparkle and fireworks. You tilt your neck back, giving him the access he needs to take you.

“I'm not going to stop you,” you gasp, pushing closer.

Sukuna growls like an animal, immediately replacing his grip with his lips on your jaw; barely perceptibly grazing the flesh and bringing tickles to your insides. Then he moves slowly up to your ear, outlining the jaw bone with his mouth and staying still behind the shell of your ear, simply breathing warm air.

“We're in public,” he reminds you, and you squeeze your eyes shut. Charged with a bravery that is uncharacteristic of you, you reach your hand toward his crotch, feeling the bulge that is evident through his pants.

“Then let's go somewhere more private.”

Sukuna grunts once more, hunching towards you in such a way that it appears as if he is hugging you. His hands slide down your back until they reach your ass and squeeze it, the people around you startle you but the feeling lasts a moment before you turn your attention back to him and the plea that seems to spill from his throat.

“What have you done to me?” he utters your name as if you were a divine being and he is a mere servant. Your hand, gaining confidence, presses harder on his erection. “I want to slowly peel off your clothes, worship every inch of your body. Kiss every spot, every mole.”

He abandons the comfort of your ear to move to your neck, where you sense his breath as he subtly pushes his hips against your open palm. It's embarrassing to be doing this in public. His coat and the shadows of the night help hide the scene, but if someone were to discover you, you could get in trouble.

“Tell me you need it too,” he whispers against your throat on the verge of losing his temper and pressing his nose, his eager mouth clinging to your skin; sucking. “Tell me you feel the fire in your chest too,” he gasps, his teeth grazing a little harder.

“Fuck. I feel it. I've wanted to say it for a long time, but I was afraid you wouldn't feel the same,” you lick your lips. “That night when I tried to kiss you...”

“You were drunk,” he interrupts you. “I didn't want you to regret it the next day.” Sukuna reluctantly pulls away to admire you with dilated pupils and parted lips. “But you have no idea how much I've had to restrain myself to act just like a friend.” He examines you up and down. “Let's go to my apartment.”

Holding hands and with feelings running high, you move quickly into the parking lot to find the bike parked a few feet from where you were. Sukuna just lets you go to put the helmet around your head and then proceeds to put his on and without another thought you set off on the road. The cool night air immediately envelops you, the edge of your dress flaps against your thighs thanks to the speed at how fast he was going, almost as quickly as your heart beats in your chest. For you, there's a mixture of excitement and nervousness, a sense of disbelief mixed with anticipation. You can't stop thinking about what just happened, what you've wanted to occur for months and what might happen now.

The drive back to his apartment is fraught with sexual tension. The speed, the wind in your faces and the physical proximity keeps you on edge, your fingers run up and down his chest under his coat, impatient up and down patterns reminding him how close you are.

As you reach the apartment the palpable excitement between you and Sukuna intensifies. You both quickly slide off the bike, and holding hands take the elevator to his floor. Neither of you say anything until you reach the quiet of his place, interrupted by the hitching of breaths.

Sukuna steps forward and sits on the couch that is now so familiar to you, his eager but controlled expression blurring in the gloom that dances in the living room. From there, he calls your name softly, his voice laden with restrained emotion. The atmosphere in the apartment seems charged with electricity as you approach him, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you get closer, Sukuna watches you carefully, his eyes roaming over every part of you with admiration and desire.

“Take off your dress,” he says hoarse with lust.

Without thinking you grab the edge of the dress, slip it over your head and pull it aside to be left with only the underwear you have chosen for the night. As you move forward and are finally in the middle of his spread knees Sukuna grabs your hips and helps you to sit on his lap. The grip on your hips firms and hardens, he takes it upon himself to rub your covered core against the wideness of his thigh and short moans of pleasure take over your mouth.

“Keep riding my thigh. Slowly. Feel that pussy get wet for me, feel it ache,” he indicates, releasing your hips to then worship your thighs up and down.

Oh. It was aching, you want to tell him. Everything inside you was doing it, burning with need every muscle, every vein. Your legs from the posture, your pussy from need and your tight belly begging for a release but instead you stand quietly contemplating with your mouth open the way, after removing his coat, he undresses the buttons of the sweater one by one finally satiating your curiosity by revealing the tattoo underneath.

More black marks. They draw you in and invite you to touch them, thick ink-filled lines that you trace under your fingers start at his chest, cross between the line that joins his shoulder and neck and disappear behind along his back. Puzzled you stare at him some more, losing yourself in his eyes as you rise to look at him; he looks still, pleased that you are touching him as if he were art.

“Did they hurt?” you wonder with a bit of naiveté.

Sukuna cradles your breasts gently above the fabric of your bra, he seizes the moment to tug on your nipples hard, getting you to moan.

“They hurt a lot,” he confesses quietly, in a low tone of voice that plays it down.

You continue tracing the canvas that is his skin, moving down his abdomen until you stumble upon the belt that holds his pants in place. Briefly you check his eyes, hoping they tell you something more than the lust that seems to flood them.

“Why did you decide to get tattooed then?”

Sukuna catches your gaze silently, his fingers snaking around your belly, walking up to stop in the middle of your thighs and through your panties he strokes your clit with three fingers.

“We all have to endure a little pain sometimes, don't we?”

It feels so intimate the way he talks to you, the way he looks at you. When he roams your body with his gaze you can't help but feel small. You rub against his fingers, push and circle them helping him get to know your body better, listening to your broken gasps, showing him exactly where it makes you feel good.

“I want to suck your cock,” you confess as you reach down to undo his belt. There was no shame binding you now, only a raw desire that longs to be unleashed.

He smiles pleased with the change in attitude, and silently pushes your hips up to help you remove his pants leaving him alone in a pair of boxers which you soon pull down leaving them tangled midway down his thighs. Sukuna then pulls you off his lap and places you on the side of the couch where he instructs you to spread your legs for him thus getting easy access between your thighs.

As Sukuna continues to give attention to your pussy, you contemplate how hard he is: more than big it was thick, with the tip of an angry pink throbbing just below your mouth. It had been years since you had last given oral sex to someone, your last few encounters were nothing more than a monotonous thrusting and pulling out where you ended up with the guy cumming on your lower back or stomach; you never felt like sucking their cock but with sukuna it's different. With him everything is.

“It's been a long time since I've... you know,” you confess, holding back a nervous giggle.

From below you raise your gaze to lace it to his eyes that receive you slightly closed, sharing a guilty smirk that he wipes away as he bites his lip.

“You're doing a very good job,” he praises you. And his fingers tossing the edge of your panties aside leaves you breathless for a second, your lip quivering receiving his fingers inside you. “You don't have to do anything you don't want to, though.”

His words cause you to twitch around two fingers pushing and massaging your pussy. So deep, so slow, he synchronizes his thrusts with the way your lips close around the head of his cock; his movements are precise as if he's searching for something inside you, in, out and then he pulls them all the way out to make you cum as he rubs your clit hard and talks dirty to you.

Sukuna praises you sweetly as you sob his choked name against his thigh, his caresses surround your now sensitive clit and every time he touches it you find it impossible not to shudder. Then he grabs you by the face and kisses you on the forehead and holding your hand helps you up to guide you to his room that you already knew.

The lamps are off and the only light coming in is through the open window, the curtain ruffles softly in the cool spring breeze sending sudden chills down your bare skin. Sukuna instructs you to lie face down on the bed and you do so as he goes to another side of the room. The mirror you saw earlier shows you your half naked body under the swirling shadows and the masculine scent permeating his sheets makes you sigh deeply.

The bed sinks with his weight, the mattress groans as he digs his knees into it and positions himself behind you, your ass rising almost without your permission, eager with anticipation.

“You want to fuck me like this?” you throw your head back to catch him putting on the condom, one of the blue wrappers you saw before is now off to the side near your feet.

“Fuck yeah. Just lay back, you work so hard...” He snaps, spitting on his wrapped cock and giving it a couple of strokes before spreading your ass cheeks apart. “You want it like this, want me to work to make you feel good?”

“Yes,” you sigh, watching every glimpse that the dim light allows you of his body in the big mirror.

Slowly he sinks into you and you take it in with a deep moan. “That's it,” Sukuna murmurs, resting his hands on your lower back, initiating gentle thrusts that have your body rocking against the sheets.

Sometimes you feel him so deep you call his name, drunk with pleasure, you hope he understands you're begging him to keep going because you can't speak. Your mind is filled with him, his natural scent on the sheets, the smell of his sweaty perfume, his chest heavy against your back sinking you a little deeper into the mattress.

“Do you want to fuck yourself a little on my cock?” He says, gently circling your neck with his fingers without actually exerting any real pressure, with his free hand he stimulates your clit and your back arches right away. “Push your ass back, that's it...”

“I'm gonna cum...” you warn him, gasping with your mouth open, blinking rapidly so as not to lose sight of your bodies reflected in the mirror, fitting together perfectly as they do when dancing.

Your orgasm was still making you shiver the moment he turns you around so that you are facing each other. Sukuna is grinning showing you his sharp fangs, bringing your hands above your head and clasping his fingers between yours he starts fucking you again, your legs on his broad shoulders, his mouth just inches from you.

“Hi,” he says giggling breathlessly and it catches you immediately. “You look so beautiful now, you look gorgeous when you cum for me...”

His thrusts become deeper, your skins echoing each time they meet.

“Ryōmen...”

“I know, baby. I feel it too... Do you want me to cum inside?” You nod drunkenly with pleasure, unable to stop staring into those deep red eyes, his lashes fluttering and you notice his jaw tightening. “Yeah? You want to feel my thick load creaming that pussy?” he says, through clenched teeth.

“Yes, oh my god, please.”

Your fingers run down your stomach and down between your thighs, your fingers graze your clit once giving you the final push you need to cum a third time.

“Next time we'll do it raw, baby. I promise, but take it like this now, hm; cum for me.”

Your body tenses, your belly tightens in anticipation as Sukuna finally joins his lips with yours. The sensation is electric, as if a current of desire runs through every fiber of your being. Your lips meet in an eager, fiery kiss, where Sukuna sucks your tongue greedily and bites your lower lip with unbridled passion.

The intensity is almost obscene, each movement making you moan softly. Your legs tremble, but his weight on you only fuels the growing fire in your belly. Though your body aches in this position, you can't stop; the kiss is addictive, a whirlwind of sensations that far exceeds your deepest desires. It is far more than any subtle fantasy you have allowed yourself to imagine.

Sukuna leans closer, his hands caressing your face tenderly as his lips explore yours with passionate urgency. The room fills with the sound of your ragged breathing, swallowing each of the growls he lets die in your mouth.

. . . Slowly he pulls out of you, then rushes to throw the condom away in a basket by the desk. Your aching body turns to admire his broad back and gaze at the ink stains on it in the poor light.

With a simple “I'll be right back,” he leaves you waiting naked between the sheets your fingers stretch to gather and tuck you in. Before you can allow feelings of guilt or doubt to arise, Sukuna returns to the bed with a bottle of water that he offers you to drink. You immediately bring it to your mouth as he lies down next to you, one hand behind his head and the other resting on his tummy.

You snuggle close to him and Sukuna immediately wraps his arms around you, drawing you into his warm body.

“That was amazing,” you admit, as your fingers trace figures on his chest. However, Sukuna senses how you suddenly tense up.

“What's wrong?” he asks you with a frown.

“I was thinking about what's going to happen to us now,” you mutter, averting your gaze.

“I like you,” he says, as if it hasn't been clear until now. “I want you to be my girlfriend, for real this time,” you both chuckle lightly, and you raise your face to stare at him for a moment, a smile spreading across your lips.

“I like you too,” you admit with a hot face, surprised to admit it out loud; you never thought this moment would come, the odds of ending up in love with Sukuna were low, almost nil. And yet, here you are.

“Good. Then we have no more questions,” he leans in for a fleeting kiss on your lips, awakening a dormant volcano in your belly. “I have to go visit my grandfather tomorrow, do you wanna grab lunch when I'm done?”

“Is it okay if I come with you?”

“Of course. You know we love having you around,” he says, struggling to hold back another smile.

"Does that mean that if I'm your girlfriend now I won't have to help you lift the fish boxes anymore?" you joke, and he drops his head back laughing softly. You look at him in awe, you never thought you could like him any more than you already did, but having him like this, so close, so vulnerable, makes your heart race.

You want to kiss him again, to sit on his lap and take control this time, but you bite your lip instead, letting out a smile.

“You're definitely going to have to help me more at the restaurant now that you're my girl.”

My girl. You feel like you might burst.

“And what about my dad? I already told him I'd go back to my country.”

“Nah. I'm not going to let you get away so easily, you're mine now. You're exactly where you belong.”

And Sukuna was right. Here you feel good, safe, despite the struggles you will face you know you can get through it together. So you lean in and kiss him again, and again and again; you would have all night and many more because now you were his and he was yours.

Thank you for reading! reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated ♡

I don't do parts two! ⟡ I do not allow repost (do not translate or copy elsewhere), please do not recommend my work on tiktok.

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