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#I fear for this curious idiot
petorahs · 10 months
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personal but there comes to a point in my shipping where if i like it for long enough i come up with an otp tag for it and theres no set time for this but i really cant wait to know what my mind comes up with for shuake.
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swiftispunk · 15 days
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acts of service | frankie morales x f!reader
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masterlist | frankie masterlist | kofi | ao3 | follow @swiftispunkupdates and turn on notifications for updates
pairing: frankie morales x f!reader rating: 18+ word count: 7.9k
summary: an unexpected admission leads frankie to make you an offer you can't refuse. this surely won't come with any consequences. OR you've never had your pussy ate and your best friend frankie helps you out. warnings etc: [pre-triple frontier] smut, childhood best friends to lovers, mutual pining, idiots in love are lying to themselves and each other, shy!reader, kind of insecure!reader, pet names in both english and spanish, literal porn, piracy, the US military, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m), a little handjob action, frankie morales has a huge cock, reader is curvy coded but i think anyone could read this fic, pov swapping, this has kind of a bittersweet ending i'm sorry. no use of y/n.
a/n: these two kind of just swept me up and took me on a ride. i headcanon this girlie eventually becomes frankie's "lady," which i tell you now bc i fear i might have accidentally made this sad. thank you @joelscruff for the beta and thank you @adamantiumspy for the notes on the spanish.
“I should get going soon, huh?”
“No.”
“Okay, then,” Frankie shrugs, requiring no more convincing than that.
He hadn’t really wanted to leave anyway. He was just trying to be polite. He knows he doesn’t have to worry about that with you, but still. He doesn’t want to overstay his welcome or anything.
It's just that the times he gets back home are rare, and even rarer are the times he gets with you. His best friend. He doesn’t know if that’s still what you’d call him, but that’s his own stupid fault. Maybe he’s known you the longest but he knows you’ve been busy building your own life, a life far removed from the years you’d spent growing up together.
You’ve got all kinds of friends now. People he’s never met, people that came into your life while he’d been deployed. Hell, you’ve spent the better part of the last six months dating some guy you’d met on a dating app (he didn’t even know you could use those things for anything other than fucking) but that relationship had fallen apart before he’d even gotten the chance to meet the guy. Your first real boyfriend, as you’d put it.
It’s probably for the best anyway. Frankie’s sure he wouldn’t have liked him.
Frankie’s not sure he’ll like any guy you’re dating who’s not him.
But you don’t need to know that. He’d chosen this life, for better or for worse, and the last thing he’s going to do is burden you with his stupid, inescapable feelings when he knows he’s just gonna have to leave again anyway. 
So instead, he overstays his welcome. 
The bowl of popcorn you share sits half finished on the end table, your cozy little living room cast in the faint glow of a colourful glass-shaded floor lamp, that one you’d proudly boasted about finding at the antiques market. He remembers the ache in his chest when you’d sent him that picture, that painful longing for a simple life with you, complete with antiquing and brunch and nights like tonight; your feet in his lap, splayed out together on your sectional while Frankie flips aimlessly through your seemingly never-ending list of channels.
“Jesus, how much do you pay for this?” he demands, honestly just curious now as he clicks towards the channel-800 mark, waiting for the numbers to circle back to 1–which he really thinks should have happened by now. “Who even needs all these channels?”
He jumps past a slew of news stations that all appear to be from different countries, perfectly punctuating his point. 
Your sweet laughter fills the air. God, he loves that sound. He’s missed it.
“You think I pay for this?” you say. “Frank, this shit is like, so illegal.” 
“Excuse me?” He rounds on you, pausing his scrolling on what appears to be a soap opera from Indonesia, “So you’re a criminal?” 
“No,” you insist, making grabby hands for the remote, which he deliberately holds just out of your reach with a smirk. “My dad set it up, I don’t even know how it works. I only use it to watch Housewives, anyway.” 
“Sure,” he teases as you squirm a little closer, your legs draping over his thighs almost to the knee now. His cheeks warm at the proximity but he pushes down the butterflies in his stomach, twisting away from you as you reach across his body for the remote. “Next time I come home you’re gonna be running some kinda underground piracy ring on the dark web.” 
“Whatever.” You slump back into your spot on the couch, adorably mock-grumpy about it. But Frankie can still see the smile tugging at your lips. 
“No, seriously,” he presses on, “If I’m gone long enough, I’m gonna come back and find you in jail.” 
That quickly wipes the smile off your face. Your mouth forms into a hard line and a sharp twinge of guilt punches Frankie hard in the gut. 
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t go away for so long,” you grumble, and there’s no hint of teasing in your voice anymore.
Frankie’s own face falls and he swallows tightly against the sudden lump in his throat. He shouldn’t have fucking said anything. And worst of all, you keep looking at him with these big, sad eyes, like you’re heartbroken at the thought of him going away again and goddamnit if you keep that up, he might start to believe it means something more than it really does.
Whatever anguish he’s feeling inside must be showing pretty clearly on his face because before he can even open his mouth to make it right, you’re apologizing to him. 
“Sorry, I made it weird,” you quickly amend, shaking your head and forcing a smile. Like it’s your job to alleviate the tension in the room. You’re always doing that. Always making sure everyone else is comfortable. But Frankie’s not gonna let you get away with that. Because you have every reason to be mad at him and he knows it.
“Hey, no,” he sighs, sitting forward and anxiously rubbing at his scruff. “You didn’t make it weird. I’m sorry.”
He’s not sure what for. For leaving, for bringing it up, for loving you. The sympathetic smile you offer him feels less forced now, at least.
“It’s okay,” you nod. You take a deep breath through your nose and Frankie’s relieved to see you let your guard down again, your head falling back into the couch behind you as you exhale. Your eyelids flutter closed for a second and he feels almost envious of how relaxed you look. That is, until a cacophony of blood curdling screams begin erupting from the television and your head is quickly snapping up at the sound.
“What the fuck are we watching?” you demand, your voice coated with genuine laughter again.
“I think she just found out he was having an affair,” Frankie posits, trying his best to make sense of the drama currently unfolding on screen.
“I don’t know, she could be screaming about how much she loves that other woman’s outfit.”
“She’s crying.”
“Maybe she’s just passionate about fashion, Francisco.”
He snorts and for a few minutes, you watch in comfortable silence, taking turns guessing what the hell is going on until you give up and nudge at his leg with your socked toes.
“Keep looking,” you suggest. “I don’t know what else is on here, I’ve honestly never gone this high in the channels.”
“‘Kay,” he agrees easily with a smirk. He’s always loved how you let yourself get a little bossy with him. You’re not like that with everyone. You’re quiet with most people, always trying to make yourself smaller or sweeter or softer. But not with him. And that’s how he likes it. He’d never want you to pretend with him. 
He clicks his way higher and higher through the channels, waiting for something to catch his eye or yours. He quickly flies over a long string of radio channels, 60s, 70s, 80s, Easy Listening…he’s flicking through them so fast he doesn’t catch the moment the channel titles lining the bottom of the screen change to XXX–Adult, 24/7 Porn and you’re suddenly being slapped with the image of a woman laid out on a kitchen counter, bare beyond a pair of stilettos, moaning out obscenely while her male scene partner buries his face in her pussy.
“Oh, Jesus,” you groan. You cover your face with your hands, poking an eye out from between your fingers, a sight so fucking cute Frankie forgets for a second that he should probably change the channel.
The woman on screen cries out as the man between her legs devours her–a little overzealous, in Frankie’s opinion. Frankie swallows tightly, pushing down on the unconscious twist of arousal the sound inspires. He’d be lying if he said the images on screen combined with your legs still slung over his thighs weren’t having some kind of effect on him. 
“You’ve really got everything on this thing, huh?” he chuckles, working to keep his tone light. 
You keep peeking through your fingers at the screen and inexplicably, Frankie finds himself torn, hesitating with his hand on the dial. What would it be like to watch this with you? Would you want that? Why does it feel like crossing a line? Why does he kind of want to?
“Frankie, turn it off,” you beg and that easily settles it. If you don’t want it, then neither does he.
He mumbles a hurried, okay okay, continuing his exploration upwards through the channels but…it doesn’t stop. Just channel after channel of actors in various states of nudity and debauchery.  
“Fuck–there’s a lot,” he notes, more to himself than you.
He combs past a few orgies and some painfully inauthentic lesbian stuff. He knows he could just hop back to the guide instead of skimming through it all, but it’s kind of funny now to see just how much porn is baked into this highly illegal cable device your dad had apparently set up for you. 
He only pauses when you make a small comment, just as he comes upon another video of a man shouldered between a woman’s thighs, the camera zoomed in close to his face as he flicks his tongue over her clit.
“Ugh, why do they always have them doing that?” 
Frankie turns to face you, letting the video continue on in the background. Your hands aren’t covering your eyes anymore. Instead, you assess the scene with furrowed brows and your lips curled upwards in disgust. 
“What?” 
“Like, there’s no way either of them enjoy that,” you continue, waving your hand at the screen like he should just know what you’re referring to. 
Now Frankie frowns, turning back to the TV in case he’s missed something horribly wrong. But no…as far as he can tell, it’s just a man feverishly eating pussy. 
“You’re talking about him eating her out?” Frankie asks. 
“Yes!” 
You say it like it should be obvious. 
You watch together now, and Frankie tries his best to take in the scene pragmatically. Which is hard, considering the wet smack of the man’s lips against the woman’s pussy is making his ears burn and the blood rush to his cock.
The male actor is…enthusiastic. Lacking some finesse maybe, but certainly giving it his all. His eyes are closed, mouth glued to her cunt as he rocks his head back and forth. He’s on his knees in front of her, dick hard as a rock between his legs. Frankie can’t really see the problem, but you’re still cringing away beside him.   
“I mean, she’s over acting a bit but he seems to be enjoying it,” Frankie shrugs.
At that, you scoff.
“What?” 
“No guy actually enjoys that,” you say insistently.
His first reaction is shock; you’re a smart person and he’s never heard you say anything more wrong. But the initial disbelief quickly turns to rage the second it dawns on him that there’s no way you could have come to that conclusion on your own, which means someone else must have convinced you it was true. 
“Who the fuck told you that?” he demands. 
It comes out angrier than he intends.
“I–”
All at once, you shrink in on yourself, dropping your head and staring down at your hands. And all at once, Frankie feels like an asshole because he can tell you really fucking believe the lie.
“Nenita,” he says, softening his tone.
He turns the volume down on the TV and twists to face you full-on. The obscene images on screen play on in the background but they’re easier to ignore without the wanton moans of the actors. He wraps a hand around one of your wrists and you peer up at him shyly. 
“Who told you that?” he repeats. 
You take a deep breath.
“You remember that Tinder guy I told you about?”
Any attempt at softness dissipates in a second. Your voice is so timid and Frankie’s blood boils because you’re not supposed to sound that way with him. About a million furious thoughts cross his mind, like how much he’d love to fucking kill the loser who’d made you feel this way, who’d fed you the most absurd, bullshit lie just so he could deny you pleasure–
Jesus. Your first real boyfriend. How many times had you sucked his cock, maybe even let him fuck you and he–
The goddamn injustice of it all has him too mad to even respond. He just makes some noise between a huff and a scoff and squeezes his fingers tighter around your wrist. 
“I don’t know, that’s just what he said,” you go on quickly, always trying to diffuse the tension. You shake your head and look down at your hands again. “He said he didn’t like it and any guy who says he does is lying.”
“Well, I like it,” Frankie says reflexively and your eyes snap up to meet his at once. 
One thing about you and Frankie is that you rarely ever talk about sex. You’ve been with people, he’s been with people–you both know this. But you don’t…talk about it. Frankie’s not one to kiss and tell anyway, plus, maybe part of him had always thought that if he’d been too explicit about his experiences with other people, you might start to think he hadn’t been dreaming about you through every single one of them. 
It’s why this admission, here, in your apartment, on your couch, with some second rate porno playing in the background, has you staring at him wide-eyed. Because it feels like crossing a line.
But Frankie holds his ground, staring right back at you until he sees you nod. 
“I fucking love it,” he continues, like he needs you to really hear it. “And I’m not lying.”
You nod again, and even though you still don’t look fully convinced, he leans back into the couch, prepared to let it go but–
“Wait, so.” He sits upright again, and he really shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t go crossing yet another line but some sick, masochistic part of him needs to know. “Does that mean he never even–?”
You just give him this look before dropping your gaze back down to your lap and Frankie sighs, pulling his cap back to comb an exasperated hand through his curls instead of saying what he’d really like to say.
It probably is for the best he never got the chance to meet this guy.
“I mean, it’s fine, I didn’t want it anyway,” you insist with a shrug. “Or…I don’t even–I don’t even know if I like it.”
That’s fair, he guesses, but also–
“You probably just haven’t had anyone do it right.”
Every woman he’s ever been with had seemed to like it when he’d done it, anyway. He’s certain if he got his mouth on you…
Don’t even think about it.
But it’s too late; he already is thinking about it. Thinking about your messy little pussy and how warm and wet it would feel against his lips and how your sweet juices would stain his moustache and beard. How your soft thighs would feel pressed against his ears and how you’d writhe when you came for him. How he’d like to ruin you for anyone else so you’d never again have to doubt how much you loved it.
He’s thinking about it before you even quietly admit, “I haven’t had anyone do it at all.”
And the admission breaks his heart, because you deserve it. You deserve to feel good. He could make you feel good. 
He blurts out the offer before his brain can catch up in time to stop him–
“Can I?” he asks in a breathless rush. “Can I do it for you?”
Your eyes widen and something fiery burns in his belly, a tingling, nervous heat expanding outwards to his extremities with a kind of electric shock. Adrenaline, he realizes, coursing in his veins after crossing yet another uncrossable line.
“Frankie,” you breathe and he swears he can feel the same waves of anticipation that are currently flooding his senses rolling off of you in turn. 
“Just as a friend,” he lies, inching closer to you on the couch, experimentally resting his hand on your thigh. You both stare at it in wonder, shared breaths coming faster between you. 
“You can say no,” he whispers. Please don’t say no.
Your breath catches as he moves his hand higher, intoxicated by the warmth radiating between you. He gets as far as the soft crease of your thigh and then your hand is flying down to cover his, stopping him in his tracks.
“Frankie,” you repeat. He thinks you sound sad, and that’s not right. He lifts his stare from your conjoined hands to carefully watch your face, trying to make sense of the fear there, while you shake your head and nervously avoid his gaze. 
“You don’t need to do me any favours, Francisco,” you murmur.
“It’s not–” he starts, cutting himself off with a deep breath as he tries to collect his thoughts. 
A favour? Yeah, right. How can he find the right words to tell you he’s dreamt of this a million times? That even if he hadn’t been in love with you since he’d first laid eyes on you, getting the chance to eat you out would still be the sweetest fucking gift in the world?
He hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your face up so he can see your eyes. You glance up at him from under your lashes, doleful and shy, shoulders bunched up to your ears. No. You’re not supposed to look like that with him, you’re not supposed to make yourself small for him.
He presses his fingers down into the meat of your thigh and your lips fall apart as a shallow breath passes through them.
“I want it too, querida,” he rasps. He can hear years and years of pining and desperation underscoring his words. He hopes you don’t. 
-
You’re treading on dangerous ground and you know it. 
I want it too, querida. 
His whispered words ring out between you and you allow yourself to believe that they’re true. Frankie wants it, he wants to see your pussy and he wants to put his mouth on it, he wants to give this thing that no one’s ever given you before–
As a friend. 
It’s fine, you can ignore that part. You can pretend. This is just a friend helping a friend and not the man you’ve always wished would love you back and it’s definitely not going to fuck you up forever to let him do this.
You’re too blinded by arousal to think straight, too caught up in the heat of the moment as he moves your legs off his lap and pulls you down so you’re lying on your back and he’s hovering above you. He slowly strokes his hands up and down your thighs over your leggings, like he’s trying to get a feel for you. And he kind of is, you think. He’s never touched you like this before, all reverent and patient with it as his thumbs near the apex of your thighs before trailing his touch back down to the tops of your knees, over and over until you’re so turned on you don’t even care how much of a mistake this is. 
“You’re so fucking hot,” he hums, almost to himself as his big hands curl around your hips and his fingers play just under the edge of your shirt. 
He sounds so genuine. There’s no way this is real. 
Instinctually, you roll your eyes. “Frankie, come on.”
“You are,” Frankie insists, reaching up beneath the hem of your shirt to glide his palms over your bare sides. He exhales shakily at the feeling of your naked flesh under his hands and your cunt throbs in response, your will to argue with him fading in an instant. 
Then he licks his lips, flitting his eyes up to your face as if to ask permission for whatever he’s going to do next. Whatever it is, you nod your acceptance. 
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, appearing to steel himself before he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your leggings and begins to tug them down your thighs and– 
Reality hits you like a ton of bricks. Frankie’s about to see you naked. Francisco Morales is about to see all your imperfections and your curls and your pussy. 
“Frankie, wait.” 
You clench your legs together and Frankie stops at once. He looks up at you like a wounded puppy, brown eyes all wide and unsure, eyebrows raised in questioning. 
Oh god, he’s so beautiful. He has no idea how beautiful you’ve always found him. Not a clue how inadequate you’d started to feel beside him when he’d begun to grow up into such a handsome, desirable young man while you’d stumbled awkwardly through your teen years, always feeling like you’d never be worthy of love or pleasure, least of all from Frankie.
Of course you know now that’s not true; you’ve had plenty of suitors and casual hookups since Frankie’d gone away. Although, you’d never felt comfortable enough with any of them to let them do this for you. And then your stupid ex had to go and make you feel so ashamed for even wanting it that you’d been forced to just accept your fate, that this just wasn’t something you were ever going to get to experience.
And while you have to admit there’s probably no one in the world you feel more comfortable with than Frankie, you’ve also spent years convincing yourself he would never love you the way you’ve always loved him. That he’d never look at you the way you’d always wished he would.
If he’d wanted to, surely he would have done it by now. Right?
“You want me to stop?” he asks. 
“I just–”
You do but you also really, really don’t. You throw an arm over your face, debilitating nerves co-mingling with the electrifying need coursing through you. You can’t fucking think. 
You take a long, steadying breath, prying your arm away from your face to find him still looking down at you with that stupid, beautiful face. 
You’re about to offer him an out but the earnestness in his eyes makes you say something honest instead. 
“What if you don’t like what you see?”
The confusion on his face dissolves into something like shock as he huffs out a disbelieving laugh. You frown, embarrassed, and Frankie quickly reins himself in.
“Corazón,” he says, working to sound more serious even as a smile continues to pull at the corners of his lips. He grabs your arm and much to your surprise, places your hand over his crotch. Your mouth falls open with a sudden gasp. 
“Feel that? Feel how fucking hard I am?” Frankie murmurs gruffly and you do. Even through his jeans, the thick, prominent outline of his cock is firm and solid under your touch. You don’t think you can speak without moaning, so you just bite your lip and nod in answer to his question. 
“Créeme,” he grunts, pressing your hand down into his bulge like he’s trying to prove his point. “I already like what I see. Are you gonna let me see me more?”
You nod frantically, the evidence of his arousal all the convincing you need for now.
“Yes?” he presses expectantly.
“Yes–yeah, Frankie.”
You think you hear him say, ‘kay, under his breath, and then he’s shifting, considering the couch around him like he’s trying to decide how he wants to do this. 
“C’mere,” he suggests, not really giving you much of a choice as he guides you towards the corner of the sectional, maneuvering your body until your legs are dangling off the end of the couch. He locates a cushion and places it under your neck and then he falls to his knees on the floor before you. 
You’re now face to face with the muted porn on your TV screen, the actors having now advanced from cunnilingus to rabid fucking. It’s kind of a debauched backdrop, you guess, but no more debauched than the sight of Frankie throwing his cap off and darting his tongue out between his plush lips as his fingers make their way under your waistband again. He starts to tug, and this time, you let him. 
“Lift up just a bit for me, babe,” he instructs you gently when the fabric bunches around your ass. You angle your hips up and Frankie hums appreciatively, carefully pulling away your leggings and underwear. He keeps his eyes on his hands while he strips you from the waist down, moving without an ounce of haste. 
You bring your knees together out of habit once you’re fully bare but Frankie isn’t even looking where you expect him to. He’s looking at your ankles and shins as he draws a line up your legs with his hands, that same up and down pattern he’d painted on your thighs earlier. 
“Can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” he marvels softly.
Your heart rate quickens into overdrive when his hands eventually move up to rest on your knees. Something seems to overtake him then as his soft eyes darken and go a bit glassy, dull fingernails digging into your skin with barely-contained desperation. 
“Shit, baby,” he breathes, his voice almost a whine. He leans forward into you, teeth grazing at the flesh of your thigh as he peeks up at you from under his dark lashes. “Can I please look at your pussy?”
“Yeah, Frankie,” you squeak. How could ever say no when he sounds like that?
You urge your muscles to slacken as Frankie coaxes your knees apart, pulling back to look at you when he does. You can’t help it; you squeeze your eyes closed and hold your breath, waiting nervously for the moment he decides to end this.
“Fuck me,” Frankie groans. 
What does that mean? Is that good? 
“Holy shit, baby,” Frankie continues, shaking your leg a bit to get your attention and against your better judgment, you open your eyes. You look at him, rather than your own body laid out like this, because it’s easier that way. 
He’s ogling you, sitting back on his haunches with his hands on your knees, mouth agape as he takes in your pussy for the first time.
“You’re so wet,” he revels quietly, glancing up at you curiously. He looks…thrilled about it. “Do you always get this wet?”
You’re not sure you’ve ever been so wet in your entire fucking life actually.
“Mm-mm.”
Frankie smiles. 
“Just for me, huh?” he hums, then he’s looking at your pussy again and it’s like it entrances him. He growls, hinging to kiss your inner thighs. He inhales deeply through his nose and you try not to get too embarrassed at the thought of him breathing in your scent. Anyway, he seems to like it, if the ragged sigh he exhales and his fluttering lashes are anything to go by.
“Oh my god, you’re gonna taste so fucking good,” he grits through his teeth.
You’ve imagined your first kiss with Frankie thousands of times. But you’ve never imagined it quite like this. Never imagined his lips on your knees or his scruff on your thighs, his fingers tracing the stretchmarks around your hips like he’s drawing a map across your skin. Every touch, every patient, adoring graze of his hands and his mouth and his teeth both calms and excites you. 
“Can I tell you something?” he whispers after several long moments. 
“Yeah.”
“You have a perfect pussy.” The smile in his voice is audible and it quickly breaks the spell.
“Oh, fuck off,” you laugh, playfully kicking a leg out at him. “You don’t have to do all that.”
“Do what? I’m being so fucking serious,” he retorts, his sweet smiling fading. “It’s…so pretty. I’m not lying. Okay?”
You nod and choose to believe him. “Okay.”
It’s getting hard to argue with him now, as his hands glide up towards the apex of your thighs, spreading you open wider as he slowly nears your centre. Your heart pounds in your ears, chest light with anticipation as his thumbs brush your outer lips and your eyes snap shut again. 
“Can I touch you, baby?” he asks, his voice all low and husky in a way you’ve never heard him sound before. 
“Please.”
He sucks in a long breath, which you mirror unconsciously, and then he’s swiping two thick fingers through the seam of your folds, spreading wetness from your hole to your clit. 
“Oh,” Frankie sighs reverently as you melt under his curious touch. 
Your breaths come fast as he plays with your pussy, running his fingers up and down through the mess of it, getting to know you here just like he had with his hands on your body. This part you know, most men have at least put the effort in to finger you. But the fact that it’s Frankie touching you makes every sensation more electrifying and new. 
Never mind that no one’s ever touched you with as much patience and attentiveness as Frankie does, quietly observing every response his fingers elicit from you. He spreads your lips apart and pinches them back together, stroking your clit just enough to make you squirm before pulling away. 
You sneak an eye open just in time to catch him sucking his fingers clean, sighing long through his nose before he refocuses on your cunt. 
Well, he did say he loved it. Maybe you’re starting to believe him. 
He inches closer, broad shoulders finding space between your thighs.
“I’m gonna put my mouth on you now, hermosa,” he tells you. He reaches out to touch one finger to your dripping core. “Right here.”
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
“It’s so wet there, Frankie,” you protest weakly. Why would he want to put his mouth on the messiest part of you? You can’t understand it. Frankie just smiles. 
“I know, baby. I wanna taste you.”
You can only whimper in response, Frankie so close now you can feel his warm breath against your folds. He plants one last kiss to the crease of your thigh and then at last, closes the space between his lips and your pussy. 
You feel him lick a thin stripe through the wettest part of you, the slick contact sending an emphatic jolt to every nerve ending your body. He does it again, widening his tongue this time, and your responding gasp is cut off when Frankie fucking moans. What does that mean?
Your head snaps up and you stare down at him in horror. 
“What’s wrong? Does it taste bad?”
Frankie detaches his mouth from your cunt, confusion mapping the crease between his brows.
“Bad?” he repeats. You just blink back at him with uncertainty written all over your face and he seems to recognize you’re being serious. His features soften.
“No, querida,” he insists. “Just tastes like pussy. Really fucking good pussy. Did it feel good?”
You nod–you can’t lie. 
“Good. I’m gonna do it again. Just relax for me, okay?”
He waits until you nod again and your tense muscles have loosened, then he dives forward for a second time.
Now, you trust that the breathy moan he lets out is one of pleasure rather than disgust. It’s not that hard to believe either; Frankie glides his tongue through the seam of your folds with ravenous interest, up and down, in wide circles around your lips and curious flicks over your hole, peeking up at you with each careful ministration to ensure he’s on the right track.
And, Christ, you may not have any frame of reference but it certainly feels like he is. 
It’s so…wet. So dizzying and warm and all-encompassing. Then Frankie dares to spear his tongue inside you–once, twice, a third time–and you keen at the welcome intrusion, moaning out a sound so pornagraphic you could probably rival the woman currently being railed from behind on your TV right now. 
You feel–rather than really see–Frankie smile against you. 
“Does that feel good when I do that?” he asks and then he does it again. 
“Yes, Frankie.”
He hears the silent plea beneath your words and quickly gets back to work. 
With his tongue still dancing over your fluttering hole, Frankie closes his lips. 
And that’s–oh–that’s so much more overwhelming. His mouth consumes your pussy as his tongue laps and lathes at your core, drinking down everything your body gives him. His eyes close and his brows furrow while his lips move hungrily against you and you imagine this is what it would feel like to kiss him–hot and wet and sloppy and perfect. 
He continues like that, making out with your pussy until your hips involuntarily begin to rock up into his mouth in search of more. Frankie groans, sucking at your folds before pulling away with a wet pop. 
“You’re so fucking sweet,” he groans. He gazes bearlily at your pussy, his lips coated with arousal and saliva. You don’t miss the way he drops a hand to his bulge. 
“Oh, fuck,” he sighs. Usually so controlled and composed, Frankie sounds almost delirious now. “Baby, I’m gonna lick your clit now. Yeah?”
“Fuck yeah–yeah, please, Frankie.”
Frankie makes a wild, guttural noise, leaning in to press a kiss into your pussy. 
“Tell me, baby, tell me where you want my tongue.”
But then he’s teasing his mouth over your hole again, making speech nearly impossible as he swirls his tongue around your opening–like a preview of what he’s about to offer the most sensitive part of you. 
Desperation takes over and any lingering nerves fade away.
“My clit, Frankie,” you beg him. “Please lick my clit.”
The order has him moaning against you again, the vibration alone enough to make you dizzy even before he’s gripping both your thighs to spread you open further and his mouth is moving to find purchase over your nub. 
A sound you’ve never heard yourself make before spills from your parted lips as Frankie begins to deftly work your clit with his tongue. Sparks ignite in your belly at the sensation, so different than how it feels to have someone’s hands on you here. It’s slick and it’s intimate and it’s so much more…concentrated this way. Frankie presses into you harder and flattens his tongue, focusing on drawing precise little circles around your clit that have you seeing stars. 
Jesus–did he go to school for this or something? How does he know to apply just the right amount of pressure? How does he never falter in his rhythm or even stop to come up for air? How does it already feel like you could come at any second if he keeps doing what he’s doing right now?
Fully intent on your pleasure, his messy curls frame his flushed cheeks and his hooded eyes. He’s coaxing towards your end like he’s been fucking training for this his entire goddamn life.
You get lost in it, indulge in the feeling and the fact that it’s Frankie doing this for you. Frankie is making you feel this good. Frankie is going to make you come. 
You grab at his hair and push his face into your cunt, past the point of caring if he’d be upset about that as your orgasm blooms hot in your core. Frankie just groans appreciatively, laving at your clit and giving you just that much more when he puckers his lips and sucks at the tiny bundles of nerves. 
“Oh, Frankie, fuck–fuck, do that again–”
-
Bossy. He loves when you get bossy. You’re so close and, apparently, that makes you bossy.
He smiles. He doesn’t hesitate to do as you ask, sucking hungrily at your clit and swallowing down your salty-sweet flavour. When he feels your muscles begin to tighten he offers you his tongue again, sucking and licking, sucking and licking. He thinks about the man on screen earlier and takes a page out of his book, slowly moving his head from side to side as much as he can with your hands in his hair–and, yeah, you seem to like that, if your wild, needy moans and your breathless little gasps are anything to go by. 
He doesn’t want to leave here ever. He wants to drown and die with his face in your cunt and your hands in his hair. He wants his last breath to be coated with your scent so he can be buried in the ground with it, knowing his life had been worthwhile because at least he’d got to have you this way even one fucking time. 
But your pleas are growing stronger and your chest is heaving faster and Frankie knows it can’t last–because you’re going to come. Suddenly, that’s the only thing in the world that matters. 
“Like that, Frankie,” you cry, when he finds a new rhythm with his tongue, broad, coaxing strokes over your twitching pearl. Your eyes snap open and find his at once, beseeching him. “Don’t stop doing that, Frankie–I’m gonna come.”
He hums against you and heeds your orders, never stopping or slowing the movement of his tongue. You chant for him–yesyesyes–and Frankie just hums and hums his encouragement. 
Come on, baby, come on, baby, he thinks. Let me see what you look like when you come for me. Let me know this part of you. 
“Frankie!”
The drawn-out cry of his name is the last warning he gets before your pussy begins to pulse under his tongue. 
Your climax is even more beautiful than he imagined it’d be. 
You arch up into his mouth and his hands are quick to hold you there, licking you through it as you quiver with the force of it. Wetness gushes from your core and Frankie laps at it greedily, drunk on your taste and your sounds and your writhing form above him. 
Years of service to his country, and somehow he thinks this might be his proudest achievement. He’s never felt more gratified than he does watching you fall apart for him right now. 
Meanwhile, Frankie’s cock aches, leaking and hard in his boxers and begging to be touched. He’s already so close, he could probably come too if he just–
With his mouth still closed over your pussy and your body still shaking with the swells of your orgasm, Frankie begins to palm himself furiously through his jeans, chasing his own high before you can come down from yours. 
But it’s too late. You catch him red-handed. 
“Frankie–stop, honey, don’t come like that.” 
You pry him off your soaking cunt and Frankie doesn’t fight you. You’re sitting up, watching him, gaze smouldering and fixed on the hand he’s currently rubbing against his clothed cock. He should be embarrassed but he just wants to come. 
“How, baby?” he asks you brokenly. 
“Take it out.” 
“Fuck, fuck–” 
He hurries to obey, straightening up off the floor and fumbling hastily with his belt buckle. It takes him three tries to get his fingers to cooperate long enough to figure it out, unzipping his jeans and yanking them down his thighs, completely forgetting this is the first time you’re ever going to see his– 
“Oh my god,” you gasp the second his cock is free from his boxers and he’s wrapping a relieving hand around himself. He looks up at you, momentarily concerned until he sees your eyes are trained on his cock. 
And yeah, fine–sue him–his ego blooms for a second, watching your eyes widen at his size, breath leaving you in this adorable little sigh. 
“Frankie, you’re so–” 
“I know,” he interrupts. You share a smile, something so familiar, as Frankie strokes his cock over your cunt, something so decidedly unfamiliar. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna fuck you with it this time.”
This time. Fuck. He hasn’t even finished doing this with you now and he’s already planning when he’s gonna get to do it again. As if he even knows if you want that, as if he’s not leaving again in just a few weeks–
“You can,” you say hurriedly and the offer pulls him off the edge of spiraling and right back into the moment, cock throbbing in his hand as his head falls forward into his chest with a groan. “Frankie, you can fuck me.” 
He shakes his head. 
“Gonna come in two seconds if I do that, babe.”
He’s also not sure he has the self control to fuck you right now without hurting you.
Plus he really is so fucking close. Your fingers explore his belly and Frankie pumps himself faster. He watches in a lustful haze as your hand moves to hover over his cock, almost curious about it. 
“Can I help you, Frankie?” you whisper. Jesus, do you even know how alluring your voice sounds? He’s gonna fucking explode if you keep talking to him like that. 
You lightly touch your fingers to the back of his hand–and he’s never said yes so fast in his life. 
“Yeah–fuck, yeah, baby, you wanna help?”
“Mhm,” you nod, peering up at him sweetly as you take over.
“Oh, shit–fuck,” Frankie rasps the second you wrap your fingers around him. Then you start to stroke him in long, languid pumps and his eyelids involuntarily flutter.
“Yes, baby, just like that,” he sighs. He abandons the urge to come for a moment, letting his eyes slip closed and really trying his best to just savour the feeling of you touching him. His stomach lurches when he feels you swirl your thumb over his slit, smearing wet drops of precum around the head of his cock. His chest warms with something like pride at learning this about you, that you know what you’re doing when you get a cock in your hand. That you’re good at this. 
“Fuck…that’s so good, sweetheart,” he finds himself whispering just because he thinks you deserve to know. 
“Frankie.”
Your voice calls out to him through the fog of bliss and he dares himself to glance down at you. Still working over his length in deep, adoring strokes, you bite your lip and meet his stare with wide, faraway eyes of your own. He cups your cheek in his hand just because he can. 
“Hm?”
You smile and it’s so fucking beautiful and soft and you that he can’t help but smile right back. 
“You made me feel so fucking good,” you tell him earnestly. 
“Yeah?” Frankie strokes your cheekbone with his thumb and you tighten the grip of your fist around his cock. 
“Yeah,” you nod, just as your smile falters in lieu of something darker. “I want–I want you to come for me, Frankie. I want you to come on my pussy.”
“Jesus,” Frankie grits, nodding frantically as he shoos your hand away and takes his cock in his own hand again. “Yeah–yeah, okay.”
The request alone has him hurtling towards release and in a flurry of desperation, he reaches up under your shirt to palm at one of your tits with his free hand while he concentrates the pumps of his fist to the head of his cock. Your head falls back behind you when he gets one of your nipples between his fingers and you moan so pretty for him.
Fucking hell, he’s not gonna last.  
“You want me to come on your pussy, baby?” 
“Mhm.”
That pleading lilt in your voice makes tension coil in his core, heat rising up the back of his neck. He can hear the sound of his own heady grunting as he strokes and strokes himself for you, eager and impatient to give you what you’d asked for.
“Whose pussy is it?” he growls. 
He doesn’t know why he says it. Maybe part of him just needs to know he’s really claimed this experience for you. That no one’s ever going to make you feel good as he had. 
Your eyes lock and you tell him exactly what he needs to hear–
“Y-yours, Frankie. It’s your pussy.”
“Yeah…yeah, it is–fuck!”
He comes with blinding force, his cock twitching violently in his grasp as he paints your mound and lower belly with white ropes of spend. Huffed breaths pass through his lips as the waves pass over him, his knees aching against your floor as he shudders and groans and milks himself over your pussy. His pussy. 
Once he’s emptied himself completely, his body still quaking with residual aftershocks, he hooks a hand behind your neck to pull you in closer. Sated, your features shrouded in bliss and gratitude…Frankie’s always loved you, but he’s never loved you more than he does right now. 
“Mi vida,” he breathes, clutching your face between his palms. “Can I kiss you?”
And even though it’s beyond backwards, to share your first kiss with your tang on his tongue and his cum on your skin, you nod, leaning into him willingly as he finally, finally presses his lips to yours. 
Somehow, even after waiting years for this, he finds it in himself to kiss you slow. You don’t seem to be in any rush either, sighing as you part your lips for him and let him spill his tongue between them. You press yourself closer, wrap your arms around his neck to deepen it and a glimmering warmth trickles down his spine. 
Breathless and charged, there’s a change in atmosphere, and suddenly everything feels painfully fragile. Like the moment he breaks this kiss, the earth will crack open under him and he’ll be pulled down into its molten core and it’ll never be like this again. 
So he just kisses and kisses and kisses you, finding his way back onto the couch and holding you hostage against his lips. But you make no attempt at escape. You just mould your lips against his and fist your hands into the fabric of his shirt and kiss him right back with just as much force and finality. 
He wants to tell you everything, but he doesn’t know how or if that would even be the right thing to do. 
I love you. I still have to leave. 
No. He can’t do that to you. 
“See how good your pussy tastes?” he asks between kisses instead. You laugh against his lips, but when he opens his eyes to see your face, he finds your eyes are wet with tears.
Shit.
“You know that’s not why I’m kissing you so much, Frankie.”
Reluctantly, he breaks away. He holds your face between his hands, his lips hovering just above yours. 
“Why are you?” he whispers. Is it the same reason he can’t stop? Is it that same feeling of impermanence he can’t seem to shake? 
The tears in your eyes spill over and pool in the webs of his fingers. 
“Because I’ve always wanted to,” you tell him shakily. And as quickly as his heart swells with the confession does it deflate with your next words, ��And I don’t know when I’ll get to do it again.”
Frankie sighs, his forehead colliding with yours. 
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, shaking his head. For so many things but mostly–
“I’m sorry I made you wait so long. I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay, Frankie,” you assure him, scratching your fingernails into his scalp and slanting your head to steal another salty-wet kiss. He thinks he feels you smile, and it almost soothes the ache. “It’s okay now.”
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satorunigojaloo · 2 months
Text
It’s just a mission, what could go wrong?
Teen!Gojo Satoru x teenf!reader
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(I guess it’s au since geto is still at jujutsu tech and Gojo and reader are above 18)
just two idiots who’s relationship develop, revealing feelings they had denied for long until they’re forced to be alone together
Genre: fluff, friends to lovers, only one bed trope, mission, slight humour? (Dunno I think I was funny at some points)
Warning: sexual themes(suggestive), mention of genitalia, alcohol consumption, masturbation, mention of blood/injury and swearing (because Gojo strike me as a person who would curse a lot)
AN: if I can shove as many clichés into one fic, then I’ll do precisely that. Read at your own warning.
This took painfully long to write, massive editing, a lot of proofreading, moments where it didn’t save and I had to rewrite… sigh
It’s my first story where I have an actual plot a part from the relationship part, I am personally pleased with this story. There might be some grammar mistakes, incoherent stuff (because I had to rewrite and edit)
Wordcount: 20.2k (phew, sorry)
———————————————————————
"You probably wonder why I summoned the two of you here and not Suguru and Shoko as well?" Two hesitant nods confirms that’s what’s indeed their thoughts.
Yaga take out a piece of paper and continue. "This missions is quite unusual. You will go undercover to investigate the circumstances. Everything you need to know is on this paper"
Quickly you snap the paper from your teachers hand before your white haired teammate had the chance. Scanning the paper, your eyes widen at one particular sentence.
"The two sorcerers will work undercover and act as a young couple on vacation."
The paper gets slightly crumbled as your fingers twitch and a curious head pops over your shoulder to read.
An audible gasp is heard and you turn slightly to meet his blue eyes, staring back at you with equal fear.
"Fuck"
-
The sun barely up and the streets almost empty, the pair walk to the train station. An awkward silence hangs over you and the distance between you bigger than usual.
It’s not that you and Satoru aren’t friends, but you rarely hung out alone. So when Suguru and Shoko aren’t around you tend to be less talkative.
Which is why it’s extra awkward now, because you and Satoru are both extroverts and can talk forever with anyone about anything. Apparently not to each other, and the mission didn’t help either.
"Did you say anything?" You turn to look at him and shake your head. "No, why?" Shooting him a questioning look.
"Oh, thought I heard something. Never mind." Responding with a simple ‘ah’ before the silence fall over you again.
Close to the train station now you check your pockets one last time to make sure you brought everything you need. "Satoru, do you remember which train?"
The boy scratches his head and look around, with the advantage that he easily can look around due to his height. "Yes, I see it. Come hurry!" He grab your wrist and pull you with him through the crowd.
Being on the shorter side you choose to blindly follow him, counting on his height and six eyes finds the way.
You’re in luck, because just as you enter the train the doors close. You place your luggage’s in the storing area and find someplace to sit.
Since it’s still early in the morning and this train going out to the country, not many people are on board. Satoru point at the four-man seating area with a table in the middle.
He convinces you to let him sit facing the right way because apparently ‘the strongest’ might experience motion sickness.
Both of you wanting to sit by the window so your feet are fighting for room as you’re sitting opposite of each other.
In the end he won with his long limbs and you press yours up against the wall under the windowsill. Seeking some support from the air vent since you can’t reach down.
The silence fill your space again, and you quietly pull up some sandwiches from your backpack. Handing him one he grin and thanks you.
This time the silence is comfortable, just eating and looking out of the window. None of you aware how both of you glanced at the other when they weren’t looking.
You feel your eyes about to close, but the moment Satoru’s phone rings you’re pulled awake.
"Yo, Suguru! Missing me already?" You place your index finger over your lips to tell your mission partner to lower his voice.
He rolls his eyes and point with his eyes to the empty wagon and continue yappering. You mute him out by putting on your headset and look out the window again, chin resting in your palm and you try to sleep.
Your relaxing moment is ruined quickly as you feel a pair of feet kick yours. "Do you have a charger? My phone battery died." He ignores your glaring. In order to keep the peace you search in your backpack and sigh.
"Shit, sorry. I forgot mine." He look at you from above his glasses not believing you. He grab the backpack himself and start to search it.
"How could you forget to pack a charger?" Pouting as he hand you back the backpack.
"How could you forget to pack one?" Annoyed you snap at him and pull the backpack a little harsher than he expected from his grip.
You’re on your third attempt to get some sleep, but the sound of Satoru’s fingers tapping the table and his feet moving restless making it impossible.
"Satoru, for the love of god. Can you please just be quiet?" Through your one open eye you see him cross his arms over his chest and pouts.
-
"Psst, hey. Wake up." So this time he did give you more than five minutes before annoying you. According to your watch Satoru had managed to survive for twenty minutes.
Pretending you don’t hear him only made it worse, fingers began poking your cheek repeatedly. "Oh you’re awake, good."
Satoru ignoring the fact that he’s the one waking you up smile in joy. "I’m bored."
In the end, the best way to make this train ride bearable was to just entertain the boy. Which turned out to actually be more fun.
Luckily no other passenger had seated themselves in this wagon, so you and Satoru could talk and laugh.
He had brought a card deck with him and tried his best to teach you a game. Which he didn’t remember well and you suspect he was making stuff up.
"Cheater!" You faux pout at him and jump over the table to steal the cards in his hands. Satoru pull his arm behind him and you stretch out to reach them.
As your shorter hands try to reach his longer, you fall into his lap and you hear Satoru’s ‘huff’ when your whole weight land on his groin.
Both freeze and stare at each other in shock, he winces slightly from the pain as your knee is planted into his most precious area.
Your nose tip touches his and you both turn to a hundred shades of red before you wiggle away. Adding more pressure with your knee and Satoru’s painful high pitch squeal fill the room.
Standing up you look as the poor boy sinks down into a fetal position with his hands covering his groin. You swear there’s tears in his eyes, but the black tinted glasses made it impossible to know for sure.
"Satoru, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?" His face planted down into the seat and his trembling arm up to give you a thumbs up.
"I’ll… live." You can’t help but giggle a little at his voice still in a high pitch.
For some reason your giggles fill Satoru with a fluttering feeling and he wants nothing more than to turn those giggles into laughs.
Mission succeeds when he in an over dramatic sense toss around in his seat groaning in pain. "Gonna call you the nutcracker from this day on."
"Then that makes you Barbie!" You shoot in between the laughs.
-
Arriving at your destination you look around, there’s actually a lot of people coming off the train.
The station is crowded and you do your best to not lose Satoru while at the same time you try to make sure you don’t lose your luggage.
Only a second looking down and he’s out of sight. In panic you look around searching the crowd for a white head. Reaching for your phone you dial his number only to be met with the voicemail.
"Right, his phone died." muttering to yourself. You decide to just get out of the station and hope he does the same.
His voice suddenly heard in the distance and you turn to the source. As you close in on him you make out what he actually has been shouting.
"FIND THE HALFLING!"
You run toward him and place a firm hand over his mouth, glaring at him for calling you a halfling.
His warm breath tickle the skin of your palm from his giggles. You hear him mumbling and remove your hand.
Dramatically inhaling some air, Satoru smirks at you. "There’s the little hobbit." You regret moving your hand.
"Just teasing ya, come on let’s go. According to this map sign, we should be able to walk to the ryokan."
-
Sweating, panting and dying, you finally walk the last steps of the long staircase. Yes, according to the map it’s a very short distance, but it didn’t mention the hundredths of stairs.
Down on your knees and feeling like you’re going to puke, a teasing chuckle haunting you. You look up and sweat drip in your eyes making Satoru’s silhouette groggy.
Completely unfazed after climbing the stairs, not even a droplet of sweat or any irregular breathing. "I hate you."
"No you don’t, now come on. We’re here." He pull you up and use his sleeve to wipe the sweat from your face before adjusting your clothes. And then the unexpected, he kiss your forehead and intertwine his hand with yours.
"Satoru, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?" Trying to pull your hand out of his and concealing how flustered you are.
He look at you with a serious face and whisper in your ear "mission starts now", before walking with you in his grip. Doing your best to compose yourself you follow suit.
The ryokan is small and cute, it’s a typical traditional inn with available bathhouse. The cherry blossom trees are close to blooming and you hope to see how their pink leaves paint the landscape beautifully.
Satoru notice how you’re struggling to focus and leans into your ear "just follow my lead and when we’re done checking in we’ll start planning." A gentle squeeze before letting your hand go.
At the reception a young boy greets you, not older than maybe ten. "Welcome, how can I help you?" He’s polite and mature for his age.
"We’ve booked a room for two, the name is ‘Yaga’ if I remember correctly." You hope it’s unnoticeable how you cringe at Satoru’s sudden politeness.
"Ah yes, I know the name. Yaga is a family friend of ours and come her often. So when he told us his niece and her boyfriend would stay we made sure to have the best room available." While the boy talks and hands out pamphlets you notice he was standing on a stool.
Satoru notice too and you exchange a ‘we’re definitely laughing at this later’ look.
Thanking the boy as he hands you the key about to walk, he shouts after you. His true age suddenly showing when he can’t conceal his excitement.
"Come here." He gesture you to come closer as he whisper in your ears in a childish tone. "Not many people know about this, but there’s a really cool natural hot spring further up the mountain. I only share this information with the cool guests."
Snickering in content as he waves you off and you and Satoru just smile at how cute and silly the boy looked.
-
You’re standing behind Satoru when he opens the door, his form still and he’s quiet. You try to jump up behind him to see what made the strongest sorcerer freeze on the spot, but with no luck.
"Satoru, what is it? Move—" you muster all your strength into pushing him into the room, Satoru manage to stay on his feet.
Just like him, you also freeze on the spot. Eyes widening the more you scan the room and take in the sight before you.
You hear him drop his bag on the ground and clear his throat. "I know we’re supposed to be a couple, but what the fuck did Yaga tell them?"
The room itself is decorated traditionally with deep oak linings against creamy white walls. Floors covered in mint green square carpets and a small kitchen area to the left. A typical tatami room.
In the middle of the room is a sitting area with table and pillows with view out of the huge glass windows. The climb up to the ryokan proves to be worth it, the view from your room is magical.
Far up on the mountainside you could see over the city below and the ocean further. That landscape is framed by a mixture of green and pink trees and a nice garden.
There’s only one shared futon in the far right corner, covered in rose petal formed like a heart. "Yeah, I wonder what Yaga told them…" you mumble and force yourself to move.
"Let’s sort out the sleeping arrangement later, I need to shower." Looking around you notice the room did not have a shower and your brows frown.
"Satoru, I’m going to ask the receptionist about the bathroom. If you’re still standing there like an idiot I’ll knee your balls again."
You close the door behind you, leaving a very broken Gojo Satoru alone. He didn’t know why his heart had clenched itself at the sight of the futon. Unable to move his mind was racing through so many thought and he felt a mental collapse.
The worst part is he can’t call Suguru for aid and he has to figure out himself why he feels all ticklish inside.
Satoru came to the conclusion that it must be a delayed motion sickness. It takes him a few minutes after you left the room for him to regain control over his limbs.
-
"Sorry, miss! I forgot to inform you about our shared bathroom arrangement. The toilets and showers are connected with the bathhouse facility." Thanking the boy you make your way back to your room.
Glad to see that Satoru had moved from his spot and you find him sitting on the porch outside in a sun-bed. It’s still early spring and the spring breeze makes you shiver.
"You shouldn’t leave the door open like this, you’re letting the cold inside." You must’ve interrupted his deep thoughts because the moment you spoke he jump up from his seat.
"Fuck, you’re back already? Sorry about that." His eyes linger in the horizon a moment longer before he looks up at you.
"So, where’s the toilets and showers?" You lay down on the sun-bed next to him, only divided by a small table.
His face light up at the mention of bathhouse. "Oh let’s go there, would be nice with a warm bath, yeah? Him, is there something on my face?" Your eyes must’ve lingered in him longer than you wanted and you turn away.
"N-no." You mumble and stare straight ahead ignoring his questioning expression. "A bath would be nice." Agreeing to his proposal and you walk together to the bathhouse.
-
Before going into the bath you took a shower cleaning off the sweat from your walk earlier. It’s an outdoor bath build over a natural hot spring.
You wrap the small towel around your form, barely giving any coverage. You didn’t mind because you wouldn’t need it when you enter the water.
Slipping out of your footwear you take off your towel and neatly fold it on a bench. The air is cold and a slight fog hangs around from the hot bath water.
"Wow, you’re not the shy type, eh?"
Turning to the voice only a few metres away from you, your eye twitch in unison with your mouth. With only his head above water he look at you with blushed cheeks. Probably the heat from the waters, but the slight flicker of shyness in his eyes gave him away.
Your eyes flicker between him and the towel messily spread on the ground instead of neatly placed on a bench. "…Satoru?"
"Are you naked?" A wide grin spread on his mouth and he nods.
"Like the day I was born." You roll your eyes so hard it almost hurts and you put more distance between you.
"Guess it’s a shared bath." Satoru might be a smart and clever boy, but sometimes he’s just so slow. You don’t know if he’s being dumb on purpose or is actually an idiot.
"Good work figuring that out, Einstein."
There it is again, the awkward silence you both had overwon on the train ride. You let the water cover you all up to your nose and you sneak a peak over at him.
His eyes are closed and he’s leaning his head back on the wall behind him. His hair is flat from the damp and bangs sticking to his forehead.
The water reach his shoulders and upper part of his chest and you take the opportunity to admire him while his eyes are still closed.
"You know I can see you even with my eyes closed, perv." Shooting you a look with his one eye before closing it again.
"If that’s the case then you’re the perv. Perv!" He snorts and turn his face in your direction, smirking. "That made no sense."
Suddenly feeling aware of the fact that Satoru can see your naked form you cover yourself underneath the water.
Satoru notice, but decide to not say anything. A small part of him is hoping that if he doesn’t confirm your theory you will eventually remove your hands.
Maybe he is the pervert here.
"So… the mission?" Your voice quiet. Satoru turn to you and hold his hand behind his ear to say ‘can’t hear you’ and you move closer to him.
"The mission." With only a meter between you now, you shout again.
"No need to shout, I can hear you perfectly fine." In your mind you go through different scenarios on how to drown him successfully in the bath.
"Alright, so the mission, right. So according to the paper we got from Yaga-sensei, there have been abnormal occurrences. People go missing, weird sounds at night and animals fleeing the mountains and woods."
You nod to tell him to continue.
"I thought it was strange that we had to go undercover for this mission and not go straight at the curse, but after my phone died and I had to be alone with my thought…" you blankly stare at him, telling him to get to the point.
"The curse is among the villagers here. It’s intelligent. Which means in order for us to succeed we have to blend in and quietly investigate. So as long as we mask our cursed energy like we’ve done so far we should be fine."
You’re impressed by how much Satoru had thought about this, revealing his sharp mind.
"From the small time since we arrived, have you noticed anything?" You didn’t know you were closing the distance or notice how you were now sitting right next to him.
With no plans to point it out, Satoru indulge himself in your closeness and answer your questions.
"I picked up cursed energy in the area above the ryokan, deeper into the woods. So we should have our little ‘date’ there tomorrow."
Giggling at the way he said ‘date’ you’re about to playfully shove his shoulder, but he moved on instinct making you fall right into his lap. Again.
Looking for something to lean on you accidentally grab something soft. Before realising what this actually was you give it a squeeze and it twitched slightly in your grip.
"Oh my—" you throw yourself away from him. At that moment you feel as if you would die, and the expression on Satoru’s face told you he felt the same.
"What’s up with you and my dick?" He almost sobs in embarrassment and quickly climbs up from the bath and walk to the showers.
You’re left alone with your thoughts and you look down at your hand that only moments earlier had groped your mission partners penis.
Feelings of guilt and embarrassment filling you up, but for some reason you start to laugh. Hearing yourself laughing like a maniac as you remember the utter terror plastered on Satoru’s face.
-
Careful movements when you enter the room, now, guilt occupying your mind and you find Satoru laying on the sun-bed again under e blanket and a cup of tea.
You walk to the (again open) door and you stand before him. He’s obviously avoiding to look at you, his cheeks still with a hint of pink.
"Satoru, I’m sorry." No answer. You move to be in his eyesight only for him to look another way.
"Come on, don’t be like that. I’m truly sorry." Frustrated that he didn’t say anything you lay down on your knees and starts to beg.
"Gojo Satoru, please forgive me for touching your penis without your consent. I promise it was an accident and I’m sorry."
"You forgot about the part where you squeezed it…" barely a mumble, but you caught his words.
"Of course yes. Sorry for not only grabbing your penis, but also slightly squeezing it in the process."
He’s silence for a while, you still have your head glued to the ground in anticipation. His sigh tells you that you can look up.
"I forgive you, but please try and fight your urges to touch my dick anymore on this mission."
His words make you fluster, but you swallow the feeling. "I will try my best to not touch your penis again, Gojo-sama." You feel relief when he giggle at your response, thankful the awkward moment finally over.
"Tea?" You nod and he stands up to prepare another cup. Watching the sunset together in a comfortable silence before you go inside.
Daylight no longer illuminating your room, you search around for a light switch. Whoever built this place must’ve been against the idea of easy access to one.
Underneath the kitchen cabinets you find one and turn it on. The light is dim, but enough for you to find your way around the room.
The only sink is the one in the kitchen and you brush your teeth. Wondering where Satoru had disappeared.
You took the opportunity to change into your sleepwear and then you remember the shared futon. Looking in closets and cabinets in hope for a spare futon, you sigh in defeat when you find nothing.
Satoru enters the room wearing a white t-shirt and loose fitting black pants, he look at your defeated form on the floor. "Did you die?"
Groaning you lift your head up to meet his gaze and point at the futon. "There’s no extra futon, can you go to the reception and ask for one?"
"Oh, yeah I was just down there and it’s closed for today. I can probably just bring one of the sun-beds inside and sleep on it." Touched by his offer, you shake your head. It would only be worse if he didn’t get proper rest on this mission.
"No, we can share. Let’s just remove those damn rose petals." Together you pick off the petals and place them in a bowl.
There’s only one duvet on the futon, you go to grab the thin blanket Satoru had been wrapped in earlier. Turning off the kitchen lights on your way back to the sleeping area.
"You can have the duvet." Smiling awkwardly at him you wrap yourself in the blanket and turn your back to him. You mumble ‘good night’ to him.
"Night."
-
Satoru had lost count on how many hours had passed since you said your ‘good nights’. He felt nauseous and lightheaded from all the thoughts circling inside his head.
He didn’t know this mission would prove to be this straining before it even began. At first he’d been excited because he knew you were fun to hang around.
But he was surprised at how tense and awkward it had been on your way to the train station. Usually the two of you laughed and cracked jokes all the time, but he can’t remember you spending any time just the two of you.
Your classmates Suguru and Shoko were always hanging around with you and just now did he realise how much their presence affected the group dynamic.
Satoru felt more nervous around you, without his best friend behind him he struggled to know how to behave. Now he thinks twice before daring to say anything, terrified of how you might react. Which is unusual.
It’s annoying that he cares about your reactions, when he never before bothered to. The feeling he got when you laughed at him in the train was something he wants to feel again.
Tossing and turning he look over at your sleeping form. You’re laying on your back now and low snores escape your half open mouth.
He could see the goosebump on your shoulders form and the way you slightly shiver between snores. The duvet is big enough for you to share without having to touch each other, so he covers your form with half of it before he turn his back to you.
Thankful when he feels himself drift off into sleep, this mission would only be worse if he had to be sleep deprived on top of everything that has already happened.
-
You wake up, still on your side of the mattress thankfully. Feeling the warmth of the duvet over you, you look at the man next to you.
The duvet was larger than you thought and even when you were on each side of the mattress the duvet covered you both with no problem.
A tiny smile tug at your lips when you figure he must’ve covered you in it. You remember how you shivered before falling asleep, but too embarrassed to admit it.
Satoru is sleeping on his stomach, face turned away from you and his arms underneath his pillow. The duvet had slipped down and now resting at the curve of his round butt.
You bite hard on your bottom lip as punishment for admiring his ass like a… pervert. For some reason watching him like that made you feel something. Not quite sure what, but it’s annoying and you huff as you turn on your back.
Your eyes look around the room now lit up from the faint rays of morning sun, you almost want to scream when you see a light switch right next to the door.
Taking a mental note where it is you look up at the roof, but somehow can’t stop yourself from sneaking another glance at his sleeping form.
The fact that Gojo Satoru is handsome is very obvious, you’d be a blind person to not see it. This however doesn’t mean anything, it’s just a matter of fact and not your opinion.
You hear him snoring into the pillow and it’s almost soothing, until it sounded like he’s about to choke. Abruptly he lift his head and inhale deeply before exhaling.
Observing him with a humoured expression and a snort giving you away, Satoru turn to you with the biggest morning face you’d ever seen on a person.
His eyes puffy and marks after the pillow on his face. He didn’t seem fully awake as he stare at you and you cover your mouth with a hand.
"Shut the fuck up." He mumbles before his head fall into the pillow again.
You sneak up from the futon, the duvet sliding off and you take one last look at his well sculpted butt before covering him.
He’ll never know about this.
Sadly, his six eyes saw more than you knew and Satoru found himself smiling into his pillow before drifting off to sleep again.
-
"It’s really cold outside." Huffing into your jacket as you walk up the forest path. "I wonder if the cherry blossom trees will bloom while we’re here."
You’re rambling away to fill up the silence between you, Satoru’s only giving you half heartedly answers, not actually paying attention.
"Sometimes I like to put on sexy underwear underneath my uniform, it makes me feel stronger when fighting curses."
"Sure, same here."
That confirms how out of it he actually is, you halt your movements and watch as he continue to walk.
Picking up a pine cone you toss it and hit him right at the back of his head. "Hey! What the fuck was that?"
"Sorry." You shrug with a grin on your face and he shoots you an annoyed look from behind his glasses. "Bully." He mumbles and turn his back to you and starts walking again.
You run up to his side and look at him curiously, wondering why he’s acting to weird and distant all of the sudden. For some reason you’re scared he’s angry at you.
"Satoru?" Gently tugging at his sleeve he reply with a ‘hn?’
"Are you okay?" He sigh and stops.
"Just a headache, i’m fine." Giving you a reassuring smile that didn’t seem genuine at all.
Deciding not to dwell on it more you walk in silence. You groan when a long staircase reveals itself before you, your legs still aching after yesterday.
"Can we take a little break?" Satoru nods and sits down on the step, long legs stretching out before him.
You sit next to him and notice how long his legs are compared to yours.
"Sorry for being so quiet, it’s just that I’ve overused my six eyes and since I cant turn them off it’s just really draining." He pinch between his brows with his fingers before rubbing his temples.
With little knowledge of the six eyes, all you know it’s a very rare gift and together with the limitless makes whoever wields it incredibly strong and powerful.
"We can go back and you can rest a little. Yaga-sensei said we had a week to complete this mission." None of you commented how your hand rubs his knee or that he slightly lean his knee more into your touch.
Even with his black glasses you could see how he was torn, he wanted nothing more than to just lay down with a blindfold on and sleep. Still, they were on a mission and they’d risk prolonging it if they turn back now.
"Let’s just finish scouting this area and then we’ll go back."
The steps felt less agonising than those yesterday, maybe because you didn’t have any luggage. Or because Satoru had been behind you and basically pushing you up as he walked.
"Fuck. Didn’t think someone so short would be this heavy." You give him credit for trying at least, but his tiredness too obvious in his voice.
You turn to look at him, finally on eye level with him because of the stairs. "Because I’m pure muscles you see." Flexing a scrawny arm at him which snuck out a little laugh from him.
"Yeah, yeah miss muscles. Turn that pretty little body of yours around and continue walking." Before you could do as told he had already spun you around, his hands lingering on your hips before they’re gone.
Continuing walking up you smile when you arrive at the last step. There’s a bench and you drag your companion to it and force him to sit and enjoy the view with you.
"Shoko and Suguru would’ve loved this place." You murmur and he agrees. "It’s really weird that they’re not here with us." Pointing out the elephant in the room for the first time.
You can’t see his eyes, but you feel him looking at you. "Yeah, I wonder what they’re doing right now."
"Want to call them and ask?" You pull up your phone and throw it to him. Out of sympathy for him you had avoided using your phone since his died, so you still had enough power to make a few phone calls. Turning the phone off between usage to save the battery.
Finally a heartfelt smile on his lips again and he excitedly dial Suguru’s number. Even if it’s saved in your contact, Satoru knows his best friend’s number by heart.
"Suguru! I’m alive. We’re alive. Sorry for just disappearing yesterday, my phone died and then—" Satoru looks at you asking for permission to walk further away to speak with his friend in privacy and you nod. "Just tell Suguru I said hi!" You shout after him.
-
Suguru had just finished a mission and is walking back to school when he see you calling him. He already knows that it was Satoru and smile when he answers.
Being Gojo Satoru’s best friend had its ups and downs. The dark haired boy found out early on that his friend was bad at understanding basic human behaviour.
Listening to Satoru try to explain these weird bodily occurrences and unable to figure out what the cause of them were. Suguru found it amusing how dense his friend could be at times.
His friend just described the feelings of being in love and somehow turn it into motion sickness or climate changes was hilarious. Suguru could only chuckle and he decides to let his friend figure this out himself. He couldn’t be that stupid.
"Ah, but Suguru I gotta go, my mission partner says hi as well. She demands her phone back so gotta go— oof, hey! I was just about to hang u—"
The call ended and Suguru shake his head, he couldn’t wait for you to come back. It was quiet without you two idiots.
-
"Thanks for the borrow." He toss the phone at you and you gracefully capture it, turning it off before placing it in your pocket.
"How are they doing back home?" Satoru in a much better mood talk about his conversation with Suguru, leaving out the parts about his ongoing motion sickness. He knew you’d only worry about him.
A spike of strong cursed energy starts to spread around behind you, you’re tempted to turn around, but that would only blow your cover. Satoru’s six eyes to see for the both of you and you feel safe knowing he’s there.
You feel him lean into you and wrap an arm around your shoulders, his warmth inviting and shelter you from the mountain draft. Your head rests on his chest and his heartbeats soothes your nerves.
The ominous aura is like a coat hanging over you and you do your best to seem unbothered. He pulls you closer to him, the touch welcoming, his hand combing through your hair.
"There’s something watching us from behind those trees." He whisper into your ear and a shiver runs down your spine, unsure if it’s from his warm breath or the slight fear running through your veins.
From behind it must look like he’s kissing you and you fall into the role of girlfriend to discreetly let him know that you want nothing more than to leave.
"Satoru-kun, you’re such a tease." Giggling as you nuzzle your nose into his neck. "We should wait until we’re in our room."
A little taken aback by your sudden acting, but he quickly follow your lead. "Sorry, princess. You’re just so cute." He turn his head to kiss your hair and discreetly glance into the bushes.
So quick it was impossible for the naked eye to capture, before looking forward again. "What do you say we go back to the ryokan and enjoy ourselves a warm bath? You’re shivering babe."
Relieved when he understood what you want and you may have pushed your luck when the next words exit your mouth. "Only if you carry me down the stairs, Satoru-kun."
You felt a pinch on your arm, he’s clearly displeased by your suggestion, but because of the situation he couldn’t deny it. Snickering inwardly as he knees in front of you, offering you his back.
"Yay, piggyback rides!" He huffs when you jump on him and wrap your arms around his neck. His arms grab your thighs hoisting you up in a comfortable position before your legs rest around his slim waist.
The further down the stairs you went you could feel the cursed energy slowly disappear. Satoru didn’t hesitate to drop you on the ground the moment he knew the curse couldn’t see you anymore.
"Hey, that hurt!" Pouting at him, but Satoru couldn’t care less about your pain. "That’s what you get for forcing me to carry your heavy ass down the stairs."
You try to look innocent, but your little devilish smirk gave you away. Standing up you’re about to walk when something heavy weights you down.
Gojo fucking Satoru with his almost two metre length now cradling your back like a little (huge) monkey. "My turn." you were thankfully done with the stairs and you decide that you’ll show him true strength.
His feet almost touching the ground and you constantly readjust your grip to not drop him. Even how tempting it was to return the favour.
Satoru is actually impressed that you carried him the rest of the way and like a koala he wrapped himself around you, his head resting on top of yours.
The migraine that had been boiling since this morning start to kick in and he close his eyes. Trusting you to get both of you back.
Burying his nose into your hair and try his best to sneak in a little sniff, not because he’s a pervert — it’s just the smell of your shampoo is really nice. No other reason.
"Satoru, we’re here."
"You liar, we’re not inside our room." You’re tempted to drop him at his childish remark, but you knew he’s struggling with a headache and decide that he’ll get away this time, but only this time.
"Welcome back! How was your hike?" The boy you met yesterday smiles from behind the desk. You had learned his name to be Yun and he’s the grandson of the owners.
The ryokan had been in the family for many years, according to his grandparents all the way back to the heian era, but they had no documentation to prove that statement.
However it’s a great way to lure in tourists and during peak season they were usually swamped.
"Good day, Yun. It was a lovely hike, however the amount of stairs nearly killed me." You laugh politely and adjust your grip on the freeloader on your back.
"Did you guys see the natural hot springs? They are pretty close to the bench at the top of the stairs." You feel Satoru twitch a little at the boys words and you frown.
"We only stopped by the bench, my boyfriend isn’t feeling well so we decided to go back."
You say goodbye to Yun and drag yourself and Satoru along to your room, he’s humming in your ear in delight at the sight of your door.
The moment you close the door behind you, Satoru slides off your back and down to the floor, the migraine too painful now that he allowed himself to relax.
"Can you help me to the futon?" His voice weak and it’s obvious how much of his pride it took to ask you that favour.
He leans on you and you help him kick off his shoes before walking him to the futon. He search his backpack and pull out bandages and painkillers.
You run to kitchen and pour a glass of water for him, almost as if you read his mind. He thanks you and swallow the painkillers and remove his sunglasses. He hope to be able to lay down and rest before the nausea kicks in.
"Sorry, but I’m going to be out of it for a few hours. Hope you don’t mind." With precise movements he wrap the bandage over his eyes, now in only his t-shirt and boxers. Pulling the duvet over his head to keep as much light out.
You hope that some rest would help him, this mission will fail without him. With a frown you observe the faint grunts from underneath the duvet.
"I’m going to the bathhouse, you just relax. Anything else I can do before I leave?"
"Could you open the door to the porch? And cover any light source?" You do as he told, his voice giving you no indication he’s in the mood for any jokes.
"Thank you." His voice soft and you smile at how sweet and polite he can be. You close the door behind you and walk over to the bathhouse.
-
This time there were other guests here and you feel a little self conscious potentially being naked in front of strangers. Luckily there’s only a group of old ladies chatting in a corner.
"Oh, what a young and beautiful girl we have here. Are you the one with that handsome boy?" Despite their questions being very direct and private, you sense only kindness.
"Yes, I’m with the tall boy with the sunglasses."
They’re closer to eighty, but your answer make them squeal like teenagers. "Oh come join us!"
At first you were hesitant to join them, but as the conversation starts to flow you’re finding the company enjoyable.
Being an extrovert by nature, you didn’t mind chatting up strangers. Which is probably why you were sent on this mission alongside Satoru.
In order for an undercover mission to succeed, you’d need to be able to act natural and open. People tend to be suspicious of those who stay quiet or act mysterious.
"Neh, did you hear about those disappearances?" One of the ladies whisper, her friend shoves her shoulder gently to stop her from scaring you.
"If she had she and her boyfriend probably wouldn’t have come here." Shooting her friend a strict frown.
Curiousity taking over you as you indulge further into the topic. "Disappearances? What do you mean?"
The three women exchange looks, contemplating if they should tell you or not. Nodding at each other, one of them speak.
"During the last couple of months, an eerie shadow started to linger over this mountain and in that time people have been disappearing. Young couples." She stop for a second "young couples like you and your companion."
"Does anyone know what it is?" Cursing yourself for not saying ‘who’ it is, because any normal person would assume it’s humans and not some supernatural beings.
"No, but they say somewhere around the mountains natural hot springs a silhouette of a child wanders around. It’s a bad omen to see it."
You felt chills all over your body, nothing’s creepier than children walking around in the fucking woods.
"Oooh, scary! Luckily I have my big and strong boyfriend to keep me safe." You faux squeal before laughing, the ladies laugh with you and they blush at the thought of your handsome boyfriend.
"You really are one lucky girl, when I saw you two yesterday arrive at the ryokan I couldn’t help but admire you. Such a pretty girl and a sexy ma—" her friend again shoves her in the side. Apparently she was the chatty one, you take notes to make sure you ask her if you want to know more.
"Ah yes, they truly look perfect together. Reminds me of me and my late husband." The other chips in.
"Do you guys know if there’s happened anything recently? Me and Satoru-kun was planning on going to those hot spring during our trip, but now I don’t know." You should get an award for your acting.
"It’s been over a month now since last time, but that’s mostly because young couples tend to avoid coming here now." A sad look on her face as she continues.
"I remember this ryokan used to be filled with young couples in love, especially during the spring season. Now it’s mostly us old folks reminiscing their past and soaking in the bathhouse."
You place a soothing hand on her shoulder and smiles, she probably thought about her late husband.
In an attempt to find an excuse to say goodbye you thank the sun for setting. "I have to go back to my boyfriend, thanks a lot for the chat."
"Be careful and don’t go out when it’s dark outside." She meant well, but it was still spooky the way she said it. Old ladies had a tendency to sound scary even when they don’t intend to.
"Oh! Don’t forget to come to the party being held in a few days! A lot of people from town are coming so you’ll have a chance to chat up younger folks." You thank the woman for the information and when you walk past the lobby you ask Yun about it. He hands you a brochure, nodding politely at him.
-
Back in your room, Satoru is still in his little ‘coma’ and you tiptoe your way to the kitchen. Setting the kettle on to make yourselves some tea. While the water boils you walk over to him and you poke his cheek lightly.
"Are you still alive?"
He grunts and you see him frown underneath the bandages. "Yes." He didn’t sound sleepy, only annoyed.
"Did your little therapy session help?"
"A little."
He sits up and remove the bandages before joining you in the sitting area and gladly accept the tea. You watch as he adds not one, not two and not three, but five sugar cubes to it.
"That’s basically just syrup at this point." The corner of his mouth twitch at your comment. Taking a sip from his sweet sugary tea he peak at you and winks.
"You said you’ve learned something? Care to share with the class?"
He seems to be in better shape now, judging by the lighter tone in his voice, less restraint when he speaks. You’re glad, this missions would fail without him.
You share everything you learned from the ladies and Satoru listens intently and he drink every single word just like the tea before him. His facial expression change as he chews on the new information.
Satoru’s reaction is the same as yours when you mention the child roaming the woods at night, you both shiver dramatically.
"But that’s actually interesting." He interrupts, his chin resting in his palm and head slightly tilted to the side. His eyes look like they’re searching for something and then they land on you.
Your heartbeat quicken from the surprise eye contact. "Don’t you think it’s weird that the boy at the reception kept mentioning those hot springs knowing about the disappearances?"
You think of Yun, and you did want to object to whatever Satoru was implying, but you aren’t stupid. When Satoru put it like that, it’s very obvious that the boy is suspicious."
"We’ll go there tomorrow night. After the reception closes. My eyes still aches a little so I’m gonna need my beauty sleep."
Soft giggles escape your mouth, Satoru could be such a princess at times and he was doing it on purpose because he knew how funny you found it. You lightly shove his shoulder before taking the empty cups to the sink.
Surprised at the sudden contact when Satoru stands behind you, his body pushes against your back and force you to hold the counter for support. "Wha—?"
"Sorry, needed a glass." You wonder why he lingered, even with the glass in his hand and you turn around to face him. That resulted in your head bumping into his chin and a low crack’s heard.
"Ah, fuck. You’re really intent on harming me constantly on this mission." His hand rubs his chin and he frown down at you — still very close — and you try to hide a snicker.
With a yelp you feel yourself pushed even closer to the counter, the edge of digging into your back and you look up to see Satoru’s mouth formed into a devilish smirk.
He leans over you to pour water in the glass, without breaking eye contact as he does. Your hands feel clam and when he moves you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
A little while later you both went to the bathhouse wardrobes to brush your teeth and use the toilet.
On your way back to the room you bump into Satoru who exit the male wardrobe. Naturally you walk together to your room, but only one of you noticed the pair of eyes looking at you from a distance.
"Ladies first." His arm out to allow you to enter first, you bow as a thanks and run to the futon and cover yourself in the duvet. Exhaling in delight at the warmth around you.
Last night had gone well and you felt less nervous about sharing the futon or the duvet this time around. You even dared to lay a little closer to the middle this time.
"Satoru?"
You hear him shuffle beside you and grunts a low ‘hn’. He’s wearing the bandages over his eyes again.
"Why do you think the curse is after young couples explicitly?" You turn to look at him and even without seeing his eyes you could tell they were open as he face the ceiling.
"I’ve been thinking about that, but right now I can’t really know for sure. We’ll investigate further tomorrow. Maybe you could chat with the boy?" Satoru had observed how smitten the boy was by you, he didn’t blame him. You’re a really pretty girl with a kind heart, and on rare occasions could be funny.
"I can try, but I’m not really sure how to do it without rising any suspicions."
"You’re a clever one, you’ll figure it out. Good night."
"Good night ‘Toru."
Without realising what you just called him you turn on your side, your back to him and close your eyes. Leaving the boy next to you with slightly faster heartbeats.
I should see Shoko about this, might not be motion sickness after all. Probably something worse like a heart attack.
-
Before leaving your room, the thought of wrecking something was temping, but you didn’t want to risk an ear-lashing from Yaga-sensei.
While your mission is to extract information from Yun and it shouldn’t be too difficult if Satoru’s statement about the boy being smitten by you, you still had to be clever about it. The boy didn’t seem stupid and if he truly is related to the disappearances he’ll quickly catch on.
After grinding your brain for ideas, a lightbulb lit above your head. A weeping, heartbroken and vulnerable girl would most definitely lure him in — if he’s smitten by you, that is.
You rub, poke and do your best to make your eyes swollen and puffy. With one look in the small mirror you smile confidently at your efforts. Pinching your nose as a last finishing touch before walking to the reception.
"Good morning, miss!— oh, are you okay?" Bingo.
"M-morning, Yun-kun. I’m fine, I guess." A faint blush on his cheeks at your added ‘-kun’ on his name.
He works up courage to join you on the bench, keeping a respectable distance. When he’s not standing behind the counter on the stool you notice how short he really is. Too short for his age, he appears younger and you almost feel bad for tricking him. Almost.
"Where’s your boyfriend?" Young and naive, he still haven’t learned how to conceal the jealousy in his voice when the word ‘boyfriend’ left his lips.
Wiping a non-existent tear you sigh. "We… had a fight and he went out."
"Sorry if this is very unprofessional of me, but he seems like a jerk. The way he made you carry him yesterday." You hide your snort with a sob and look at him.
"It’s okay, you’re kinda right. He really is a jerk. Now he went to those hot springs you talked about by himself." You notice a slight shift in the boy at the mention of the hot springs.
"Really?" His tone shifts and you see him nibbling on his lower lip with his teeth.
"Maybe I should go after him. What do you think, Yun-kun?" Yun thinks for a minute and his face turn into a polite smile.
"I think that’s a great idea." There’s something in his expression that you struggle to read. "But the hot springs are usually very crowded at these hours, if you want it to be more romantic you should go later."
Satoru was right, something about this boy is suspicious, but you had him reeled in and you take advantage of the moment.
"Yun-kun, you’re really mature for your age. Why is that?" Blushing at your words, his fingers fiddle with the fabric of his shirt.
"M-my grandparents I guess, after my parents walked out on me they took me in. Giving me work and helping me with my studies."
The mention of parents intrigued you and you took a chance at digging further.
"That’s really nice of them, but sorry I couldn’t help my curiosity. You say your parents walked out on you? Why?"
You notice Yun’s eyes turn glossy and his lips tremble. "They had me at a pretty young age and somehow figured it was better for my grandparents to raise me." The way your hand naturally fell onto his shoulder to stroke it affectionately put him at ease.
"That must’ve been really terrible, thank you for sharing with me. How old were you when it happened?" Oh no, too obvious. You think and quickly add "I mean me and Satoru are thinking of having children ourselves, but we’re still only teenagers."
Hoping you managed to save yourself, Yun look at you and as he’s about to speak, a door opening interrupts you.
In walks Satoru and his eyes land on you and Yun, he frown at your hand on the boys shoulder. "Heh, trying to steal my girlfriend?" He smirks and Yun quickly stands up and bows.
"Oh, no! Sorry about that sir. We were just talking." Swiftly he move behind the counter and smile politely. Satoru looks at you with curiosity before his gaze turn to Yun.
You’re both surprised when Yun suddenly speak in a low voice. "Maybe if you treat her better and stop being a jerk you wouldn’t have to worry about people trying to steal her."
Speechless Satoru turn to you, and notice your puffy and red eyes. He assumes it’s part of some plan and he kneels in front of you to cup your cheek. "Babe, have I done something wrong?" You know he’s only acting, but there’s a sincerity his eyes and you can’t help the little clench in your chest.
"She’s sad because you went to the hot springs alone." Yun speak in a not-so-polite tone and you’re able to tear your eyes from Satoru’s.
"It’s okay Yun-kun, thanks for the back up. But I need to talk to my boyfriend alone."
Yun gives you an assuring smile as you and Satoru walk to your room, Satoru figure having his arm around your shoulder would make it seem more authentic. He didn’t do it because he wanted to, it was purely acting.
At least that’s what he told himself.
-
Behind safe walls, Satoru can finally drop his act — or so you thought, but his arm still lingers over your shoulders. You catch yourself leaning slightly into him, but that seems to make him aware of the touch.
He quickly pulls away, clearing his throat before speaking. "So, I’m a jerk boyfriend?" Satoru hope his smile conceal his warm cheeks.
"After you said Yun seemed to like me, I thought maybe that would be a gateway to get him to open up to me, it was a gamble to be honest." You grin at your own genius mind, Satoru can’t help himself and his large hand ruffles your hair.
"You really are a clever little girl." The hint of flirtation in his voice didn’t go unnoticed, but you found yourself enjoying his tone far more than you normally would’ve.
"There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me." Your voice coated in the same flirtatious tone and you’re bathing in his flustered reaction.
"Come on, I’ll make some tea and we’ll talk about our day, almost like a proper couple." you turn your back to him with a heated face. You sounded way more confident than you actually are.
Both seated at the table, munching on the snacks Satoru had bought on his own investigation. Apparently he had gone downtown to ask around, and the stall selling sweets proved too tempting for him to ignore.
No shock that Satoru had easily gained information from a group of girls — filling you with a sour feeling, but you’re not going to met him know that.
"Something wrong?" Without realising that your face had turned into a pout, you’re quick to shoot him a grin.
"Oh, nothing. Go on." You wave an awkward hand before chewing on your strawberry pocky. Satoru smirks, it felt like he saw right through you.
Without his sunglasses you feel even more exposed when his blue eyes look at you like that, a stare you don’t expect from a friend…
You reach for the bag of mochi and your hand touch his, both of you let it linger before pulling back. His warm skin to yours sent sparks through your skin and you cover your mouth with the hand, attempting to hide the embarrassment.
With the smirk still playing in his lips he pops a mochi between his lips without breaking eye contact. You don’t either and suddenly the mood switch.
"Do you really think I’m a jerk boyfriend?" The question takes you by surprise.
"What?"
He faux pout without breaking his smirk. "I mean, I did spend the day flirting with a lot of cute girls."
The way his eyes pull you in and his dreamy orbs peak from behind long lashes, your breath hitch. You want to just ask him what’s gotten into him, but no words come out.
Subconsciously you closer to him — he’s also moving closer, finally able to tear your eyes from his, only to land on his lips.
So close now you can feel his breath on your face, sweet like the chocolate mochi he had only minutes ago devoured.
You feel his hand gently brush the hair from face, a hitch in your breath turn his gaze to your lips. His hand trail down to the back of your neck, tickling the skin lightly.
Right now, you want nothing more than for him to pull you into him, even though you know you shouldn’t. He’s your friend, you’re on a mission and it’s all just an act.
Still.
You allow yourself to be pulled in, closing your eyes in anticipation — his lips almost grazing yours before a loud bang is heard from outside.
Satoru turn to the windows, his six eyes almost making out the culprit. He could see someone running away, they’re quick.
On his feet he walk over to the window, staring out with a deep frown. Whoever what or who that was, they had managed to sneak around his six eyes — or had he just been too distracted?
"Legolas, what do your elf eyes see?" His attention turn to you, standing next to him now.
"They’re taking the hobbits to Isengard." The way your nose slightly scrunge when you snort is too cute.
"No, but seriously do you see anything?"
He crouch his back slightly and squint, looking like an old man and you can’t help but laugh.
"Whatever it was, my six eyes can’t see it anymore, but by the sound of it my guess is someone crashing into something."
Covering the windows with the curtains he sigh. "We should prepare for our mission, the earlier we investigate the faster we can go to sleep."
-
The reception is closed and no Yun in sight, the air around you almost creepy and you shudder. You keep eyeing the man next to you nervously — the way his hand had grazed your skin, his lips almost on you and you can’t help wonder if he’s also just as affected.
Satoru had been more quiet than usual, lost in his thoughts when you walk through the front door of the lobby. He wants to say he regret his actions, but that would be a lie.
He only regret being interrupted, because somehow now — his body wants nothing more than to kiss his mission partner, behind closed doors.
He’s confused about you, what you thought and felt when he leaned in. You must’ve known his intentions, why didn’t you stop him? What would’ve happened?
He remember the moment he entered the lobby and saw your teary eyes look at him, causing a feeling of distress to erupt inside him. An urge to wipe your tears away and hug you tightly overwhelmed him, but when he saw the boy comforting you he assumed it wasn’t real.
It was just an act and his mind eased up, after you shared your plan, he couldn’t help frown at the thought of you thinking he would be a jerk boyfriend. That thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Satoru wait!" lost in his thoughts he failed to realise he was way ahead of you, your shorter legs struggling to keep up.
Stopping at the last step he turn to look at you, panting, sweating and swearing as you fight your way up the staircase.
"Are you fucking deaf? Did you forget that not everyone has freakishly long legs?" Satoru just stare at you dumbfounded.
Had he really just walked those steps without realising it? Imagine if something had happened, would he have been able to notice it? Slapping his cheek attempting to keep his focus.
You finally caught up with him and you slump down on the ground like a child, trying your best to catch your breath. "I mean, these stairs have been the toughest part of this mission."
Satoru squat down next to you and pat your head with a gentle smile. "There there, you did good." He coos and you stick out your tongue at him. "Now stop being so dramatic and let’s go." Teasing smirk on his lips before pulling you up from the ground.
You’re lighter than expected and with a little too much force you crash into him, both your hands on his chest supporting you. The hot breath in your ear make you jump, but he holds you still.
"I feel something." It took you a hot minute to realise what he had actually meant. You feel it too now, the same presence as yesterday.
"What do we do?" Whispering back and you feel his hold tighten even more. It’s dark outside — and even as a sorcerer you can’t help but be afraid, because you’re too aware of what lurks in it.
"We should keep up the act as a couple, so just act like we’re on some creepy date or whatever."
In a swift motion he lifts you up in his arms bridal style and you let out a surprised squeak. His action made your stomach tickle and you giggle. You’re not sure if it’s acting or not at this point.
"Ah, ‘Toru!" You whine lovingly and wrap your arms around his neck. "What? Can’t I carry my future wife?" He nuzzle his nose into your neck and you hear him whisper again.
"I’ll let you down when we pass that huge cherry blossom tree." Thankful for his six eyes you feel more safe in his arms.
Strong arms…
You gaze up at him and from this angle his jaw appears even sharper and his lips fuller, imagining how those lips would feel against yours.
After passing the tree he spoke of he gently put you down and carefully take in the surroundings, it’s very dark and little to no light source except for the moon and stars.
"Can I hold your hand?" The ominous aura surrounding you makes you even more frightened than normal.
Without question his hand finds yours — large and warm it wraps and his fingers intertwine with your smaller ones. A soothing squeeze was enough to calm your nerves.
You walk further up, the sound of hot springs close by, a sound usually comforting, but right now only ads to the creepy atmosphere.
Trees rustle, causing you to hold onto him, seeking comfort behind his large stature.
"I’m here, you’re safe." He murmurs in your head before looking ahead again.
You know the safest place right now is next to your friend. He was the strongest after all, even though you tease him a lot for calling himself that. The statement is true and everyone knows that.
If you were to state more facts about Gojo Satoru, one of them would be that he’s a very likeable person and that’s why you enjoys his company. To you, Satoru is a really good friend and classmate, but right now his role in your life is starting to change.
You rarely hold hands with Suguru or Shoko, and when you do — your stomach never flutters as it does now.
It could probably be those stairs too, being around Satoru sometimes makes you feel like you’ve climbed a thousand stairs.
"Whatcha thinking ‘bout?" Satoru took notice of your silence, he can’t help worry if you’re okay. He knows of your fear of the dark and by the way you’re counting to his arms — which he doesn’t mind — it’s obvious you want nothing more than to leave.
"Stairs."
"Stairs? Why?" he can’t help but be amused by your answer, not really what he thought would occupy your pretty little head.
"I’ve experienced increased heartbeat and shortness of breath ever since we got here, and sometimes my face feels warm. I suspect it must be because of all the stairs."
Satoru can’t help but giggle at your weirdness at times. "Maybe you should start exercising more?" You lightly shove him with your body and he shoves you back — lightly as well.
The hot springs come into view and they appears almost magical. That eerie feeling gone and you can’t feel any cursed energy or that presence around.
You meet Satoru’s eyes and he confirms that he also notice the lack of presence. "Weird." You comment and he nods. "Let’s just go with the plan for now and see what happens." His voice barely a whisper.
"Wow, Yun was right. They’re really amazing!" You let go of his hand to run up to them. "Maybe we should try?" Satoru quickly scan the area to make sure the coast is clear.
"If you promise to keep your hands to yourself this time." You blush at his sudden comment remembering the first night in the bathhouse.
"You’re not going to be naked this time!" You turn your back to him hiding a furious blush.
"So in order for you to not grope me, I need to wear clothes? Make sure to remind to tell Shoko to not let you visit me in the hospital if I ever get hurt.
"Shut up. I said I’m sorry and you forgave me, let’s just forget about it." You start to undress, but you leave your t-shirt on.
Dipping a careful toe into it before you let your whole body soak in the warm waters. Satoru down to his boxers slips in next to you.
"Wow look at the view!" Lights from the city can be seen below, but it was the clear starry sky that took your breath away.
The moonlight illuminating the forest and Satoru found himself admiring how the light compliments your skin.
His thoughts interrupted when his six eyes pick up a weak source of cursed energy nearby. He gently nudge at your shoulder and you look at him as he point with his eyes behind you.
‘Do you sense something?’ You mouth silently to him he nods in confirmation. Fighting the urge to look over your shoulder, you decide to creep closer to him instead.
Now you could sense it too and you feel shivers running down your spine. "Satoru, how close?"
According to your plan, you’d stay here until Satoru could get a good look on the curse without blowing your cover.
So right now you were deliberately sitting with your backs against the trees and with the sound of the hot spring deafening your voices.
"It’s closing in, but I don’t sense any threatening intent, seems like it’s just observing for now." He didn’t notice that his arm was already wrapped around your shoulders, not until you were leaning closer into him.
He rest his cheek on your head and his fingers gently stroke up and down your arm. "It’s really close. Just watching us." Murmuring softly and you tremble slightly, not sure if it’s because of the curse, the cold breeze or the way his fingers trails up and down your arm.
You jump slightly at the sound of a branch breaking behind you. Turning your head to see, but Satoru’s hand stops you, holding your head still by cupping your cheek — forcing you to look at him.
He move his lips closer and just when you think he’d kiss you, he move further and whisper in your ear. "Don’t look."
Your chest painful from the intense heartbeats and you swallow nervously. His cheek touches your cheek and you let out a heavy breath.
It felt like you had walked up all those stairs again.
"You’re trembling." He coos and you feel yourself growing dizzy at the constant whispering in your ear. It felt too intimate and your thighs rubs against one another.
"To be honest, I’m scared." He pull you into a hug and you can feel his heart beating against your ear.
"Let’s go back."
He release you and stands up, your eyes can’t help but follow the water droplets rolling down his body. Shivering from the night air against your wet skin, your t-shirt clings to your body and your jacket barely gave any protection.
For the first time you’re actually glad to see the stairs. That meant you’re soon back at the ryokan and away from whatever is lurking in those woods.
"We should hurry back before we risk catching a cold." You huff and power walk down the stairs with Satoru right behind you.
"Hey! Carefu—" he calls out when you miss your step and fall forward.
Closing your eyes as you prepare yourself for the fall, but a strong hand prevents you from falling — capturing your waist in a firm grip.
"How about we try and stay on our feet instead of throwing ourselves off the stairs?"
A hint of flirt in his teasing voice.
"Yeah." Too stunned to speak you stare into his eyes. You’re breathing heavily from the fear of falling — or the fear of falling for him.
He pulls you to him and for a moment you thought you only imagined it when he crash his lips against yours.
The moment of rush and intensity blurred your mind — your hands wraps themselves around his neck for more support and you answer his chaste kiss passionately.
Satoru lose his steady footing for a second and sits down on the step, not breaking the kiss. You straddle his lap and grab his head by his snowy locks — bringing him closer to you.
His hand snake up your back, the touch tingling as he softly trace his palm up and down your spine — leaving goosebumps on your already shivering skin.
Out of breath you both pull away and you lean your forehead against his. He didn’t say anything and neither did you.
"Let’s go, the air here is so thick from the curse." You remove yourself from his lap, your head feels light and your pulse throbbing so much it’s deafening.
"Yeah." He answer with a breath.
Satoru watch your back for a second as you continue down the stairs, his motion sickness is back, not so sure if it’s motion sickness he’s feeling.
-
Neither of you had said anything since then, a thick silence looms over you, it’s almost suffocating. You gaslight yourself into thinking he kissed you as part of the mission — that the curse had lingered around and he wanted to make sure your cover was not blown.
The few glances you had dared to shoot at Satoru made you uncertain — his expression unreadable and for the first time a feeling of nervousness around him arises.
Satoru had gone to the showers without any words — needing some time to digest what had just happened.
He let out a sigh of reliefs as the warm water touch his skin — and for a moment he just stood there. His finger trace his lips absently while the man is deep in thoughts.
Question his own action, why had he kissed you? The curse was not around, no one was around. Just the two of you alone. Just him and his classmate, friend and mission partner.
The feeling of your hands in his hair still lingers — the way your lips had answered his with such passion. His other hand move down to stroke his hard member.
Thankful no one else is in the showers, the stroking escalates. He tighten his grip and starts to pump — begging for some relief. His bottom lip between his teeth, stopping himself from making too much noise.
Images of your face, voice, body taking up every inch of his brain — he imagine how your hand would feel. How big it must look against them — much smaller and petite compared to his own.
"Fuck.." Satoru’s heavy breathes fill the empty room, only the sound of the shower there to cover some of his shame.
Vigorous pumps — his thumb pressing on the throbbing head with waving pump and then a loud moan along with your name slips out of his mouth. Eyes clenched shut and he relish in the feeling of release — thinking of you and only you.
Satoru clean up his scene of crime, finishing his shower and wrap the white robe the ryokan offered around him. He left in such a haste earlier he forgot to bring spare clothing.
Back at the room he could see your sleeping form on the futon, your breathes steady signalising you’re asleep.
Both of you had long forgotten about asking for a spare futon and at this point there was no point. Halfway through your mission already and sharing a futon hadn’t been too bad.
Trying his best to slip under the duvet without waking you — but sadly as a sorcerer you were a light sleeper, just like him.
"Did you find out anything about the curse?" The way your soft, sleepy voice ask him made his stomach tickle a little.
He then to face you, his eyes covered in bandages. You’re glad — looking into his mesmerising blue eyes right now would’ve made it harder to look at him.
"What the old ladies told you about it taking the shape of a child is correct. I couldn’t really tell the gender or specific age." Satoru chew on his bottom lip as he thinks.
"I can’t say for sure if the reception boy is involved, but he fit the description. Still, we have to figure the motive."
You remember now what Yun had told you about his parents and that you forgot to tell Satoru earlier.
"I might have something." You scratch your head apologetically as you share very vital information, hoping Satoru won’t get too angry with you.
"Did he say anything else?"
"No, but he said they were very young. The couples that disappeared were all teenagers to young adults…" he sigh and turn only his head in your direction.
"But one thing I don’t understand. Why didn’t the curse attack us?"
"I think it was waiting for the right moment. The curse appears intelligent and could be a possible unregistered special grade."
Subconsciously your body had moved a little closer to him while talking. "Do you think it could see through our covers? Sense our cursed energy?"
Satoru shakes his head and stretch slightly, his legs almost touching yours. "No, I think it would’ve either attacked or hidden if that was the case."
His damp hair lays flat over his face and you’re tempted to reach out and comb your hand through it. Even with his eyes covered you somehow feel his eyes on you.
"We should get some sleep and talk more tomorrow. I’m tired." He turn to lay on his back and your eyes linger on his face before you close yours.
-
Satoru is the first to wake up, when he tries to move his movements are halted by a smaller form next to him — or on top of him would be more correct.
He pull off his bindings to get a proper view — his heart skipping a beat at the sight before him. He remember you shiver last night and must’ve searched for a source of warmth.
Satoru being naturally warmblooded had drawn you to him. He can’t help himself as his hand move to stroke the hair out of your face — even with your mouth partially open drool drenching the fabric of his shirt, he thought you were beautiful.
After his revelation in the showers — at least that’s what he calls it, any other word would just make him feel like a pig. Satoru had realised it wasn’t motion sickness, it was you.
Now he understands why Suguru had laughed at his words in the phone — shit he would’ve laughed too. He’s aware that human interactions and emotions aren’t his strong suit, but he never thought he’s this dense.
A change in your breathing tear him out of thought, he realise his hand never stopped stroking your hair and face. When your eyelids twitch slightly, your eyelashes flutter before opening.
Satoru decide to do what any mature man would do when they wake up with a woman they like in their arms — pretend to be asleep.
Smacking your lips as you wake up, feeling your mouth is dry. You turn your face to wipe the drool from your mouth on your pillow — not opening your eyes, still enjoying the morning sleepiness.
However the pillow seems harder, firmer than usual, and the fabric not as soft like you remember.
Slowly opening your eyes, blinking a few times trying to take in your surroundings. Your breath stops as you realise the position you’re in. And with whom you’re in it with.
Your cheek squeezed against his chest and one arm loosely slung over his lower stomach — inside his shirt. Satoru didn’t have his blindfold on anymore and you peak up at this closed eyes.
His eyelashes so long they touch the apple of his cheeks, slightly flustered cheeks you must add. You try to gently remove your hand from the exposed skin of his stomach.
White strands of hair trailing from his navel and down to the waistband of his boxers, which hung a little low. His v-line in full view and you feel your thighs clench together.
Begging that he’s not awake enough to feel how your hand takes a little detour before leaving his body — tracing over his abs and down over his happy trail.
The duvet cover whatever is below the waistband of his boxers — luckily for Satoru. He’s painfully aware of your touches, and the semi-hard he had battled when he woke up to you against him was now back and fully awake.
For his own good, he had to ‘wake up’ before something that shouldn’t happen, happens. He move a little, his hand move to pull down his shirt before going for a full body stretch.
You don’t know this is the second time he’s stretching himself awake, and when his eyes fall on yours with a groggy gaze you blush, hard.
"Sorry!" Putting a distance between your bodies — covering your probably red face and mumble "You should’ve just pushed me away." expecting him to tease you like usual, you’re surprised when he lets out a soft chuckle.
"I didn’t really mind, don’t worry." Peaking between your fingers and your cheeks heats up at his gentle expression.
"However, my arm is pretty dead after that big head of yours slept on it." He stick out his tongue and you snort, relieved he didn’t make the situation weird or awkward.
"What’s the plan today?" You feel your cheeks have calmed down, hoping there’s no visible blush.
"I think we’ll save ourselves any more trips up to the hot springs and investigate the boy more instead. We have to be sure we’re correct before making any moves."
One of the reasons you and Satoru are excellent mission partners is how in synch your brains are. You’re known to complete your missions smoothly and successfully because of that.
-
You decided to get some breakfast at the café next to the ryokan. Finding a table at the innermost part to have some privacy.
Swaying your feet underneath the table because of the tall chair, you gaze out of the window while sipping on your smoothie.
"Ouch!" Your foot accidentally kicks Satoru’s shin — his exclamation makes you choke on your drink.
Satoru bends down to look under the table and notice how your short legs don’t reach down and he can’t help himself.
"Chair too high for the little hobbit?" You kick him again, this time on purpose. Satoru dramatically grab his leg with a faux groan and a little giggle escape your lips.
The sound of the bell ringing, averting your attention to the door. Three familiar faces walks inside. It’s the old ladies you talked to the other day and when they notice you they smile as they walk in your direction.
"Oh, look at those cute lovebirds enjoying their breakfast together. How are you dear? And you have to introduce us to this handsome young man!"
You’re about to answer, but Satoru stands up and introduces himself with a nauseating politeness in his voice. This cause the ladies to swoon and you roll your eyes at him.
"Satoru-kun, sit down please." He winks at you, making sure they see it before finding his seat again.
One of the ladies smile turn into a frown. "I saw you two walk up to those hot springs last night, that was very reckless of you."
You’re unsure how to answer, the fact they were out that late was weird and a little suspicious. Thankfully Satoru takes the initiative — again, and with a charming tone flaunts his long eyelashes at them.
"Sorry for worrying you, but it was my idea. A little selfish of me, but knowing my girlfriend is a scaredy-cat I wanted an excuse for her to hold onto me." He gives you a quick smile — genuine one before turning back to them.
The ladies ‘aww’ in unison, charmed by his words. He’s enjoying the attention a little too much and you’re about to say something when one of the ladies ask.
"How long are you staying at the ryokan?" Her tone innocent, but yet you sense something else — a hidden meaning behind her question.
You and Satoru exchange glances, he felt it too and you telepathically agreed on not to answer truthfully.
"We don’t really know yet, how about you?"
Something in the ladies eyes shifted slightly before one of them answered. "Oh, we live in the area."
"Oh, I thought you were on vacation here as well. How long have you been here?" Your voice chirpy, covering your tone of any suspiciousness. You take note of how they suddenly became more closed off.
One of the ladies mouth turn into a smile, a little restrained compared to before. "It’s been so many years, can’t really remember." Obvious that she wants this conversation to end, but you’re tempted to dig some more — until Satoru’s voice interject.
"Look at the time sweetie, we’re already late!" Satoru jumps up and takes your hand in his. "Sorry ladies, but I have a lovely date planned for my special girl."
Pulling you into him with his arm around your waist before placing a kiss on the top of your head.
About to take your leave, one of the ladies speaks. "Remember to join the party in the hotel restaurant this evening! Apparently a lot of young folks from downtown are going to come."
Thanking them you bow your head before letting Satoru guide you out the door. You wave a goodbye to the employer and lean into his body. Enjoying the closeness while you can as his ‘girlfriend’.
Outside you bump into Yun, he’s surprised to see you and he wince when his eyes meet Satoru’s. Last time they spoke Yun had accused him of being a bad boyfriend and a jerk.
A polite smile plastered on his face and he greets you as always, only a faint drop of sweat at the base of his hairline. "Hi there." He didn’t seem open for any small talk and he continue his walk.
When you enter the lobby you eye each other quickly, taking the advantage of Yun’s absents. Your eyes scan the room and when the coast is clear you start to snoop around — you behind the receptions desk.
You don’t really expect to find anything, but to your surprise you find a stack of pictures held together with a small rubber band.
Signalling him to come to you in a swift motion Satoru makes his way over, bending down next to you to look at what you found.
He grabs the pictures out of your hand and you give him a ‘huff’ — in return he just winks as he look through them.
Your shoulder touches his when you move closer to get a better look — unaware of the tiny smile on his lips.
Mostly family photos including Yun and what you assume are his grandparents, he’s younger in the photos, but not so much younger that the photos would be this torn at the edges.
Satoru stops at a photo that caught both your attention, a young Yun — he must’ve been around four or five years old in the photo. Standing next to him is a young couple holding each of his hand in theirs.
He flips the photo around and notice a timestamp, but it didn’t make sense at all — but at the same time it made perfect sense. The photo was taken in the late 80’s, and if that’s correct that would make Yun way older than he really is.
Despite the exciting found, Satoru’s eyes somehow fell on the slight cleavage showing when you bend over the way you do.
The next photo even more interesting, it’s Yun again. Only know he’s standing next to three girls — probably in their mid-twenties. Even with wrinkles and bad posture now, it was easy to recognise who they are.
"Shit, we need to hide." Before you could react you hear the sound of the lobby door open and the next moment you’re inside what you assume is a closet.
It’s dark, the only source of light is the one from the crack of the doors. Trying your best to not let the fact that Satoru’s body pressing against yours distract you.
The height difference causes your face to press into his chest, trying to speak only for him to hush you.
"It’s the boy." Satoru said in a low voices. He moves his arms up and rest his elbows on the wall behind you, his forearms framing your head.
You dare to look up at him. The closet is tight and the air heavy — you inhale sharply trying to not faint from lack of oxygen.
Satoru is facing the closet doors, but when he feels your eyes on him he turn to face you, only for his chin to clash with your head —biting his tongue in the process.
His expression combined with your situation causes you to giggle — Satoru try to silence you with a stern look only for it to have the opposite effect. Trying your best to stifle the laughter brewing in your chest, but it proves impossible.
Satoru realise the only way to shut you up is to move his hand to cover your mouth. The tiny breathes from you laughing tickles his skin. "Shhh, he’ll hear you." You tried, you really did, but you could no longer control your body.
"Just shut the fuck up—" the closet doors open and you both turn to face Yun, shock painting his features before turning into disgust.
"What are you doing?" Yun’s voice cry out in shock and embarrassment. "Y-you can’t do that in there, p-please leave!" Stuttering, his face painted red and horror.
Your cheeks heat up when you realise what he must’ve thought and your laughter long gone. You try to speak, stuttering your words — but luckily Satoru shoots in.
"Ah, sorry about that! We’ll leave." He drag you out with him and he doesn’t let go before you’re both inside the room.
You watch him kick off his shoes — back against you, unable to witness as you slowly slide down against the door.
"Sato—" he turns around at your voice cutting off mid-sentence to find your passed out. "Hey! Are you okay?"
His voice calls out your name while worried hands gently shake you, but when you don’t answer he panic.
Careful movements he takes off your shoes before sliding his arms under your knees and neck — you’re not heavy at all. He knew that, but he liked to tease you and see your reaction whenever he calls you heavy.
He place you on the futon, his hand flat on your forehead — sighing in relief when he doesn’t sense any fever. Two fingers on your throat he can feel your pulse throbbing faster than normal.
Suddenly you sit up in panic, looking around in confusion — wondering what happened. Satoru is sitting next to you, hand reaching out to your shoulder in an attempt to calm you.
"What happened?" You mumble and his thumb rubs in circles as he speaks.
"Don’t know, you were about to call out my name, but when I turned around you were out cold on the floor." Your eyes travel up to the worried frown between his brows.
"How long was I out?"
"Not even five minutes, I just placed you on the futon. Your pulse is very high though…" he is right, your pulse is high — and he’s the cause of that.
"Must’ve been the tight air in that closet, I remember being dizzy… sorry for blowing our cover by laughing."
None of you points out the way his hand had moved from your shoulder to your cheek — thumb still rubbing in soothing circles, but this time very close to your lips.
"Let’s get ready for tonight." You nod in agreement and hide your disappointment when his hand pulls away.
-
"Satoru! I just spoke with Yun and the ryokan has yukata’s for rent for their guests." You shout out to him sitting outside on the porch.
"And they have an open bar!" You exclaim in bliss.
"Please don’t drink too much, remember last time there was an open bar? Me and Suguru had to literally drag you home while you fought like a feral cat." He’s admiring the view while munching on some sweets, the cherry blossom trees are threatening to bloom any day now.
He thought about how beautiful you would look as the pink leaves fall around you, and the smile on your face as you relish in their colours. You had said on your first day here that you really wanted to see them bloom — and now so did he.
"Satoru?" He jump at your voice suddenly next to him. "I’m going to shower and get ready, the party is in 1 hour." The white haired boy only nods, still looking straight ahead.
After you left, he walks inside and slump down on the futon — on your side. The smell of you still linger and he inhale deeply before rolling over to his side.
"Ah fuck…" he breathes out and try his best to stop his hardening member. Maybe just a few strokes… a hand carefully slide down to relieve himself.
-
You’re touching yourself, moaning softly — the water pours over your naked form. His name slips out between your heavy breathes.
No one else was around, thankfully. The need to do something about the sexual frustration caused by your mission partner is now too urgent to not tend to.
One hand cups a breast while the other vigorously rub against your swollen bud. With the memory of his toned stomach from this morning still fresh — getting yourself off from the thought of what else he is hiding.
What would he do if he was here now? Would his large and strong hands find those spots that make your eyes roll?
Him pinning you against the shower wall, kissing you passionately as his big and hard cock slowly enter your warmth.
You’re so close now, the sweet feeling of release about to hit you, but you’re interrupted by other guests walking in, even with walls covering you — masturbating now is out of the question.
You finish the shower, sulking because now the pent up frustration only worse. The women give you a polite smile and you nod back — overhearing their conversation about the party.
On your way back to the room, you take a detour through the lobby to borrow yukata’s for you and Satoru.
Yun smiles at you politely, but you notice he’s more distant after the closet-incident. The yukata’s are very simple and they’re onesized.
You’re tempted to pick the light blue for Satoru, but somehow the green one draws your attention. You never see him in green — and now you really want to.
For yourself you choose a pink yukata, hoping that would encourage the trees to bloom. Thanking Yun for the help before walking back to your room.
The room is empty and you frown, but then you notice his slippers are gone and you assume he must’ve gone to the showers.
You open the mini fridge and notice the bottle of sake, humming in delight you pour yourself a cup.
Satoru emerges through the door just in time to witness you down your fourth cup of sake, your cheeks tainted pink from the alcohol effects. "Maybe slow down a little." He takes the cup and pour himself one and pour it down quickly.
You’re not drunk, but also not sober. Being a lightweight you’re easily affected — and you notice your words slur a little when you speak.
"I got us clothes. The green one is yours." Almost singing your words you usher him to put it on. He drink another cup of sake before grabbing the fabric in his arms.
"Let me know when it’s on so I can help adjusting it." You sip on a new cup of sake and try to suppress your little giggles.
"Alright, ready. And pour another one for me as well, gotta keep up if you’re keep drinking at this pace." Of course his six eyes saw you secretly drinking and you huff with a small laugh.
"I just knew this shade of green would suit you." Humming a little as you admire your handiwork. You tap the fabric with a smug look on your face.
Satoru has an amused expression when he sees your face, a faint blush from the alcohol brushes over your cheeks. He drank the whole cup in one go before going to pour himself one more cup.
Little did he know that he himself also is a lightweight, rarely — almost never did he drink alcohol, the taste too bitter for his sweet tooth.
He shakes the almost empty bottle and look into the fridge to find more while you get dressed.
There were several different tiny shot bottles, vodka, tequila and sambuca. Contemplating if he should go for them or a new bottle of sake.
"Fuck it, shots it is." He mutter to himself, taking one bottle of each before he turn to you.
"’Toru! I’m ready." Just like your voice — posture also childish, he snorts a little before he notice your appearance.
"Fuck." you stood before him with your yukata open, revealing your white laced underwear — shameless he must add.
He had seen you naked before, but this time it was different. In the bathhouse he avoided looking too much at your exposed form out of respect. However now you seem to want him to look. Satoru bite his lip as he eye you from top to bottom — when he meets your eyes there’s a hint of seductive in your humorous expression.
"Enjoying the view?" His mouth agape as you twirl around, sipping on your sake with a smirk.
"Oh my god, please stop drinking." He walks up to you and quickly tighten the yukata — covering you up for your (his) own good.
"So if I need to stop drinking, what about those tiny bottles behind your back?" Quick movement you sneak your arms around his waist and snatch a bottle from him.
"Hey, you little sneak!" Giggling like a child as you run away from him, opening the bottle and swallow the contents swiftly — you wink at him in victory and Satoru shakes his head with a disbelieving smile.
Your face turn into a grimace when the taste of the sambuca fills your mouth. "Bleurgh, why did you give me this one."
"First of all, you took it from me. Second, we need to go over our plan before the party." Before you’re too drunk to function. He let out the last part of his sentence.
"Alright, boss. What’s the plan?" You sneak your way to the fridge and open the second bottle of sake. This time you take a sip straight from the bottle to Satoru’s frustration.
He snaps it out of your hand and wave his finger in a ‘no,no’ motion. You know he’s trying his best to be serious — yet his smile gives away how much he’s enjoying himself as well.
Just like you, Satoru also takes a sip from the bottle. He cringe at the taste — just like every time the bitterness fills his mouth.
You gave your best efforts to focus on his words, but your eyes couldn’t help staring at his lips. Satoru notice — but right now it’s more important to get this over with.
"Let’s go outside and sit, fresh air would be nice right now. Here, take this." He hands you a water bottle and you take it with a huff.
Sitting down on each of your sun-beds, but facing forward as you talk. You’re still not too overwhelmed by the alcohol and still able to process information. Kind of.
Satoru had grown suspicious of the old ladies after the encounter at the café, even more after the picture of them and Yun. They’re connected and tonight you’ll talk to some locals in hope to learn more.
Done with going over the mission — and the water bottle half empty you gladly pour down some sake. "You’re unbelievable." He reach out his hand for the bottle, taking a sip himself.
"Let’s save this for later and take these instead." He hands you the small tequila bottle and clank it against his vodka bottle before you empty their contents.
"Alright, let’s go."
-
"A strawberry daiquiri please!" Satoru shakes his head, he had given up trusting you to stay on mission the moment you parked yourself on a stool by the bar.
You figured chatting up the bartender and whoever came to order drinks would be most effective — also you could just sit and enjoy yourself with little to no efforts.
Busy entertaining a few girls on the other side of the room — his eyes still follow your every movement. He knows it’s part of the mission, but he didn’t enjoy how the bartender is obviously flirting with you.
You’re slurring on your words and Satoru decide to join you — in case you’ll blow your cover.
"Make it two." He holds up two fingers and sits down next to you.
He smirks and discreetly gives the bartender a ‘she’s with me’ look — the guy nods in apologise before making your drinks.
He had gathered enough information to finally relax and join you in your mischiefs. "You good?" An arm snakes itself around your form, leaning in to whisper in your ear.
"Learn something?" He feels you nod in response, good. Now he can truly relax.
The bartender places your drinks in front of you and you cheer in delight — straw already in your mouth. Your lips pucker around as you suck up the contents; a little too fast.
"Sweetie, maybe you should take it easy?" He cup your hand into his on the counter and you playfully pout at him.
"Maybe you should catch up? Slowpoke." he decides then and there that it was on.
"Fine, bring it on. May I please order 8 shots of tequila, salt and limes?" The bartender smiles and starts to pour.
You clap your hands and cheer when Satoru starts shotting, which brings an idea to your mind, Satoru notice your cheeky smile and gulps. I’m in danger. He chuckles.
Indeed he was because before he knew it, you lay down on the floor with the yukata opened enough for you belly to be exposed. Satoru swallow hard.
People stands around cheering for him to go for it and he looks at you to make sure you’re really ok with it.
Bad move, your expression is almost erotic if you squint — flustered cheeks and a playful smirk. "Come on, go for it ‘Toru!" He swallow hard again before pouring the tequila in your belly button.
Licking the line of salt between your ribs and down to your navel — his lips pucker around the crevice and sucks up the tequila, his tongue lick inside making sure every drop is gone. He could swear a moan escaped your mouth.
With the lime ready in hand he bite down to dampen the tequila taste. When he’s done he quickly cover you up, the thought of people looking at your body annoying him.
"Gimme gimme." Your hands grab two of the shots and you pour them down without salt or lime.
Satoru felt warm all over and the effects of the alcohol taking over. "Want to dance?" You nod and he takes you by the hand to the dance floor.
To your surprise, Satoru seems to know what he’s doing and you let him take the lead. He spins you around and you giggle, your stomach tickling at the sensations.
He pull you into him, his hands resting on your hips and you wrap yours around his neck. You blame it on the alcohol when you tiptoe up to place a kiss on his lips.
Taken by surprise he stare at you for a moment before he softly smiles and return your kiss. The kiss awakens a need in you, a need you weren’t able to satisfy earlier in the shower.
Satoru felt your kiss growing more intense — your tongue begging for access with hunger. Your tongues intertwine — teasing around in a seductive dance.
Your soft moans becomes too much and before he lost complete control and took your right here and now on the dance floor — he use his last bit of restraint to break the kiss lean into your ear.
"Come with me." Out of breath you only nod and let him pull you with him.
-
The door shuts behind you and in a blink of an eye Satoru takes your face in his hands and pull you in for another kiss.
He push your back against the door hard — without breaking the kiss, hands firmly on your hips.
"We shouldn’t do this…" he pants between your kisses, his actions is not true to his words.
"You’re right." You don’t stop either, the aching between your legs is now in control.
Satoru move to place kisses from your mouth to your jawline and down your throat. He lightly suck on the skin — careful to not leave any marks.
His hands move to open your yukata, revealing your white laced underwear again. Only this time he could do more than just look.
"You’re driving me insane." You had no idea Satoru’s voice could be this sexy, the way he mutters in a husky voice while kissing down your body.
One hand grab a clothed breast, kneading it in his large palm — he can feel you nipple through the fabric. Moving further down now, Satoru kneels in front of you — wet kisses between your breasts and down your stomach.
"You’re one to talk…" you answer him in a moan as his tongue enters your navel again, the taste of tequila still lingering inside.
His hands cup your asscheeks, massaging the skin at the same time his lips kiss all over your stomach and hips. Satoru let out a low groan in frustration when he see the wet spot on your panties.
In a swift motion he lift you up by the ass and carry you to the futon. In the process his own yukata had opened — his tones and sculpted torso on full view.
"You’ve seen this many times before, but I never saw you bite your lips so seductively then."
"Oh shut up!" You pull him down for a kiss to wipe that playful smirk off his lips. This results with his body even closer to yours and when you feel something very hard and big poke the inside of your thigh you freeze.
"Don’t be scared, you two have already met. Remember?" You remember when you had accidentally grabbed his penis in the bathhouse and embarrassment wash over your face.
"It’s wasn’t that big then…" you mumble — covering your face with your hands.
"Hey, it’s okay. I forgave you, remember?" He coos as he gently remove your hands from your face by your wrists — pinning them down next to your head.
He release your wrists and stroke away some of the hair in your face. That teasing smirk is replaced with a soft smile — eyes drinking in all the details of your face before leaning in to kiss you. The kiss sweet and full of unspoken emotions.
Satoru pulls away from you and sits up — sighing he looks down at your confused face.
"We should stop, before this goes too far…"
He’s blushing, eyes slightly glossy and lips even more plump from the kisses.
"Y-yeah…" disappointment all over your face.
Thinking that was it, you sit up trying to cover yourself up only for a hand to stop you. Grabbing the back of your neck — Satoru pull you into a kiss.
"Don’t get me wrong. I want this… I want you. Just not like this." He thanks the alcohol for the courage it has given him — allowing him to confess what his sober mind never would.
You feel your heart clench at how he shyly looks away — then you sit up and gently peck his cheek with your lips.
"It’s okay. Let’s go and finish that bottle of sake." You pull him up to his feet with you and with drunken steps make your way to the fridge.
-
Agony.
That is the word which best describes your state. You turn around with a groan and your eyes land on the person next to you.
Satoru is sleeping on his stomach again, his arms underneath his pillow and gentle snores erupts from his mouth. The back of his head is turned to you and you can’t help but think he would look really nice with an undercut.
The duvet is loosely hanging over his hips, muscular back exposed to you and you reach out to softly trace a finger over his shoulder blades, but stops when you see him move.
"You can touch me." His sleepy voice — a little muffled from the pillow and you blush in embarrassment. You keep forgetting about his six eyes and that it’s almost impossible to be sneaky around him.
He turns around with a groan — with fast movements he pull you into his arms and wraps himself around you. His face snuggling into the crook of your neck.
You’re about to protest, but he cuts you off.
"I meant what I said last night." He mumbles and you’re glad he can’t see your face right now.
"Satoru—" a loud crash jolts both of you awake. Throwing on some clothes you run out to the hotel lobby to see what’s going on.
It’s empty, no one in sight. You exchange a glance, silently agreeing that something is off. The remnants of your alcohol consumptions weights on you, but you try your best to focus.
Another bang, now outside in the direction of the stairs leading to the hot springs.
"Fuck." You turn to him and see him frowning.
"What is it?" He doesn’t answer, instead I suddenly lift you up by the back of your shirt and starts to run faster — carrying you as if you were a grocery bag.
You’re moving so fast that tears forms in your eyes from the wind — you do your best to cover your eyes and not scream.
"Our cover is blown. Prepare yourself."
Back on your feet again, and your eyes widen at the sight before you. An ominous black fog emits from the hot springs. You look up to see a veil surround the area.
"Mommy, daddy, please help!" A familiar voice calls out from the depths below the spring. Swallowing hard you gently tug on Satoru’s sleeve.
"That voice…" he nods, confirming your suspicions.
"Yes, it’s the boy. Come on, we have to jump now. Take my hand." With no hesitation you grab it and together you jump into the dark abyss.
This is the worst case scenario for you — it’s not only dark, but completely black. Satoru squeeze your hand to let you know he’a there. He’ll keep you safe.
"Is this a domain?" Your voice trembling in fear, you’re completely blinded and feel helpless.
"No, it must be a curse technique. It’s the same as the one I sensed when we were here yesterday." You can slightly see his eyes glowing in the dark — it’s almost scary to look at, but you seek comfort in knowing you’re not the one on the receiving end of his deadly stare.
"You’re not my mommy and daddy." The voice appears right next to you — making you jump back in surprise, Satoru is quick to place himself before you.
"Yeah, no. We’re not, kinda impossible for us to make a baby while still being babies ourselves y’know?" Satoru’s voice drips with sarcasm and with a quick motion grabs the source of the voice.
You can barely make out the figure before you, but you’re pretty sure that’s Yun — however that polite smile long gone. Instead a wicked and cruel expression paints his figure.
"Did you really think we wouldn’t notice someone with your amount of cursed energy?"
We?
A moment too late to react, strong hands grabs your body and pulls you away from Satoru — the world moves in slow motion when you watch his head turns to watch you disappear into the dark.
His grip around the boy’s throat tighten and he focus his senses to find you. For any normal person it would be impossible to see, but Gojo Satoru is not any normal person.
"You’re not the first sorcerers to come here. Many before you have tried. However, you’re the first ones to last this long." Yun’s body melts into liquid in his grip and his wicked laughter haunts the darkness.
"Satoru!"
Your voice allows him to immediately pinpoint your location and he warp himself to you — he freezes at the sight of you pinned against a wall.
"Oh look, it’s your handsome boyfriend." The shapes of three older ladies come into view — then they slowly merge into younger versions of themselves. Identical to the photograph.
Satoru calls out your name and is relieved when you look up — appearing unharmed. "Well hello there ladies, if you wanted my attention you could’ve just asked. No need to kidnap someone." He winks playfully — he could easily just annihilate everyone, but that wasn’t part of the mission.
Long slender arms appear next to him, seductively stroking up and down his torso before tracing a sharp fingernail down his neck.
"Hope it’s not too late then, for a little fun with you" he cringe as a wet tongue licks up behind his ear. "I usually like to get to know someone first."
The woman snickers in delight and turn to stand in front of him. "What do you want to know, handsome?" Her mouth move to kiss up his neck, he feels her bite into his skin.
Satoru had chosen not to have is infinity activated — but saying it as a surprise when the real battle starts.
"Satoru!" You try to free yourself from the other two women’s grip, their wrinkly hands hold you firmly in place. All you could do now is watch as the woman feels up his body. Touching him against his will.
You trust Satoru to know what he’s doing, but the sight of someone else being so close to him — curse or no curse — irks your whole soul.
"Stay still or I’ll do more than just touch him, little girl." She spits over her shoulder and continue tracing a finger down his chest.
Feeling completely helpless, all you can do is watch that sharp nail tear open is shirt and then tearing it off him — his upper body now into full view. "Delicious." She licks her lips before continuing speaking.
"It’s been so long since we had such a fine man here, that boy really did a good job this time." Satoru smirks, he knew that if he made her believe she has the upper hand, her mouth would most likely run more freely.
"So that’s it? You exploit that boy’s need to reunite with his parents just for your horny selves? Ah, fuck—" the woman jabs her long nail into his collarbone and drags it now.
You notice the blood pouring down and panic. She eyes you quickly, finger still cutting down his torso. "So what’s your deal then?" He asks, turning her attention away from you.
Meeting your eyes he winks, letting you know he has a plan. You trust him, but still bothered.
"I’m in a good mood, so I’ll tell you. Also you’re going to die soon anyway so it doesn’t matter."
She remove her finger from his body and licks off the blood — eyes rolls to the back of her head in delight.
"That boy is not a boy, not anymore at least. He’s now just a sad remnants of a child that used to live here. Looking for his parents who he thinks left him, but unaware of the truth."
She trails over his abs playfully with the nail, drawing red marks on his skin — but not as deep like the first one.
"The truth is, he abandoned them. Drowning in these very hot spring. His parents left this place heartbroken, the loss of a child too great. We were lucky to find him, after rumours of disappearances here. It’s been many years since then, even as just a curse he was able to adapt to people around him, adjust his age and hide his cursed energy."
She wipes a feint tear and throws her head back in laughter. "I’m surprised you actually figured this out."
"So in order to stop him, we have to remove you first?" Satoru ask, encouraging her to blabber on.
"Ah yes, that was the error the previous sorcerers did. They only ‘removed’ him, but that would only temporarily fix the problem. We’re the reason he’s so strong."
"Thank you for your cooperation." Is all he said and in a blink of an eye the darkness is gone — only faint screams and then silence.
"Ah, shit. My shirts ruined." He mumbles looking down that curses handiwork. You roll your eyes at him while you stumble yourself on your feet.
How easily Satoru defeated your enemies proves that he indeed is the strongest. The thought of you being alone makes you shudder.
"Well, you only have yourself to blame for the shirt." He smirks at you.
"True, but I had a feeling a little skin would make that curse get all worked up. And there’s no secret that I’m easy on the eyes."
You snort in response, but you’re quickly silenced when he appears right in front of you — with a cheeky smile.
"Don’t try to pretend like you don’t agree. Now let’s go back, I need you to tend to my wounds."
-
"Hey, careful." He might be the strongest, but right now he’s acting more like a baby.
Satoru squirms underneath you, making it harder for you to clean his wounds. You shoot him a stern look — hoping it would be enough to make him lay still. Ineffective.
"Oh my god, will you stop moving." Gathering all your strength — pinning him down, which only results him grinning at you playfully.
"Okay I’ll lay still. Please don’t be so strict." Innocent eyes look up at you, persuading you to have sympathy for him.
It works, sadly. But you’re not going to let him know that.
"Maybe you shouldn’t have let that woman feel you up like that, bet you secretly enjoyed it. You perv."
"Curse* not woman. Is it jealousy I sense? Ouch!" You smack his stomach playfully — rolling your eyes at his stupid snickers.
"Hey, you…" Satoru’s voice change to a more gentle tone and you look at him — sincerity in his eyes, your heart starts to pond in your chest.
He wraps his hand around yours, his mouth now in a genuine smile. Satoru sits up slightly — supporting his weight on his elbows.
"Thank you." His voice in a gentle tone.
"For what—" your question is cut off by his lips touching yours, his movements gentle and careful.
Before you can reciprocate his kiss, he pulls back and looks at you — his dreamy blue orbs again pulls you into their depths.
With a loss of words you, you decide to throw yourself over him, resulting in his back hitting the mattress — a laugh escape his lips before it’s your turn to silence him.
You bravely go in for a kiss, your hands framing his head, fingers caressing his white locks. It takes Satoru a moment before he register what just happened, but when he does — he’s eager to kiss you back with passion.
His hands move down to your hips, lifting you up to sit on top of him — then they travel up your back and pull your body down to his.
Your breast rubs against his torso, a small whimper escape his mouth when your body rubs against his band-aided wound. He doesn’t care. Satoru figure he can withstand some pain if it meant he could enjoy the feeling of your body against his.
Tongues clashing between your mouths — your hips grinds against his — you moan in relief when the friction from his hardness rubs against your bundle of nerves.
Before pulling away, you give his bottom lip a soft bite — smiling in triumph when he moans. You lean into his hand cupping your cheek, returning the smile he’s giving you.
"Satoru, there’s still Yun." You mumble softly, his thumb stroking affectionate circles on the apple of your cheek.
"You wanna go find him?"
"Yes, we should finish the mission." Reluctantly you remove yourself from him. In all honesty, what you truly want is to jump his bones more right then and there.
But you couldn’t relax properly before the mission is finished, especially when you learned about Yun’s story — you frown at the thought, sadness wash over your face when you think about the boys suffering.
At least this time, those wicked witches aren’t here to prolong his sufferings.
"We’ll make sure the boy finds peace." Satoru comforts you, almost as if he read your mind.
-
You and Satoru are sitting next to each other — the train more crowded this time so you’re sitting in a two-man seat, facing the right way so he won’t get motion sickness.
Your head is resting on his shoulder trying your best to get some rest — thankfully this time Satoru lets you. The only disturbance from him is his fingers tracing soft strokes on the inside of your palm and up your forearm.
You’re enjoying it, the touch feels soothing — but you can’t seem to find it in your to rest. You think about how Yun cried and screamed in pain when you expelled him.
"Satoru, do you think he’s in a happier place now?"
His fingers move to your palm and wrap themselves around yours before he answers. Satoru know why you ask, he remember the sad look on your face and the tears streaming down you cheeks as you watched Yun disappear.
Satoru couldn’t really know for sure what happened to the boy after that, but anything is better than the endless suffering he had been through all those years.
"I believe he is." He leans in to kiss the crown of your head before leaning down to rest his cheek on the very spot.
"What will happen when we’re back home?" Fiddling with the hem of your shirt — your eyes looking down on your intertwined fingers.
There’s a long silence before he turn around to face you — and you do the same, he takes off his glasses to properly look at you.
You see his mouth turn into a cheeky grin.
"I don’t know, but one thing is for sure. I’m taking you out on a proper date when we’re back. If that’s what you want… I mean—." You giggle as you place a soft kiss on his flustered cheek and then one on his lips.
"I would love that."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
AN: phew, there. You finished it, good job on completing this story. Please give me feedback! I realise I suck at writing endings, so I’m just going to end it here. Thanks a lot for reading my story, hope you enjoyed it.
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fuckmymunson · 11 months
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eddie who has a reputation to uphold, the weird and scary freak who wears chains and big metal rings and always goes on tangents about his hatred for the popular kids, not a sliver of fear or weakness in his eyes. eddie who at the same time never leaves his house without the light yellow scrunchy with daisies on it that you gave him, always on his wrist or wrapped in his hair.
eddie who’s sweet n soft on you in a way he never is with anyone else 🥹
💌 a/n: Oh god, this, this, this, this. Please, I don’t ask for much. I’m so happy to get back to writing! Hope you like it!
🪷 Check my recent poll ¡! 📌
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“I lost it” His voice sounded almost defeated, and quite inopportune.
“Eddie!” You jolted in your place, closing the light green locker door. Behind it, there he was, the big, scary, mean freak of Hawkins High. Covered from head to toe in chains, leather, ripped jeans, black, black, all black. With dark, unruly hair and a chunky rings.
But also, with puppy eyes, and a quivering lip.
“You scared the shit out of me, Eds” The frown on your pretty face made his heart jump inside his chest. You were an angel, a sight for sore eyes.
“I lost it” He repeated.
“You lost what?”
“I’m sorry” Eddie looked down, apparently now his Reeboks were the most interesting thing.
“Care to explain what is missing and why are you apologizing?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you waited, for almost three minutes.
“I lost the scrunchy you gave me” He finally admitted, like a criminal at trial.
Eddie heard you sigh, to his ears, was a sigh of disappointment. In reality, it was a sigh of relief. Only Edward Munson knew how to make a simple thing as a scrunchy into a faithful message.
“That’s it? Eddie, it’s just a hair tie” You shook your head, still not comprehending the dimensions of his problem.
“It’s not just a hair tie!” He exclaimed, now almost offended, of course only he could switch mood that easily. A few curious students looked at your way, still wondering how did an adorable piece of cotton and sunshine like you, was dating the metalhead, three-times senior freak of not only high school, but of the whole town.
“Yes it is, love. I can just give you another one, don’t worry— Look, I can give you the one I’m wearing…”
“I don’t want that one” He said, his words sounding almost like a tantrum. “I want the one you gave me on our first date, the yellow one with little sunflowers”
“Daisies, Eddie” You corrected him with a smile. Only Eddie was able to remember such a tiny detail and forget a crucial detail.
Only Eddie was able to make you feel loved, cherished and appreciated. He was so different from every other person you have dated before. He snatched your heart from the very first day and it’s been a daily occurrence for almost a year. The scary, weird freak, the person considered a devil worshipper, the mean senior who had the admirable (or idiotic) courage to stand out against others who felt like they had the right to humiliate and ridicule those who weren’t like them. Your Eddie, the one who broke a jock’s nose one time for slapping your ass walking through the halls. Your Eddie, who waited patiently until every extracurricular activities you were into were over, so he could drive you home and hold your thigh and listen to you throughout the whole ride. Your Eddie, who loved Saturday night because it meant movie night, cuddles and kisses. The mean freak who let you braid his hair, paint his nails, sew his old t-shirts.
The Eddie Munson who was scared of spiders but wasn’t scared of a hundred people crowd. The boy who initiated a food fight at the cafeteria and had to go to the nurses office because an orange hit his eye and he realized he was allergic to them. The man who every Friday made fairy tales, knight stories and evil monsters come true and walk this very earth with just his voice and his imagination at his D&D club. Your Eddie, who on your first date, dropped a chocolate milkshake on top of your white dress, forgot to fill his fuel tank, and had to push his van all the way to the nearest gas station.
That’s how the bright scrunchy ended up in his hair, in a makeshift ponytail that you made by running your delicate fingers through his tangled hair.
That was your Eddie.
Your Eddie. Yours. Yours.
“Fine, let’s go find it” You said, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. “Tell me what you did today…”
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Sorry for any mistakes! English is not my first language. Thank you for reading!˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
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otomestatus · 3 months
Note
Can you do a Matsuno Chifuyu request about the the reader aka his girlfriend being called by his last name? Like the other Toman boys love to call Chifuyu’s girlfriend by his last name to mess with them and their reactions changing over time etc (hope this made enough sense…)
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a/n: i think this kinda isn't great, but i had fun taking my time writing it. :3c
excuse me, that's not my name !
"oi, matsuno!"
you turn around instinctively to the sound of your boyfriend's last name being called, but he was nowhere in sight when you did. raising a brow, your head tilted slightly to the left as you made eye contact with two of his toman friends. mitsuya and mikey were grinning from ear to ear from their table at a cafe.
"told you she'd respond to it!" mikey snickered. this only left you further confused. hesitantly, you stepped towards their table and rested a hand on your hip, head lulled to the side as you shot them a befuddled stare.
"well yeah. i thought chifuyu was around." you frowned while mikey leaned back in his chair with that smirk you knew too well. it spelled mischief. something nagged you to turn and walk away, but against your better judgement you stayed put.
"nah, his wifey is though." mitsuya laughed-- lighthearted and teasing-- when the realization hit you. his arm rested on the back of his chair as his own smirk spread across his face. your cheeks burned hot with an embarrassment you hadn't felt since your friends caught onto your crush.
you sigh, "you're both unbelievable... don't stay that in front of him, got it?"
that would save you quite a bit of embarrassment, but as soon as the words rolled off your tongue you knew you more than likely ended up instigating further teasing.
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you were gonna kill them plain and simple. at least that's what you told yourself as you stood there, mortified and speechless. it wasn't just mitsuya and mikey anymore as the rest of the captains had gotten in on their little joke as well. the moment you arrived for the toman meeting as requested by chifuyu, smiley did not hesitate to call out to you with his signature grin.
"good to see ya, matsuno!" he waved to you from across the flood of toman members scattered about in front of their typical meeting spot. you whipped your head around in response, but this time it wasn't because you thought he was speaking to chifuyu. no, you had grown vigilant of their little joke, fearful they'd use it in front of other people just as smiley had.
emma, who stood beside you, also glanced towards the fourth division captain with a lukewarm glare, "they're children! i tried to stop mikey, but he never listens..."
you hadn't bothered to even wave back and chose to turn your attention back on emma, "they're getting ballsy. i don't know what i'm gonna do if they start doing it in front of him."
"doing what in front of me?" a voice spoke out behind you, causing you to jump and whip around to meet your boyfriends curious gaze. his head was cocked slightly to as side and he had his hands shoved into his pockets.
"oh, uh-" you stuttered, but you didn't even get a chance to finish your response. draken walked up to your trio with a smirk plastered on his stupid face. his incredibly stupid and idiotic face that definitely deserved to get punched especially because of what he said as soon as he stopped in front of you three.
"sup matsuno." he sent a quick salute your way.
"oh hey." chifuyu greeted him back, clueless.
"not you, i'm talkin' to your girl." the vice commander corrected. chifuyu stared at him for a moment as if not registering what he said at first.
"...but her last name isn't-" he began, then quickly shut his mouth. a reddish hue slowly crept onto his cheeks as he held draken's stare and realization sunk in slowly. the intent was hard to miss. especially as draken's smirk widened in mischief. he let out a laugh and pat chifuyu on the back before walking away to meet up with mikey.
"man, you two are too easy!"
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this little "joke" of theirs had continued on for another week. honestly, it seemed as if there was no end to it. the only toman member who didn't participate in it was takemichi which were you very grateful towards him for that. he could laugh whenever he heard it, yes, but he stuck to calling you by your name. well, if it embarrasses you why would i say it? and when he said that it made you think. was it really something to be so embarrassed about?
you rest your cheek against the palm of your hand that was being supported by your elbow. chifuyu sat across from you staring menacingly at his study notes. you studied the way his blonde hair fell over his forehead and the length of his lashes as his eyes focused on the notebook in front of him. the memories of that day were painted so vibrantly in your mind while you could hardly remember just what you had done yesterday.
in a secluded spot behind the school with a white envelope in your trembling fingers, you could only focus on your shoes blow you. your face, red and burning, and chifuyu standing in front of you. you never gave yourself the opportunity to look him directly in his face as the anxiety had rose to overwhelming levels. how fast could you make it to the girls bathroom on the first floor? your lunch threatened to reveal itself. and his response after an agonizing silence caught you off guard the most.
yes, you remember it very well, very vividly. since that day you both had been inseparable. your love for him only continued to blossom. so should it really be embarrassing to be referred to by his last name? if fate would be so kind perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to imagine a forever with him.
"huh? you okay?" chifuyu's voice snapped you back to reality. your cheeks flushed with a gentle pink as you dropped your pencil on your notebook.
"y-yeah. just thinking." you murmur in response.
chifuyu smiles, "yeah, me too! hey, so what did you get for number three?"
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it had become very natural to come with your boyfriend to his meetings even if you didn't go very often. it wasn't unusual by any means either. many other toman girlfriends also would show up and chat among each other. you were no different, but the hierarchy was clear even if it wasn't spoken. this meant your relationship with the vice-captain of the first division had some perks and drawbacks. boyfriends encouraged their girlfriends to mingle in an effort to build a reputation and possibly move through the ranks.
that's where you found yourself. not being surrounded really, but definitely being regarded quite frequently and this meeting was no different. toman members gathered in front of the musashi shrine and the girls flocked together to chat and catch up. you were deep in a conversation with emma when you heard someone call out to you.
"hey, takemitchy wants to get something to eat after the meeting. wanna come?" chifuyu strolled up, throwing his thumb back over his shoulder to point at takemichi who was engaged in conversation with draken.
"oh, sure." you lean slightly to the right to get a look at them before shooting a smile at your boyfriend.
"if it ain't the matsunos." hakkai calls out as he approaches the both of you.
"hakkai-!" chifuyu begins, but you cut him off with an unexpected response.
"oh, hey." you turn to face the taller boy fully.
hakkai appears dumbfounded for a second as this was clearly not the response he intended for. chifuyu was just as shocked. any irritation he felt had quickly melted away, but his cheeks remained pink.
chifuyu makes a face, "wha-?"
you turn your head slightly to meet his eyes, a wide smile spreading across your face, "what? you look confused!"
"yeah, well, you just- i mean- i thought you didn't like it when they called you that." he mumbled, his shoulders falling lax.
"mmm..." you put a finger to your chin in thought, "i guess i just don't see anything wrong with it anymore!"
chifuyu opens his mouth then shuts it. he's unable to conjure any words in response, but a grin breaks out on his face soon after. he chuckles, "oh, cool then."
you laugh at his response. hakkai stands there not sure what else to do but figure another roundabout way to tease you both. of course, you were far more focused on the elated expression your boyfriend wore after your interaction with him set in. yeah, it honestly wasn't so bad.
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helluvapoison · 2 months
Text
You were a rare soul— and that means something down here. You didn’t care about holding the title Overlord, nor the power that came with it. You had exactly zero souls under your belt, yet people… respected you. Not feared, respected. A peculiar word to hear in Hell.
Your name was uttered quieter than a whisper, like saying it an octave too loud would summon you.
The Rat King.
Soon you would meet…
˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer Morningstar ⁎⁺˳✧༚
warnings: gn reader, language, angst, canon divergence
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
• He thought it was very brave (re: idiotic) to carry the title king in his domain
• Lucifer came to you out of boredom, absurdity, and— no shit— the slightest bit of self indulgence! He was supposed to see this so called second king and rip them a new asshole. Except you weren’t a king— not even close
• He scoured you toes to head, seemingly unimpressed. Not rat-like, not king-like. Lucifer knew himself well enough to know he should have been bored by now. His expectations plummeted, nothing was going according to plan. And yet.. he found himself more curious than before
“You’re this ‘Rat King’ I hear so much about?”
“I guess so” You shrugged, “But I didn’t pick that name for myself.”
• You properly introduced yourself to the one and only king. Your real name tasted interesting on his tongue. Lucifer tested it thrice as he shook your hand, relooking you over like he missed something
• Apparently they called you The Rat King because you were in the secret trading business. Give one, get one. Simple as that. You explained the rules to him over a cup of tea that he asked for. It wasn’t his first or second choice of blend but he drank it to be polite. No other motive. Definitely not because there was a question on the tip of his split tongue
• Lucifer wasn’t the most observant of people. He couldn’t tell what people were thinking, he wasn’t fluent in body language. So when he caught your eyes bouncing between his tight grip on the chipped cup you offered him, to his jittery knee sticking out from where he sat. His body and his head were, for one, in agreeance; leave, they told him. He didn’t like to be sized up and that was always his go to answer for why someone was watching him so intently. But with his chest facing you, and his heart in control, he stayed put
• “Lilith.” He choked out, “I want any knowledge you have on her.”
Saying her name out loud hurt more than he thought it would. It was acid in his belly, smoke in his lungs, and fire on his tongue.
Your smile faded.
“What?” He scoffed, “Lemme guess, you want something, right? A deal? I have to make a deal to find my own wife? Let’s get this over with then! I’m the fucking King of Hell, whatever you want is—“
Your hand shot out so suddenly that Lucifer was almost disappointed. He was expecting this. Right? This is what Sinners did, it’s why they were here. Why was he hoping you’d be different? And, more importantly, when did hope creep into his system again? He hadn’t been on good terms with the feeling in decades.
• However, Lucifer’s disappointment was killed before it could spread. Gently, so gently he could cry, you took his hand and pushed it, palm down, onto the table. Your eyes never left his. There was something about them that captivated him. He loathed it. It made him feel small. Not the kind of small that equaled insignificant, either.
No, it was worse.
Vulnerable.
“I don’t do deals,” You said quickly and it had Lucifer wondering if those eyes of yours saw how his mind was spiraling.
Stealing his hand back, ignoring how he immediately missed the contact, he wiped it on his pants.
A suspicious glare took over his face, “You—?What? You don’t do deals? What does that even mean!?”
“I just… trade secrets,” You sounded so defeated, “I don’t need deals for that. But I don’t have any secrets about the queen. I’m sorry.”
• Lucifer expected pity to rear its ugly head from you any moment now. His pride couldn’t take that hit, not today. What was it about you that made him so fucking transparent?
• The uncomfortable silence began creeping into the insufferably small shop of yours. It was fucking suffocating.
“I wish I could help you, I really do.” You said softly.
He really wished you would stop doing that. Your softness felt like a dagger to the heart. Reminding him it existed was agony he thought he’d never feel again.
• “Not one?” Lucifer asked bitterly.
Not a single one of these undeserving demons and sinners that Lilith loved so much spoke about her? Not a whisper or a rumor? They just forgot about her? It’s only been 4 years!
“I’m sorry, your majesty, if I hear something, I can—“
“No… No, it’s fine.” Lucifer cut you off, holding up his hand. His wedding ring blinded him with a sparkling gleam. He sighed, “I think we’re done here.”
• You stepped behind him cautiously, walking him to the door.
“You’re welcome to come back?”
He scoffed out a laugh, grinning at you from over his shoulder, “You’re not getting any of my secrets.”
A smile of your own began to spread.
“I also dabble in conversation.”
_
(part one? or move on to the next character? i dunno if i feel like continuing but want this to be as interactive as possible so tell me what you would like to see!)
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ghost-proofbaby · 9 months
Text
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
HOUR NINETEEN
in which everything changes.
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, smut (p in v), almost shower sex, talk of male masturbation, oral (f receiving), upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ wc: 7.7k+
→ a/n: big shout out to @myosotisa for beta-reading this chapter so that for once, it's not unedited, and it's not just between me and god.
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
◁ previous part, next part▷
19:00 ─────────────ㅇ── 24:00
DINGUS: so either these two are getting along REALLY well or they truly still hate each other’s guts
NANCE: Why do you say that?
DINGUS: when i called to make sure they weren’t dead, it sounded like they were arguing over the line. 
BIRDIE: woah woah woah, hold on. dingus. are you telling me you just SPIED on the lovebirds? or did this ‘fight’ happen during your conversation?
DINGUS: it wasn’t spying! eddie answered and rushed off the line, but it sounded like he forgot to hang up. i was just… curious.
NANCE: No, you were SPYING on them. 
ARGYLE 😎: what did they say, dude? 
BIRDIE: yeah let’s drop the morality bullshit – what’d you hear, my lovely oblivious spy? 
DINGUS: @BIRDIE NOT A SPY. 
DINGUS: but it just sounded like eddie asking her if she was, and i quote, “fucking kidding him”. He sounded weird when he was talking to me, too.
BIRDIE: the most romantic words to ever be spoken. truly. 
NANCE: Was that all you heard?
DINGUS: yeah, i hung up after that. why?
ARGYLE 😎: should’ve stayed on the line.
BIRDIE: what he said.
JOHNNY BOY: Do you people have no morals? 
HOUR NINETEEN – 10:00 AM
It becomes glaringly obvious to you that your comment had been a little too spot on after several minutes of waiting for Eddie to return. 
You hadn’t expected him to really leave you high and dry after that, to just go and take care of himself rather than include you in that process. Honestly, you thought the two of you were finally past hiding behind closed doors. But clearly, you had been wrong. Very, very wrong. And now, the consequences of your own actions were mocking you; there was an insistent, uncomfortable, unignorable burn in the pit of your stomach, and every shift of your thighs that had your underwear grazing your clit had you desperate, nearly mewling and arching your back. The longer you laid on that couch and realized what Eddie was currently doing, the more hot and bothered you grew. 
Fuck him. You’re about ten seconds away from taking care of your own problem right here, right now, on this god forsaken couch. 
Your ears perk involuntarily for any and all noises that may come from the hallway, but five minutes of silence tells you that Eddie had learned his lesson. He wasn’t going to be loud again. 
Fuck him. 
At least if he was falling apart by his own hand, he should have the decency to let you hear such, obviously. If he was going to finish what the two of you started alone with just him and his hand and the polished porcelain of his bathroom, you would have at least appreciated something to get you going, to urge your imagination to roam free through a conglomeration of both fantasies and memories. But, no – the man was so silent, you were beginning to fear he might be dead. 
Maybe he was dead. Death by blue balls. Good. Fuck him.
Your thighs squeeze together once more of their own free will, and you throw your head back violently to groan at the persistent throbbing. You couldn’t even be angry at him, not in a genuine sense, because you had insisted on talking rather than continuing whatever Deftones had started. What a dumb, idiotic, catastrophic decision. What a painful hill to die on. What a shit move on your part. 
It doesn’t take long before you make the choice to stop laying there, wallowing in your misery. If you weren’t going to take care of your problem, and if you were regretting your choices so desperately, you were an adult. He was down the hall, he was here for now, and there was nothing stopping you from just marching up to the door. This wasn’t anything like the beginning hours – the man had seen you bare before him far too many times for you to be shy. He had just been dry humping you like some teenager on his couch. 
No, you didn’t need to have shame right now. At least, not for these last five hours. 
You get up quick enough to make yourself dizzy, swinging your legs and making the soles of your feet connect with the living room floor with resounding slaps. A bit aggressive, and it might startle whoever had the displeasure of living below Eddie, but you don’t care. You have a one track mind, and you force your body into action before you can chicken out. 
You have him. At some wild capacity, the man behind the bathroom door is yours. Whether it be temporary, whether it had started before this night or would last beyond this experience, it was still a matter of fact. You have him – God, you have him so tightly that you don’t even doubt you’re the one on his mind right now as he does what you’re sure he’s doing behind this door – and it was time to accept that he has you. 
He has had you for a while, you realize a few steps away from the bathroom. The moment he had you laughing at his side in some smokey bar all those moons ago, he had first caught you in his web. You hate that it took this long, that it took this moment that should be laced with embarrassment, to let it all settle into acceptance. Like rubble of a destroyed building, the dust is clearing and all you can see is him. Him, with his stupid fucking dimples. Him, with his wide shoulders. Him, with all his twisted words and confusing actions. He’s had you in his grasp – it’s the only way anyone would have been able to get under your skin like he has this past year. 
“Eddie?” you call out as you rap your knuckles on that wooden door, a few too many times for good measure. Your ears strain now that you’re closer, thinking you might catch subtle sounds out of him. Heavy breaths, slick skin, mute whimpers. Anything.
You get nothing for a solid ten seconds.
And then, you hear him clearing his throat, obnoxiously so, before answering, “Y-Yeah?” 
Unsure. He’s stuttering, and the footing of his words is unstable. You were fucking right. 
“Are you��” you start, pinching your eyes shut, shooing away that internal wave of heat as your mind runs wild and imagines him behind the door. The way he’d be naked, the way his fist would curl around the base of his cock, the way his tip has never failed to be the exact same shade of pink as his lips- “Are you still alive in there?” 
Because I’m certainly not out here. 
“Oh, me?” he chuckles nervously, “Yeah, I-I’m good. Sorry, just got distracted!” 
By what? you nearly call in response, your dick in your hands? 
You don’t say it outloud. You have some restraint. 
“That’s fine…” you trail off, unsure of what exactly you should say all while biting your tongue. 
Your mind is still reeling for a possible ending for that thought when Eddie calls out, “I’m gonna take a shower, ‘s all. You cool with that?” 
No. No, I’m not fucking cool with that. 
“Oh!” you squeak out instead, “Yeah, yeah. That’s… that’s fine. Sorry, I’ll just…”
You trail off again as you begin to take a few steps back from the door, making your way back to the living room painstakingly slowly. You’ve hardly moved an inch when you hear the shower turn on inside the bathroom, stuttering a few times as the water begins its flow, static rising from the way it splatters into the tub. 
And then it turns off. Mere seconds later, as quickly as the flow of water had begun, the creaking in the pipes cease. You take another step back until your back bumps into the wall of the hallway, across and veered away from the bathroom door – the throbbing between your thighs still irritating and your confusion even more palpable. 
Wasn’t he going to take a shower? Did he just turn it on to get you to walk away? Were you hallucinating just how quickly the seconds were passin-
The bathroom door is suddenly thrown open with Eddie in the middle of calling out your name, those pajama pants hanging dangerously low on his hips. The moment his eyes land on your, his beckoning for you dies in his throat before he has to clear it. “Oh. Uh, hey.” 
Why were you both being so fucking awkward? 
“Hi,” you breathe out, pressing further into the wall. You felt like a child being caught doing wrong, as if he hadn’t been aware of your proximity to the door just moments before. 
Maybe he was going to find it creepy that you had lingered for so long, and were still so close. You don’t know – you can’t think clearly as you look at the bare skin of his chest and try to decipher whether the moisture gathered there is sweat or condensation from the steam of the shower. 
“Sorry, I just-” he cuts himself off this time before a hand reaches up to his hair, now down and unfurled around his shoulders. His palm presses back his bangs and you can see the moment that all the tension of awkwardness finally snaps, “Oh, fuck this. Do you want to shower with me?” 
Once it snaps for him, you feel your own clinging to it release. It slips from between your fingers slowly, and you come to the realization that there’s no heat emitting from the bathroom behind him – that moisture wasn’t from steam, he didn’t even have the water on long enough for it to get that hot. You should have realized that immediately, but your mind was working slowly through the fog. 
“You don’t have to,” you hadn’t answered him fast enough, and you’re watching him backpedal right before your eyes. 
A quick shake of your head and the smile that splits your lips stops all of his backwards movements, makes his head tilt to the side and a smirk graces his features when you finally reply, “I thought you’d never ask.” 
He shifts to the side of the doorway naturally, leaving just enough room for you to brush past him and let your shoulder knock slightly against his chest once you push off the wall eagerly. 
There’s still a puddle of water at the base of the tub, circling the drain as Eddie closes the door behind your entrance. It’s a bit redundant considering you’re the only two here, but you don’t say a word. You just let your eyes trace over the droplets of water racing down his shower curtain, properly focus in on his toothbrush on the sink and the tube of toothpaste beside it curled up over half the length. 
It hits you all at once, how this game of tension is so ridiculous. “We’re so stupid.”
Eddie is shocked by your snort, “Excuse me?” 
“We’re stupid,” you repeat yourself, “Why are we acting like middle schoolers who just held hands? You’ve seen me naked, for fucks sake. We’ve-” you cut off and turn to him abruptly, waving your hands wildly in the space between you two, “We’ve already crossed this line a million times, Eddie. And we just… it’s like, we keep putting one foot on the other side of it, dip our toes into it, and then take it back when it’s all said and done.” 
A boring dance. The two of you were taking part in the most boring dance of tension the world had ever seen, and only the four walls of Eddie’s apartment had the pleasure of being audience to it. 
You expect his laughter to come out in a bark, but it’s subtle instead, face relaxing in realization at what you mean, “Jesus. I- I mean, you’re right. But does that make us stupid? I think it’s kinda cute, personally.”
“Cute?” you lurch forward ever so slightly, grinning with your teeth. Eddie’s eyes squint up a bit from how widely he grins in return at your amusement, “What about this is cute?” 
“The way you keep getting so nervous around me,” Eddie shrugs, killing off the distance between you as he moves in front of you. You straighten up quickly, and he’s fast to tuck the loose strands of your hair behind your ear, “The way I keep getting so nervous around you.” 
“That’s not cute, that’s just… stupid.” 
“Same thing.”
“It definitely isn’t.” 
You’re close enough to kiss him. And you realize easily that this may be your favorite place in the world, toe-to-toe with him and nearly brushing noses, feeling each breath like a huff of wind on the highs of your cheekbones. 
“Agree to disagree,” he whispers before his lips duck down to yours. The hand that had tucked away your strands of hair had never left your face, you realize, palm now cupping your cheek as he tugs you closer to him. 
Warmth spreads across your chest, brings spring to all the vines you’ve been catering to for a year now. Being able to step back and call this for what it was, ridiculous, makes it all a bit easier to bear. 
It’s just his lips against yours, the shower not even running yet, the gasps that emit from both of you serving as a white noise instead. 
“Is this,” he breaks away from you, only pulling back his lips and leaving his forehead resting against yours with his hand still curled on your cheek, “still stupid?” 
“Even more so,” you nod and he moves his head with yours, almost making you laugh more, “So, so stupid.”
More kisses are exchanged, wandering hands trying to find new curves on the other’s body, before Eddie goes through the motions of turning his shower back on. You notice that from the looks of it, he does turn it on as hot as it can get. It occurs to you that these are small details you’d like to know – how hot he prefers his showers, whether he prefers to take them in the morning or at night, what scent of body wash he swears by – and that you only had so much time to learn the answer to not even half of your curiosities. 
Time. Time was not on your side. 
“You know,” you drawl as Eddie finally kicks off his pants, you soon following his lead as if this was nothing. Because it wasn’t. The two of you had been naked before each other. You weren’t two middle schoolers who had just shared a first kiss or held hands – you were two adults who had had sex, who had admitted to being attracted to each other if nothing more, “You never did say what you’re actually doing with the money.” 
“Again with that conversation?” Eddie asks, pausing with his thumbs hooked in the band of his boxers. 
“Again,” you affirm, tossing your shirt into the same corner that his pants had been discarded, “Can you blame me for being curious? Aren’t you curious what I’m doing with my money?” 
He thinks for a second as you strip off your underwear, leaving you completely naked first. “I mean, I sort of am.”
“College,” you supply easily. You don’t even wait for him to properly ask. He purses his lips and you catch the way his eyes sweep over your nude body quickly before he yanks off his last article of clothing, “College, and then all my debt. Then maybe I can start saving like a real adult. Move to some fancy city once I graduate. Make a…” you pause and make a conscious effort to not let your eyes wander as his had, “Make a real life for myself, I guess.”
“You sound so excited.” 
He’s being sarcastic, you know it, but it begs the question – were you excited about the prospective? All you had ever known was school. Your entire personality has been built thus far on being a student.
So what comes next? Settling into some boring nine to five job that hardly satisfies the dreams that were born of your major? Getting underpaid, getting bored with monotony but telling yourself you were satisfied? 
And that doesn’t even scratch the surface of the bigger questions of the future. You haven’t even spared a thought to kids, to getting married, to life past the next two years. 
“I mean… I am,” you shrug and step into the shower first, Eddie following close behind you and listening intently, “It’ll be nice to finally have the damn piece of paper to say ‘hey! I did it!’” 
“But?” he presses, scooting the two of you around in the small space so that he was standing directly beneath the spray of water. His curls flatten against his head immediately. 
“No buts,” you insist. As if you’re trying to convince yourself more of it than him. 
“So that’s all? You just want to get out of here?” he isn’t looking at you as he reaches for a bottle of shampoo, blinking water out of his eyes. 
This conversation is going surprisingly well. 
“Not here specifically,” you clarify. Your chest aches at the thought of just leaving behind all the friends you’d made, the life you had started in this city. The thought of already beginning to preemptively tear it down was enough to dampen your mood worse than the steam of the shower was doing to your hair, “I don’t know. Who cares about the future? What are you doing with your money?” 
He’s about to squirt some of the shampoo into the palm of his hand when you suddenly snatch it from him, holding up a finger and twirling it in a demanding manner. He’s shocked, but he turns for you regardless, even bending his knees as he gets the message. 
He doesn’t question the fact that you’re about to wash his hair. No protests towards something so domestic between previously sworn enemies. 
“I wasn’t lying earlier,” he starts just as you have lathered up your palms and set aside the shampoo on the shower ledge, fingertips digging right into his scalp. Even with the slight bend in his posture, your arms have to stretch to reach the crown of his head, “A new bike or guitar would be nice but– Oh,” a particular scratch of your nails has him faltering in his words, throwing his head back a bit more and humming. The throb, the ache, the burn returns. “Oh, that’s nice.” 
“Keep talking, pretty boy,” you murmur as he hums even louder. 
“Well, I… It’s not a lot of money, y’know? I mean, it is. But it also isn’t. Am I making any sense? Fuck, that feels good,” he stumbles across his point as your fingers continue small circles, and you already know without looking that his eyes have fluttered shut. 
The pit of your stomach can only rally, twisting and tumbling at his satisfaction. Something so domestic and something you had started with sweet intentions was quickly derailing, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. 
You have him. But you don’t have him. The same type of conundrum he faces with the amount of money promised to the both of you if you were to survive these hours. 
“You’re making sense,” you promise with a shy grin you know he can’t see, “Like, I know the money won’t pay off all my debts or college tuition, but it’s a good start. Anyways, as you were saying?” 
Both of you struggle to focus as he continues on, melting even further into your touch, “I dunno. Maybe if I have anything leftover, I’ll send it to my uncle.” 
His voice is strained as he’s occupied with the feeling of your hands against his scalp, and you know it’s a throwaway sentence, but the small detail of his life you’ve been awarded doesn’t go unnoticed.
Uncle? Why uncle? 
“You in debt to your uncle over a bad night of gambling or somethin’?” you try to joke as you finally release your fingertips from his scalp. Your palms come down on his shoulders as you spin him slowly, encouraging him to keep his head tipped back as he lets the water wash away the suds produced. 
Surprisingly, his shampoo doesn’t smell like boy. It’s akin to green apples, maybe something smoother beneath it all like coconut. Something sweet and something innocent. 
Maybe that’s what has him being so open to you as he explains, “I’ll always be in debt to him, but not for gambling. He raised me. My folks… weren’t the best. I owe everything to that man.” 
There are no good words to respond with. You suddenly feel selfish for pushing him to admit it, and for making that joke to begin with. 
But he only cracks open his eyes as the suds are mostly gone, looking at you through squinty eyes as he grins, “Guess I’m the boner killer now, huh?” 
You snort again (fuck, had he always been this funny?) and shake your head, finally glimpsing below his hips. 
Ironic of him to say that he was a boner killer when there he was, harder than ever for you, tip pink and glistening in a taunt towards you. 
You were both going to Hell. You were standing in his shower, talking about his uncle, both far too horny for the topic of conversation. 
“Modern day Bonnie and Clyde, but make it horny,” you manage to get out, still staring at him and resisting the urge to reach out and start something you didn’t know how to finish, “Does talking about money always get you this hard?” 
“Bonnie and Clyde were robbers, not killers,” he corrects you, “And why, yes. How did you know? Do you plan to use this lethal information against me again later?” 
A cavern in your chest screams out, when is later? Later within the next four hours, or later within the next year? Will you ever even give me a chance to use this against you again? 
You laugh along with his joke instead. 
“Absolutely. Also, who the fuck knows that much about Bonnie and Clyde?” 
You make him turn around again, and repeat a similar process with the conditioner. The entire time, you try to not think about the awareness that the same burn in your own gut is alight in him. 
He shrugs a little, bends a little more to encourage your fingertips back to his scalp. It doesn’t work — you’re focusing the conditioner on the drier ends of his curls. “I do.”
“Well, that’s just weird.” 
You work in silence as you finish threading the conditioner through and detangling his hair with just your fingers. You don’t immediately have him rinse it out, and he takes the opportunity to reward you with the same care, the same domesticity. And just as he hadn’t questioned you, you don’t protest when he manhandles you to spin and face your back to him. You let him indulge you in the same massaging motions that you had just pampered him with, let suds of that sweetness surround you as your eyes shut delicately and you lean your head back into his deliberate touches.
Same care, same domesticity, same sensuality. You never thought washing someone’s hair could be something so intimate until his knuckles are between your locks and your back is brushing up against his chest due to limited space.
“It’s not about the money,” he randomly announces to you once the shampoo has been rinsed out and the conditioner takes its place. “I mean, I figured you knew that, but… still thought I’d say.” 
“Figured as much.”
“I also wasn’t pissing,” he continues to overshare, “I know you figured as much there too.” 
Biting your bottom lip to hold back a grin, you keep the rest of your face relaxed as you nonchalantly ask, “No? What distracted you, then?” 
You can feel every deep breath he takes. The expansion of his chest only presses the two of you closer. Soon, you should both rinse out the conditioner. You should stop wasting water. The two of you should get out of this damn confining space and sleep, do something useful, make the most of the final four hours. 
Instead, you’re letting yourself get lost in billows of steam, and teasing him. And maybe that’s something useful for you. 
“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?” 
You can hear his grin. God, you can hear his grin and those stupid dimples making an appearance without needing to see his face.
“Say what?” you ploy faux innocence. His fingers are still in your hair. He has no reason to continue to comb them through, but they remain there, grazing your scalp and brushing the back of your neck.
His chin meets your shoulder suddenly, his breath on your ear. “What did you call this earlier, sweetheart? I believe you called it… stupid.” 
Right. Stupid. 
Stupid was the ache that resided inside you for him. Stupid was the way your thighs shook from how hard they pressed together from each soft caress of his breath on the shell of your ear. Stupid was the urge to reach your arm around your back and grab onto him, any part of him, and try to pull him as closely as humanly possible — and then some. 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
You’re a bad liar. And he loves it.
“Right,” he draws out the single syllable, hands leaving your hair, drifting at sea as they find comfort on your biceps, touch feather light, “You have no idea what I was doing in here. You weren’t staying by the door to see if you could hear me, trying to get a free show.” 
So you had been right in calling the two of you stupid. Neither of you had been very conspicuous. 
“A free show to what?” you keep up the act of innocence and swallow down the delighted hun when his hands move down your arms. You’re fully flush to his chest now, almost to the point of leaning your weight back against him.
“To me touching myself to you,” bold, crass words leave his lips, “To me fucking my fist to the thought of you. Squeezing my fist around my cock, trying to make it feel like that sweet pussy.” 
Your knees nearly buckle. You try to play it cool, “Oh? Is that what you were doing?”
His playful chuckle is the final straw, and his hands now on your waist are the only thing keeping you upright.
“I was.”
“And were you successful?”
How you kept your tone so steady, so even, was lost on you. 
“I wasn’t.”
One hand stays planted on your waist firmly, as if he knows he’s the only thing keeping you from collapsing in this heat between the two of you. The other dares to round to the front of your stomach, fingers splayed and fingertips almost tickling you as he lets them run down the center of your navel. He’s taking his time. Slowly, painfully, his hand travels. Down, down, down. Until his fingertips are grazing right over that fire he built inside you, mere inches from where you need him to touch you most. He has you right where he wants you, and he knows it.
And so he stops. Inches, maybe less, from where your cunt is throbbing for him. 
“Didn’t you say you were good with your fingers?” you’re trying to keep up a cool facade, but it’s becoming useless at this point. Your voice comes out a whine, and your hips subtly buck against empty air to try to encourage his touch lower.
“I did,” he hums directly into your ear. The hand on your waist becomes an arm fully wrapped around your front, and the press of your back to his chest becomes far more intentional. All of it to hold you in place as he moves his hand right over where you want him. He avoids your body’s pleas, and jumps straight to teasing his fingertips over the tops of your thighs. “Wouldn’t you agree?” 
It’s almost funny to remember how flustered he was when he’d first made the comment, how quick he had been to defend it against being something dirtier, only to now be using it against you in anything but an innocent context.
“Please,” the beg falls from your lip as you give up on the game.
It’s a combination of all his gentle touches, the feeling of his curls between your knuckles, the steam that is smothering the two of you without notice, the way you can still feel every damn breath of his. Both through his mouth now softly kissing at the lobe of your ear, and his chest that only presses more tightly to you. That tightening arm around your waist, and the subtle change of position of his knee.
You aren’t expecting it, and your feet slide apart quickly, nearly dropping onto his sweetly placed leg between yours. 
“Please what, sweetheart?” 
You can’t even recall the feeling of hatred you used to get at the nickname. Now, in its place, is something buzzing, something buttery, something contradictory. You’re dizzy with satisfaction from the way he murmurs it directly into your ear. 
“Please touch me,” you gasp when his knee brushes upwards, not quite reaching where you need him. You swear there’s a pulse now, a throbbing cry that would do just about anything to feel those hands on you, “Please, please.” 
You’re losing focus as your thoughts start to fuzz at the edges, suddenly only able to manage the words please and his name.
And it isn’t lost on him. “Look at you. I haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re already going so dumb for me, aren’t you?” 
Your stomach churns, everything in you tightens, and your pride isn’t above dropping yourself down properly onto his knee and grinding. You would if you could — his fucking arm won’t let you.
When you glance down, you realize just how tight his grip is. You can trace each vein along his forearm, catch the white of his knuckles as they curl against you.
He’s holding onto you for dear life, and yet his death grip doesn’t so much as hurt. You only feel safe, you only feel wanted. 
“Please just touch me, Eddie,” you whimper out, not caring about how desperate you sound anymore. You have no shame, no pride, no careful calculations left for the man behind you. 
His hands stop their dance across the apex of your thighs. One moment, you can barely feel his fingertips running over their softness, and the next, it vanishes completely. 
You open your mouth to protest, but all that comes out is a gasp as his fingers are suddenly on your cunt, spreading you apart at a leisurely pace. You move to grab onto his forearm for leverage but he suddenly tsks and stops all of his movements. 
“You can either have me touch you, or you touch me. But you can’t have both, sweetheart. Not right now.” 
Through the haze, you’re unable to use your words to answer, instead cracking your eyes back open and trying to crane your neck to see Eddie properly. But he’s only chuckling into your ear again, arm around your waist tightening. 
“C’mon, baby. Use your words. Which would you rather have?” he taunts, tilting his chin down and letting his nose nuzzle against the peak of your shoulder, lips barely brushing the skin. 
You would have expected to not even catch the subtle feeling of plushness on you right now between your ever-growing frustration and the water still raining down on both of you. But you do; your body is growing acutely aware of every single point of contact between the two of you as the minutes go on. Every inch of your skin is tuned into his touch and where it flows, where it leaves you, where it presses deeper. 
You open your mouth to respond to him, but you can’t. You can’t explain it: there isn’t a tightness in your throat, a pain grasp on your chest, a fear that is swallowing the words whole. It’s the opposite. All of your taut strings have gone slack, waves of surrendering to him having overcome all of your deepest anxieties. In this moment, amongst the white noise of a shitty apartment shower, all that there exists is him. The time limit slips away, the bet is a thing of the past, and the road taken to bring you both here is completely forgotten. 
His touch is able to remain light when he decides to turn you in his arm, the grip once around your waist now pressing into your lower back as you face him. You’re completely malleable for him to do as he wishes. 
Facing him, you watch all of the amusement and cockiness melt away from his features. His smirk goes soft and his face falls in awe, mouth parted as he takes in that look in your eyes. He knows. He knows that in this moment, you are completely defenseless and utterly his. 
You watch all the air leave his lungs, and feel the consequential breath that releases hit the bridge of your nose due to the proximity. “You really are cock drunk for me right now, aren’t you? I haven’t even given it to you yet and you’re just… gone.” 
If you weren’t completely under his spell at this moment, you would have burned with embarrassment down to the bone. 
You just nod. 
With this revelation, his grip on you completely transforms. It’s not just a matter of keeping you upright, but a matter of keeping you tethered to him. As if he’s afraid that the moment he lets go, he loses you. 
If you could find the words, you’d assure him that he wouldn’t. You weren’t something so fleeting, so passing. 
Without words, all you can do is show him. So you press up onto your tip-toes and kiss him. Hard, then soft. Fervently, then patiently. Achingly, and then assuredly. Every flash of contradiction between the two of you and all that has accumulated goes into the kiss as you let him find his breath again, solely by stealing yours. 
“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs against your lips, before his nose rubs against the tip of yours as it begins a journey. Across your cheek, down your jaw, into the crook of your neck. You feel spouts of warm water trickle over his collarbones and against your own. 
This time, you do have the words for him. Or rather, the word for him.
“You.”
There’s no other way to put it. You just want him. 
He pulls back and stares directly into your eyes, his own brown ones swarming with varied emotions. You’re finally able to start deciphering some of them – lust, want, surprise – but not quite all of them yet. 
Before you realize what’s happening, he’s sinking to his knees. Somehow, he’s twisted you so that your back meets the cool tile of the wall, careful in watching the way it supports you during the entirety of his descent. 
He doesn’t say a word, his eyes doing all the talking necessary through wet lashes as he guides you to balance a foot on the edge of the tub and hook your knee onto his shoulder. Just as you realize what he’s doing, his mouth is on your hot cunt. 
For all the talk and thoughts about just how good his fingers were, you seemed to have forgotten just how good his mouth was. 
His tongue works away at your clit, tracing patterns before alternating to suck it sharply between his lips. He seems to have forgotten about his earlier threat, or maybe he’s just feeling merciful, as your hands instinctively reach down and wind into the roots of his wet hair. Curls matt in your grasp instantly. A harsh tug, and he’s moving his attention elsewhere, nose now nudging your clit as he circles around your entrance, pulling whines from deep within you at the teasing. 
“Eddie,” you throw your head back hard enough that you’re sure that there will be an ache to feel once all is said and done, “Fuck. Right there.”
“I see someone’s found their words,” his voice is muffled and you can feel his smirk rather than see it. 
It’s a damn pretty sight. Him, on his knees, wet curls plastering down his shoulders and back as his face is buried between your thighs. 
You can trace over each indent of muscle across his skin through half-lidded eyes, memorize the way it looks dazzling with the moisture, watch as water pools where his fingers dig into your thighs to keep you balanced. 
When his tongue finally slips inside of you, slow and stretching as the tip of his nose digs deeper into your clit, you swear you’re seeing stars. You were going to snarkily reply, but you don’t have the capacity to reply with anything other than chants of his name. Mixtures of praying to him and praying to God fall from your lips alongside curses. All muddled, all strings of whimpers and moans as he continues to bring you closer to your edge. When he finally resorts to bringing his hand back into the mix, sinking two fingers into your cunt with little warning as he returns to lazy work on your clit, you gasp out – your body lurches forward as your curl into him and your back leaves the now sticky, warm wall. 
The arm that was wrapped around your lifted leg to help you balance is quick to throw over your hips, keeping half your body still pressed to the wall. “Careful, princess.” 
Each word reverberates through you, both physically and somewhere deep in your mind, sending you even further reeling as your fingers grab onto him deeper and try to press him impossibly close. 
Princess. Somewhere along crossing all these lines, you have ventured into new territory. A territory where the nicknames get under your skin in a brand new way, slipping into your subconscious for the better rather than arising any irritation. 
Baby, princess, sweetheart. 
You’ll take whatever you can get from him. 
“Wouldn’t want you slipping and falling,” he murmurs as he pulls back, face now slick with you rather than the steam or water, “Can’t have you ruining that pretty face, getting blood all over my bathroom, now can we?” 
He’s right. God, you fucking hate when he’s right. As much as every part of your body is screaming for him to take you right here against the shower wall, you know it’s not a good idea. And you’ve really, really succumbed to enough bad ideas in these last nineteen hours. 
“Bed,” you manage to gasp out, quick to detangle your fingers from his hair and try to grab onto his shoulders without purchase due to the water still tumbling down, “Bed, now.” 
He gets the message. Rises to his feet and lets your leg fall back down, shaking as he turns to cut the shower abruptly. Without asking, he’s the one to exit into the fierce cold of the apartment first, grabbing at the flesh of your hips and guiding you out along with him. He doesn’t even bother with towels – once he has you out of that potential death trap of a tub, his lips are on yours, nipping and passionate as you breathe him in. He’s the one that maneuvers the two of you out of the bathroom, you don’t even notice when he reaches behind himself to open the door, impressively never tripping as he walks backwards and keeps your lips on his. 
It occurs to you that this is how you two work best. No overshadow of being honest with each other, no clouds of feelings getting in the way. And yet, somehow, it’s the most vulnerable you’ve managed to feel with him yet. 
You don’t want it to only be this easy when both your clothes are off. You want it to be this easy in the early mornings that you wake him up for work, you want it this easy over late night take-out and horror movie marathons. You want more cigarettes at sunset with him, soft confessionals over a rising sun. 
You can’t keep pretending that nothing has changed. You simply can’t. The fierce promise of his protection, the way his eyes stay trained on you even in the busiest of rooms. Nothing could ever erase the blooms left from him hooking his pinky with yours at the parking garage. 
All of the night is flashing through your mind, and even in the trance he has you under, you’re seeing with perfect clarity. 
It’s why just as the backs of your knees connect with his mattress, before he can throw you down and continue what was started in the shower, you’re pushing your palms against his wet chest and forcing him to look into your eyes. 
“If we do this,” you shakily begin, watching his chest rise and fall in sync with yours. Once you say these words, you can’t take them back. You’re vividly aware of it before you continue to force your voice to come out the most steadily it has the entire night, “It changes everything.” 
He blinks, eyes owlish. Once, twice. More of that emotion you finally can single out but never identify swirls like storm clouds in his vision. You wait for him to run, for him to take it all back. You wait for it all to be over – for him to deliver the final blow and leave you to collect the rubble and blood money so you can pretend this night never happened. 
“Okay.” 
Those aren’t the words of a fatal blow. You think they might send you reeling even worse, though. 
“Okay?” you clarify. If your tongue wasn’t so heavy, you’d say more. Remind him of what exactly it means to change everything. 
It seems he already knows as he parrots back, “Okay.” 
Lips meet again, and this time, they’re charged with everything. With a promise of change and a promise that maybe there isn’t a ridiculous time limit here. There is no doomsday clock between the two of you. When the clock strikes 3 PM, neither of you will vanish into thin air. 
You let him throw you back onto the bed. Your bare back meets the surprisingly soft sheets, and they erupt in the scent of Eddie. Cigarettes, a hint of weed, whatever cologne he seems to douse himself in. You can even pinpoint his shampoo amongst the fragrance now. 
It’s no longer the smell of boy that you once ran from. His hand is behind your back, but not trapped. It’s there willingly and it is caressing every inch of you that he can find, tracing out any dimples in your back he can discover as he lets your legs curl up onto his hips, kisses dappling your neck, jaw, and lips alike. 
Your vines stretch high and proud, and drink in his waves with every passing of his breath on your skin that raises goosebumps. 
You want to live here forever. In the feel of him pausing right before his cock presses into you, in the way his face scrunches up and his mouth falls agape, the haze now spreading from your mind and across both of you. Nameless chants and pleads for what was already both in the palm of your hands before you even knew what to do with it. The roll of his hips and the way his wet skin sticks to your own. Your heels digging into him, bringing him in closer, closer, closer.
Every time, it has felt this way. Something beneath the surface that has you surrendering over yourself. He has hurt you, time and time again, and you’ve let your knives be just as sharp – but the wounds scab over now when it’s just the two of you like this. 
You’re best like this for a reason. Because for once, neither of you are overthinking it. You are vulnerable and you are bare, not just physically but emotionally. Honesty isn’t a request; it is a given. You don’t just have him, you know him. Across oceans and across gardens, across midnight skies and across soft morning light. 
You have him. You know him. 
It’s enough. 
Smokey bars. His protection. Slamming doors and the clicking of locks released. The night air surrounding you and the warmth of his back as you cling to him on a motorcycle that seems to be going faster than light in your memories. That parking garage, and that hook of his pinky – a way to get closer, but also a whisper of a promise. 
He’s bled for you. He’s bled from you. 
This changes everything. 
When his hips movements become sloppy, when the knot in your stomach tightens one last time, when your nails dig into his back and leave their mark, you know it to be true. 
Everything, everything, changes. 
Eddie never really hated you, never really could, and you realize now that the feeling is mutual. 
You hadn’t considered exactly what the aftermath would be when Eddie first dragged you out of the shower, but you surely never could have imagined the scene now playing out. 
Him, on his back, content and humming a song you’re too tired to ask him about. His fingers are trailing mindlessly up and down your spine as you splay out across his chest. You both probably need another shower, but neither of you are willing to leave his bed for it. 
It’s not you who remembers the photo. No, you’re tired, one foot already in the door of sleep as you curl yourself tighter into his side. 
He doesn’t use your phone this time. You didn’t even realize his outdated flip phone had a camera on it. You’re not even sure if you dreamt the soft click that sounds like a camera as you nuzzle deeper into his chest.
“Everything,” he whispers, just as the edges of your consciousness begin to blacken, “Yeah, this changes everything.”
Your last thought is a curious one; will he send the photo he just took? 
Would he dare to admit to everyone how everything has changed?
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777gojosgf · 5 months
Text
MY LOVE IS MINE ALL MINE…
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777GOJOSGF IS TYPING…
777gojosgf: gf!reader x hurt/tired!satorugojo
IN WHERE ::
satoru gojo comes home after a long day at work absolutely tired and bruised, seeking comfort in your arms.
WORD COUNT: 0.8K
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THE DOOR CLICKED SHUT and you could hear him taking off his shoes. it was another late night when you tried to stay awake to welcome your boyfriend home, but you were yet again unable to keep your eyes open.
he found you curled up on the couch with a blanket over you, but you had woken up by the sound of the door closing and you immediately rushed to his side. “hi, my love—“ you stopped in the middle of your sentence when you saw the unmistakable hurt expression on his face.
something was wrong.
your hands cautiously reached for his face, cupping it. he subconsciously leaned into your right hand, his eyes failing to meet yours and you were immediately able to figure out why. he didn’t want you to see him like this. as if he was weak, as if he had failed.
you said, "hey," in a gentle tone that made him feel calm and at ease. the terrible headache had begun as soon as he made his way to your shared apartment. he was unable to stop thinking about his late best friend's final moments as they continued to play back in his mind. this caused his thoughts to stray and consider the risk he was putting you in simply because you were his girlfriend. he feared he might end up being a burden for you.
“you’re alright now. are you willing to talk about it?” you had secretly hoped that he would agree to talk since you were so curious about what was going through his mind, though it wasn't a hard guess.
however, he mumbled a quiet no, and with that, you nodded courteously and took his hand in yours. guiding him to the bathroom where you pointed at the counter for him to sit. without a second thought, he obeyed your command and took a seat. the much taller and much more powerful man had suddenly seemed so fragile. so, tired.
you took out the first aid kit from one of the cabinets and set it down beside him. after opening the kit, you took out some patches and rubbing alcohol. his head was cocked to the side to reveal the cut as your hand gently made contact with his jaw. considering that he possessed the infinity technique, it was peculiar for him to return home hurt. and if not, he had the option of visiting shoko to receive healing without the need for any ordinary medical attention.
you had no idea that gojo's only desire was to be cared for and to feel your touch.
before applying the rubbing alcohol-soaked patch to his face, you gave him a heads-up saying "this might sting a little." gojo did not make any movement. rather, his hand reached for your hand that was set on his jaw.
once you finished stitching him up, you gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. he pouted at that and pointed to his lips, earning him a soft laugh from you. you took a step forward and delicately kissed him, your arms around his neck. you leaned backwards, your eyes finding his.
"how about you take a shower and we'll call it a night?" you propositioned, your head tilting to the side and a soft smile was displayed on your face.
"are you saying that i smell?"
your eyes widened at that and you jokingly slapped his arm. "no, you idiot. i'm saying that a shower will help you relax and then we'll go to sleep. i know you're not ready to tell me what happened, so we can just wait until tomorrow. you need some rest."
and in this exact moment, gojo realized that he didn't know what he did to deserve you.
he didn't have to pretend around you. he didn't have to put on the act of making silly jokes and pretending to be fine just because he was the strongest.
no. with you, he was 'toru.
your 'toru.
after his shower, you both found your way to your shared bed. he held you so close to him, but you didn't complain. you couldn't. it was the only way gojo was sure that nothing would happen to you once he closed his eyes, and even so, he still tried to look out for you with his senses.
"hey, y/n." satoru said, loud enough for you to hear but also to soothe you to sleep. "yes?"
"would you still love me if i was a frog and there was no way i could turn into a human?"
usually, you would've rolled your eyes at his silly nighttime questions and told him to go to sleep. but this time, you knew that he needed you to answer. because this wasn't just a silly question. no, he was indirectly asking you if you aren't tired of him.
"i would love you. and in every other universe, i would find my way to you and kiss you once more."
"i love you."
"i love you too. now, rest."
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petit-etoile · 5 months
Note
Congrats on the 200 Followers man! Here's my drabble for ya, go nuts on what you wanna write from this; “Kiss me and/or shut up.”
your  heart understood  mine
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pairing: astarion/tav wordcount:  919 content warnings: ne.il new.bon said something about little astarions once & now i have Thoughts other tags: canon compliant, introspection, character study, idiots in love, established relationship, gender neutral tav, human!tav archiveofourown: here.
tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils, be added to the taglist here
summary: 'When am I happiest?' / 'When I'm looking at you.'
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‘So,’ Astarion says casually, staring at his nails. ‘What do you think the answers truly are?’
‘The answers to what?’ you ask.
‘Don’t play coy,’ he says. ‘The little…love test. I was rather pleased you didn’t expose me in front of a stranger, but now I’m curious.’
You remember Zethino now. You take a moment to glance at him, though your hands are still busy sewing away at a tear in your armor. Astarion is watching you while wearing a guarded half-smile, neither interested in his nails nor in your messy stitches. Your cheeks heat up and you look back down at your uneven handiwork. Your throat tightens a little.
When you had asked him if he had wanted to participate with you, you thought Astarion would reject it. It seemed silly, so out of element for the both of you that the thought of him genuinely agreeing never crossed your mind. Yet now he questions you about it, questions you about your answers, and you feel more nervous now than you had when Zethino called you stira. Astarion takes your armor from you and begins patching it himself, fed up with your clumsy stitches.
‘The heart is fraught, so let us begin with the joyous,’ Astarion recites sarcastically. ‘When is he happiest, my love?’
‘I don’t think you’ve ever been happy,’ you say quietly.
He hums. ‘Well, that’s mostly the correct answer,’ he says. ‘But you’re missing something. I know you can guess it if you really put your mind to it.’
‘You’re happiest with me,’ you say bravely.
You look him deep in his eyes, holding your breath. He laughs and nods, chuckling to himself while he tries to salvage a piece of leather. You think he might be blushing, but it’s hard to tell with how pale he is.
‘Many things delight the heart,’ Astarion continues, mimicking her monotonous timbre. ‘Only one makes it sing! Tell me, my sweet, what does he desire more than anything.’
Revenge. You had told the dryad he wanted revenge, but didn’t go into detail, not in front of someone unfamiliar. You watch as he untangles the thread, his hair soft and elegant, his hands assured and practiced. There lives a colony of butterflies in your chest. Your heart is beating so loud you’re certain he can hear it.
‘A life with me,’ you say.
‘You,’ he agrees.
‘A gaggle of little Astarions trailing around,’ you add.
Astarion looks up sharply, his mouth hanging open slightly. You press your lips together immediately and try to think of an apology but there’s something beneath his careful façade. You were right. You realize it now. You press a hand to your chest as if to stop your heart from pounding. Astarion wants a family, and he wants you, and even beneath that desire for revenge and for strength, once he succeeds then all he wants is you. He looks back down at your clothes in his lap and laughs shyly. You think you might faint.
‘The last, um, question,’ you stutter. You realize your palms are sweaty and blush.
‘Fear sits in the soul of all,’ Astarion says finally, voice soft. ‘To tame it, we must name it. What is his deepest fear?’
This time, you feel as though the answer isn’t so easy. Beneath the fear of Cazador and the fear of the mindflayers, there is something else brewing. You’re afraid to even mention it, but he’s curious and genuine. You slide closer to him and pull part of your armor into your lap so that you share the burden. He presses his nose to your temple and you distract yourself by touching the part of your armor he’s managed to save from your haphazard repairing.
‘You’re afraid of never breaking the cycle,’ you say carefully. You bite your bottom lip. ‘You’re worried that after all this rage, there’s no relief.’
‘Shut up,’ Astarion says.
There is little to no heat in it. You shake your head.
‘You’re afraid the you before Cazador is no longer there,’ you say. ‘And you’re afraid that because I am human, that there’s a ghost of you that comes after me.’
‘Shut up,’ Astarion insists.
‘Kiss me,’ you whisper. You turn to meet his lips.
Astarion presses a sweet kiss to your lips. You cherish it no matter how fleeting the kiss is. The silence, the quiet sorrow. It’s almost worth it for how he gently presses kisses against your temple and into your hair. He will never confess that what you said is true, and you’re almost thankful.
‘My turn,’ you say, clearing your throat. ‘When am I happiest?’
‘When I’m looking at you,’ Astarion says without hesitation.
‘O  — Oh.’
‘You desire a lifetime with me,’ he says with a practiced blasé shrug. ‘And little Astarions of course.’
You flush. ‘Shut up.’
‘And,’ he adds, ‘you’re deathly afraid of spiders.’
He laughs and kisses you again, and you wish you could bottle up the sound in a music box to play it back when you’re feeling lonely. You know what Zethino meant now when she said your bond beat with pleasure. You blossom beneath his careful musings.
‘See? We’re close as can be,’ Astarion murmurs. He rests his chin on your shoulder and brushes his thumb against your thigh. ‘But darling, if we’re going to have a lifetime together, we really must work on your stitching.’
‘Only if you’ll teach me,’ you say.
‘Oh, I’ll be the best teacher you’ve ever had,’ Astarion agrees.
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fluffymaxsworld · 5 months
Text
i am so in love with simon riley, so here’s (another) fic<3
“neighbors”
[neighbors, wife material reader, fluff<33]
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“morning”
“hello”
the brief interactions you and your next door neighbor, simon, had were so miserable. occasional smiles and pleasantries, but just when your eyes met his. quick hellos and polite waves, something the both of you didn’t care about.
he worked in the military, a cold, stern man, he never took part at the meetings between the neighborhood. he was good looking, no one ever said the opposite, but his mysterious demeanor was something girls didn’t wish of. sometimes he also disappeared for weeks and people swore they had see him with a skull mask.
on the other hand, you were a sweet girl, outgoing and caring, even for your grumpy neighbor.
that’s why you two met.
it was a cold friday, the apartments were silent like always. you decided to prepare cookies to “match the mood” so you left the house to buy the ingredients. on your way back you noticed simon. he was struggling with searching his keys in front of his door.
“you dropped them” you smiled sweetly, breaking the silence and pointing at the couple of keys on the floor.
in response he nodded, picking them up.
well, he wasn’t your best friend, but at least he could’ve said a short “thanks”.
“you’re back from another mission?” you asked him.
“yeah” he quickly replied, almost impatient of locking himself inside his house.
“you’re a great man. bye.” you waved and entered your apartment.
he nodded again and closed his door.
weirdo.
well, whatever, time for cookies!
in a couple of hours you baked at least a dozen of chocolate chips cookies. and what a kind soul like yours would do with half of them?
you packed a basket full of cookies and opened the door. you knocked twice at simon’s and waited for a reply.
“who’s there?” the deep voice asked.
“neighbor!” you replied lively.
he opened his door and looked at you. his big, muscular figure was… something else.
“i baked cookies, want some?” you said, handing him the chest.
“you sure?” he looked quite surprised, “i mean, thanks”
“i just thought you needed them, i mean, you’re in the military!” you said it almost jokingly, but you believe that he deserved to be cared about.
“thank you, really. do you want to grab a coffee?”
he invited you over. simon riley, feared man, skull-masked, military guy, invited you over to drink coffee and eat cookies.
“yeah, sure!” you nodded, how could you decline?
you stepped in, looking around.
his apartment was similar to yours in space terms, but completely the opposite when it comes to the arrangements.
the walls were a soft grey, a white couch filled the living room and a wooden table with a couple of chairs was almost hidden between the entry and a huge library full of books, military books, you guessed.
then you saw it, the famous skull mask everyone talked about. you thought it was a myth, something people invented because they were bored, but here it was, white plastic-like skull and black tissue.
“curious?” he interrupted your thought as he took the mask, “if you wonder if the rumors are true, yeah, it’s mine. i wear it during missions”
“oh, cool” you said, looking at it.
“are you scared of me?” he asked you, a unreadable tone in his dark voice.
“scared? why?” a half giggle escaped your mouth.
“the mask. the military thing. isn’t it scary?”
“i don’t think so. you’re interesting and being in the military should be a boast!” you sat down on the table, handing him one of the cookies.
he took one and bit into it, “tastes good.” he smirked slightly, “and thank you, by the way. i guess im not really liked here…”
“you shouldn’t care about what they think. they’re just idiots” you reassured him.
“well, i don’t have time to care. missions and work are my only priority right now” he sighed, biting on the cookie.
it almost sent you shivers. he doesn’t have nobody to wait him after his missions, his appearance scares away all the neighborhood. he needs a wife.
“do you have a partner?” you asked him, trying to sound nonchalant.
“why? wanna ask me out?” he joked, but you flushed a little, “no, i don’t. i don’t think i need a partner”
you avoided his fulminating gaze and kept talking, “man, you need a girl, believe me.”
“i don’t have time for stupid sloppy things like that. that’s for idiots”
“mmh, i don’t think so.” you said, giggling softly.
he let out a subtle laugh, looking at you, “i haven’t found the right woman yet, then”
“you’ll find someone, trust me”
and that’s how you and simon became close friends. every now and then, when he came back from missions, you were waiting for him with a basket full of cookies, muffins or a whole cake and a bright smile on your face.
and how bad, because he was starting to fall in love. in love with your eyes, hair, smile, oh, your smile. you drove him crazy. he felt cared about. when he was out for a mission he didn’t think only about coming back home alive, but coming back home alive for you. you made him dream in something when he was at his low.
it’s a snowy night, you baked a couple of muffins for simon. it’s been a month since he left for the mission and you really missed him. usually you knock at his door around 7pm, a quietly chosen appointment each time he would’ve come back home.
but not today, no, because you heard a knock.
“simon!” you smiled and opened the door.
“it’s been-” you couldn’t finish the sentence as he pulled you closer into a hug, a warm tight hug.
as you draw close, your bodies press together, creating a feeling of warmth and closeness. in that moment, your hearts synchronize, and the world around you seems to fade away.
“simon? are you okay?” you chuckled softly.
he buried his face deeper into your neck, your smell intoxicating him.
“i’m not great with words, y’know…” he started, “i… well, y’know, i’ve been away for awhile. i’ve risked my life more than once, and all i could think about was you. and i’m scared i could die without admitting what you made me feel”
“simon…” you looked at him, noticing his brown eyes full of worry and confusion.
“i’ve fallen for you, completely, deeply, insanely. you drive me crazy, you’re all i can think about. and i know i’m not the best man you’ll-”
you pulled him closer into a kiss, your lips finding his. you closed your eyes, he closed his, lost in the moment. you could feel your heart race faster, your body tingle in excitement. you shyly brought your hand to his cheeks, exploring his face, tracing the scars that his face was full of.
“i’ve been waiting for you” you whispered between the kisses.
“i love you” he finally said, his voice deeper than the usual and their eyes fixated on yours.
“i love you too, simon riley”
IM SO SORRY ITS SO MESSED UP BUT I NEED A DAMN BREAAAAK!!!
love y’all anyways :))
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plump-lips-imagine · 11 months
Note
Hello (◍•ᴗ•◍) u saw that your request were open. Can you write some romantic headcanons of bowser with his s/o, it can be fluffy or spicy whichever you're comfortable with thank you in advance
Alright, Coming up!
Bowser Romantic Headcanons.
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Meeting:
You know how dragons like to make hoards of anything that’s shiny, and glimmering, and just want it all to themselves?
That’s the closest thing that Bowser felt after he met you.
Granted, it was pure accident that you met because he accidentally kidnapped you instead. Well, HIS minions made the mistake of kidnapping you.
You were Peach’s Royal Attendant. You were taking care of some of Peach’s documents while she was in a meeting when it happened.
“You ain’t Peach!!” Bowser Growled at you with his claw dangerously close to your face. You gulped nervously at the predicament you were forced into. “N-No Sir, I’m not. I’m just her attendant. Please don’t hurt me”.
 He huffs in frustration. He’ll be sure to punish the idiotic minions that make this mistake. But what to do with you? “...You’re not totally useless. I can make this work.” “Huh?”
 He was going to use you as a hostage to make Peach agree to marry him. She cares way too much for her people to leave you in danger. It’s the perfect plan!
So that’s how you were trapped in a cage, waiting currently for someone to rescue you as Bowser planned a letter to threaten the Peach with for your Safety.
Welp. With nothing better else to do, you might as well try to make conversation if you’re going to be here for a while.
“So….Got any hobbies?”
Bowser raises an eyebrow at you. “What?”
Safe to say, Bowser was very annoyed at your attempts to make small talk. But he entertained the idea since he was running blank on what to write to the Princess.
Maybe if he decided to talk to you a bit, You’ll eventually stop talking altogether.
And maybe fix this writer’s block.
Neither happens. 
You were a chatterbox, and he seemed to lose interest in the letter altogether.
You were genuinely curious about him since you’d only heard about him From Peach.
He was Scary, but you couldn’t help but look at him in interest.
And he….didn’t mind. Actually, the way you looked at him in curiosity when he talked made him a little Bashful. Not many ask a lot about him
No one appreciates his awesomeness in all its glory, so you asking about him kinda…made him want to talk to you too.
Peach is usually silent when he tries to talk to her, so it's nice to talk to someone for a change.
Both of you didn’t realize how late it was until Kamek came to remind him that Dinner was ready.
It was shocking to him he talked to you so much without getting bored and shocked him even more that he didn’t want the conversation to end.
That lasted for about 3 days before Mario and Luigi came to the rescue.
And Of Course, he got his ass handed to him.
Mario grabs your hand as he walks away from the barely conscious Bowser. “Come on-a (Y/N). The Princess was-a so worried about you.” You followed the bros out the front door of his castle, but you turn quickly to look at Bowser. “Bye, Bowser! See you Later!” Bowser lays there as the three of you left, contemplating was you just said. ‘’Later’?...later…..Later.” 
There was definitely going to be a Later.
Pre-Relationship:
  He starts ‘kidnapping’ more frequently. To the Point where Both his minions and Peach notice it.
“Sire, Why are we taking this Human instead of the Princess? What could the servant provide that we can’t just get from the Princess immediately?” Bowser Glares at the Koopa, and stomps towards them, making the Koopa jump in fear. “Are you questioning me!? I know what I’m doing! We need that servant because she’s more likely to tell us things without a fight! I’m going to use it against this Kingdom when the time is Right!” Translation: I miss this human a lot but couldn’t think of a reasonable way of seeing them again so I kidnap them so they’ll have no choice but to spend time with me, but I won’t admit that to anybody.
Princess Peach runs up to you to inspect your face as Mario and Luigi save you again. “Thank Goodness you're alright! Did that Monster hurt you? I’m so sorry you got dragged into this.” “Princess, I'm Fine, Really. Don’t worry about it. Mario and Luigi saved me so all is good with the world.” Translation: Bowser has no idea how to ask to hang out so I gotta keep up this facade until either I ask him personally to hang out. I had a fun time with him but I don’t want you to freak out at this.
He has obvious favoritism for you. 
It’s laughable to even call you a prisoner because you don’t even sit in the cage when he kidnaps you.
He orders his minions to prepare a room for you.
He even made sure they got delicious food sent to your room when supper was ready.
You don’t attempt to run since you enjoy his company and he enjoys yours.
Kamek and the rest of his minions as You and Bowser talk about certain topics walking down the Royal Hallway. Bowser notices this and glares at them. “Is there something you need to say?” He rhetorically asks in a dark tone.” They stop looking and stand guard quickly. Bowser's face softens, looking down back at you. “As you were saying?”
He is also a little touchy with you. He usually has his hand on your back when you talk. Also has you sat on his forearm when he wants you to be closer.
He’s a little touch-starved. He forgets that he has to act like he’s holding you prisoner.
 Mario and Luigi came to ‘rescue’ you for the 8th time. It was different today. They defeated his defenses but when they came to the throne room, he wasn’t ready for them to come. He was asleep. He was on his some curled up in a sleeping position and there you were, next to his face as he held you down with his arm, pulling you close to him.
The Mario Bros stare at yall in shock. You shush them when you spot them and waved them over quietly. They come and you carefully wiggle out of Bowser’s Grasp. “Let’s go.” You whisper quietly. They nod and head out the front. You take a piece of paper and leave a note. I’ll be coming over next week, You don’t have to pick me up anymore. - (Y/N).
You tuck the note under his hand, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, leaving before he woke up. He smiles in his sleep.
                   Post-Relationship
      Congratulations! You have the Koopa King’s Heart in your Hands now.
Achievement unlocked: Bowser will now kill for you.
But yeah, if you thought he was sweet before. Get ready for that time 3.
He just wants to make you happy and bathe you in riches.
Are you hungry? He gets the minions to make a 5-star gourmet dish just to your liking.
Thirsty?  He will bring you a gold chalice embedded with shining jewels.
Is it too hot? Minions! Fan my lover and get them the coldest water we got!
Enemy needs to be wiped out? Say the word and he will bring them to your knees begging for mercy.
Calls you Starlight and Firefly because of how you brighten the room.  Along with nicknames like Honey, and Sweetheart.
Also, be prepared for him to be right under you or more like you very close to him
He will pick you up in his hands just because. No reason. He just wants to hold you and keep you close.
He is very gentle when he has you in his hand. It makes you feel safe when he wraps his fingers around you lovingly. Claws never tearing your clothes or breaking the skin. You are treated as fragile as precious glass art.
He still has this urge to just pinch your cheeks and squeeze you a bit. You’re just too cute for your own. (Even when you’re doing absolutely nothing.)
Have you sitting on his lap when he’s sitting on his throne until yours is done being built.
Please kiss is on his snoot. He will melt at the affection with hearts in his eyes.
Please kiss him more. He craves it. He will wag his tail when you do.
You know how possessive and protective Dragons get with their treasure. Be prepared for that.
He will be so stubborn when you have to go to the Peach’s castle and try to get you to stay longer.
Do you have to go so soon? It’s early. Why don’t you stay another hour…or 2. Or you can’t wait till tomorrow? Or next week? Next Month? Next Year?    
He has to fight this instinct to just grab you and keep him under him so that he can keep you all to himself.
…He only controls it 3 times out of 10.     
Literally has you cuddled up under him in your shared bedroom because he doesn’t even want to share you with the Princess.  You were a little annoyed.
He gives you his best puppy dog eyes to make you less angry. You can’t stay mad at that face.
Fine, But You’re going in the next hour.
He lets out a content purr as you settled into him.
He literally loves you so much. He hopes you stay forever.
He is so ready to ask for your hand in marriage.
He hopes you say yes.
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happilyhertale · 5 months
Text
The Rogue Prince - Daemon Targaryen x wife!reader
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Summary: After a stressful day that leaves Daemon in a bit of an angry mood, you decide to give him some relief. But in a different way than you usually do.
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x poc!wife!reader
Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Minors do not continue reading!
Author’s note: Hey you (: A one-shot Daemon story requested by Anon 🖤 It took me some time but I hope you like it! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:
Word count: 3.5 k
Other stories of mine
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
You didn't have to look up, just the way the door slammed open was enough of a sign for you to know - Daemon was pissed. He entered without knocking, his armour clattering against itself.
In a mixture of snorts and grumbles, your husband strode into your chambers. As you lifted your gaze, your warm hazel eyes met the captivating intensity of his purple eyes, sending a shiver down your spine. Your curious gaze wandered further, discovering the mess of dirt and the almost macabre pattern of dried blood clinging to him. Uncertainly, you put aside the book you were engrossed in and approached Daemon, who was already in the process of freeing himself from the constricting confines of his armour. But before you could approach him, a piece of his armour flew into the far corner of the room.
"It will not improve your mood if you damage your armour," you say gently and help him to open his armour.
He just looks at you and his gaze makes you shiver a little again.
"What do I care about this fucking armour?" he hisses.
You look at him and your hands continue to work on the buckles and remove the chest piece.
"You want to tell me what happened?" you ask quietly.
There is a brief silence in your chambers and you use the time to admire his muscular chest, visible under his shirt. His body does not fail to bring you to ecstasy.
You look into his eyes again as he begins to speak.
"None of these idiots in this council understand the importance of cleansing our city of these filthy criminals! Not one!" he hisses.
You nod at him and try to concentrate on his words and not let his body distract you.
Your hands continue to work on the buckles of his armour.
"The city is full of disgusting creatures. They steal, they kill, they rape and none of those cunts at that council table give a shit!" he continues to hiss.
"But you do," you say softly and his eyes meet yours.
"I will teach these people to fear the golden cloaks again," he says in his deep voice.
You smile slightly and take off the last piece of his armour. Your fingers begin to take off his shirt.
"First we have to clean you up," you say gently.
Daemon's soft chuckle, markedly different from his previous behaviour, resounds through the air as he spreads his arms and asks you to release him from his shirt. His shimmering silver lengths fall over his shoulders, framing the network of scars etched into the skin of his neck and nape. These battle-scarred marks, created by victories and fire, are revealed in all their glory.
Your fingertips run tenderly over these well-deserved scars, your soft olive hue a striking contrast to his pale skin. You relish these imprints of his commanding prowess on the battlefield, each scar telling its own story, a testament to his unwavering leadership qualities. Daemon watches the movements of your fingers and notices how your gaze is fixed on his chest, unable to avert your gaze.
"Are you sure you just want to bathe me?" he murmurs, and your gaze jumps to his eyes.
You smile slightly, "Yes, I do," you say seriously and take his hand, leading him into the adjoining bathroom. Daemon grunts in disappointment, but lets himself be led along. The bath is quickly prepared and warm steam rises from the tub.
Daemon stands next to the tub of hot water and begins to open his trousers. As they slide down, you can see his already hardening arousal, but you avert your gaze and go to a small dresser in the corner of the bathroom.
Daemon watches you, a grin on his lips.
"Oh come on... You can't ignore my needs like that..." he says, but you interrupt him.
"Into the warm water with you," is all you say as you look through small bottles on the dresser to find the right one. You have these little vials from your home in Dorne, filled with different elixirs, and this time you want to put him in the right, stimulating mood.
Daemon grumbles something unintelligible, but obeys and gets into the tub. His gaze is fixed firmly on your back.
"Will you at least keep me company?" he asks, and you can hear in his voice that he is getting impatient.
You turn to him and smile, "No... at least not in the water," you say softly.
With two bottles in your hand, you stride to the bathtub. In the soft, flickering light created by candles, Daemon's gaze fixes on you and you can see an unspoken desire in the depths of his eyes to just grab you. But instead of giving in to temptation, his hands grip the edge of the tub. He leans back slightly and lets you pleasure him, a sign of trust he has only in you.
You kneel behind him, set the vials aside and carefully remove the hair ribbon from its silken lengths. As the ribbon gives up its hold, his hair falls gracefully over his shoulders. The once shining silver strands, now clouded with dirt and sweat, literally crave your touch. You gently begin to work water into the lengths, and the soothing rhythm elicits a contented murmur from Daemon as his eyes are gently closed.
Your hand wanders to a vial, its lid giving way with a soft, melodic pop at your careful touch. At this slight disturbance, Daemon's eyes flicker open to take in the unexpected intrusion.
"What's that?" he murmurs. You smile slightly, "Lavender oil... I like it when your hair smells fresh," you say soflty.
Daemon reflects your soft smile, "All right... If my Dornish princess wants me to smell like a silly bush from the garden, I don't think I could refuse," he mutters. With a smile, you apply a few drops of oil to his shiny silver locks and enjoy the feel of his long strands gliding through your fingers as the accumulated dirt runs effortlessly down.
After pampering him with your grooming, you rise and hand Daemon a towel. With a synchronised movement, he accepts the towel, and as he dries himself, you return to the bedroom with the other vial of elixir. Daemon follows you silently, his shapely form wrapped in the loosely hanging towel.
"Now you're going to take care of my needs?" he says to you, a cheeky smile around his lips. And at that moment you notice the bulge under the towel. You smile, "Lie down on the bed," you say.
Daemon's smile widens, like that of a child who finds an unexpected, delicious treat. He complies with your request and lies down in your marital sanctuary - the very bed where he makes you squirm and beg every night. But this night it will be different.
With an expectant gaze, Daemon watches your every move. How you slowly take off your dress and walk towards the bed. You crawl onto the bed and his hands reach out longingly to pull you close.
But you push them away, "Hands by your side," you say and move to sit astride him. Daemon looks irritated, but he obeys. You take the bottle and open it while Daemon watches you closely.
"More lavender oil?" he asks, "You know I'll have trouble commanding my men if my whole body smells like a flower bouquet" he says.
With a soft chuckle, you murmur, "Not a hint of lavender..." as the delicate scents of osmanthus and patchouli dance around you, washing you with their stimulating embrace as you place a few drops of the oil on your warm palm. Daemon's eyes remain fixed, transfixed by your hands as you set about the task of massaging the oil into his powerful chest.
"And I don't think you'll have any problems commanding your men.... No matter how you smell..." you say softly.
Daemon can only growl slightly as he slowly feels the effect of the scents and his arousal presses harder against you. You can feel a slight movement of his hips as he tries to grind against you. You stare into his eyes as your hands continue to glide over his skin.
"Don't move," you say to him. Daemon grunts, but he obeys - again.
You hear his breathing become more irregular as your hand turns to his belly. Slowly you massage the oil into the muscles of his belly, but your hands are unstoppable. You sit up a little and release him from the towel and his hot length springs free. It twitches wildly as you begin to rub his pubic hair with the oil. It twitches even more wildly as your hands turn to the shaft of his cock, which almost invites you to let yourself sink onto it. Daemon grunts impatiently, wanting to move his hips again, to somehow get close to your pussy.
"Don't," you just whisper, and your hands begin to wander up and down. You hear him gasp, see his hands gripping the sheet beneath you tightly. Your hands slide faster as his member literally pulses. Daemon breathes faster and faster as he chases his climax and you can already see the first drops of his release coming from the tip of his cock. You lean down and lick them away and hear him hiss.
"Woman, you will be my death," he whispers breathlessly. You just look up at him, grinning a little, and bite your lip. Your hand slides up and down faster.
It also increasingly excites you that he could just grab you, push you onto the bed and thrust into you, but he does not. He lies there and lets the feelings and actions wash over him.
When suddenly you feel a strong twitch in his member and Daemon spurts his hot seed onto his belly. He grunts loudly and watches you pump the last drops of cum out of his cock. He breathes heavily and closes his eyes briefly. His head falls back on the pillow.
"I think I need to take another bath..." he mumbles.
But you only smile, "I'm not done with you yet," you whisper. Daemon opens his eyes and looks at you in irritation.
You notice how he slowly softens in your hand, but it is not over for you yet. Slowly you slide further down and push his legs apart. You kneel between his legs and your hand gently moves along his shaft again. Daemon hisses slightly as you lean down.
You take his softening member into your mouth and begin to suck. The remnants of his cum unfold their salty taste on your tongue, but you love the way he tastes.
Daemon gasps, "What are you doing?"
But you just grin slightly and push him all the way down your throat.
"Gods...", Daemon gasps, but you notice that he is getting hard again.
But then, with a pop, you release his cock from his mouth. He is breathing heavily and still looks irritated, his cock hard again and standing in all its glory.
Daemon's heavy breath echoes from the walls of your chambers. You move and lie down beside him. You bite your lip gently and lean forward, kissing his neck softly. Your tongue is like pure fire that hits his skin and could cause new scars. A hot, arousing fire. His hips rise again with arousal and his hand reaches for the back of your head to move your head down. But you stop caressing his neck and look at him. You shake your head resolutely and Daemon pulls his hand back grumbling.
His voice fails in his throat and nothing more leaves his mouth as he slowly loses control. A growl sounds from him and his back arches slightly as your hand begins to caress his chest.
A moan escapes him as your nails leave light marks on his skin.
"Stop it, love," he murmurs. "You're driving me crazy" But you see his cock twitch wildly and you know he doesn't want you to stop. His hands reach into the sheet again and you know, that it's taking all his will not to grab you. Gently your lips graze over his neck as your fingers gently move down, teasing him. You feel the remnants of his previous climax and you see him bite his lip as you slide through it. His eyes are closed and you can see him enjoying this. Your fingers gently caress his abdomen, following the light hair to your destination.
A moan escapes him again. His hand suddenly reaches for your arm and you gasp softly, feeling his fingertips dig into your arm, showing you how much you're already teasing him. But you are not finished yet.
Daemon tries to concentrate on staying calm for your sake.
Once again, you can't stop your fingers from stroking his pubic hair as your smile widens. You watch his expression as you caress him.
A sharp intake of breath comes from his throat. He feels nothing but your touch. His fingertips dig further into your arm, but he finds it hard to stay still. You feel his muscles twitch and he just wants to pull you closer to him and take control of the situation so he can use your body as he wants.
But he forces himself to stay still. He forces himself to enjoy the passive role for once.
Your fingers gently graze the tip of his hard manhood. You bite your lip as you feel it twitch. As you close your fingers around the tip and the twitch shoots through your fingers.
"Ops...", you say softly, with an air of innocence, but Daemon knows you are not innocent and it's impossible for him not to react to that – a soft hiss escapes him.
His back arches slightly upwards and he grips your arm even tighter. His head turns towards you. His eyes are still closed, but you feel his lips seek yours. But you let him suffer. Let him feel what it is like to be on the receiving end of something like this.
"Is this what I put you through every night?" he suddenly asks softly, still keeping his eyes closed. You hear a slight breathlessness in his voice.
You smile again, "Yes... Every time you tease me..." you whisper.
You feel at your fingertips how his arousal continues to make itself felt, and the drops wet the tip of his cock.
"You like that, don't you?" you whisper.
He responds with a low growl, as if he's too busy enjoying it to reply with words.
His fingers disengage from your arm and sink to the bed, holding them still. It works up to a point. But you see his fingers clench into fists again and again.
You lean forward again and gently kiss his neck. Lightly you let your teeth sink into the skin. Again you hear a slight growl.
But still your fingers do not touch his hard member. Teasingly you only stroke his tip, refusing to embrace it completely. You feel it twitch violently again and again. Almost desperately it wants you to touch it. And again a moan escapes Daemon's throat.
You notice his breath quickening, and your own smile turns into a wicked little grin.
His fingers clutch the sheets on the bed as his muscles tremble slightly. You can feel the tension building inside him.
"Stop it... stop..," he murmurs, his voice strained by the desire to just grab you.
You continue to nibble on his neck. Your fingers, meanwhile, are stroking his pubic hair again, your caress growing rougher.
"Would you like me to touch you?" you whisper. With this question you have sealed his fate.
You see him contort his face almost painfully, trying to resist his urge. It would be so easy for him to give in, to just turn and take you as he wants. You see the inner struggle in him. The Rogue Prince who never begs, never bows to any command. The dragon who needs control over every situation. But still you see his breathing quicken, his muscles tremble slightly, he moistens his lips.
"Yes..." he whispers after a while, almost defeated.
But then his fingers move to your hips, wanting to grab you and force you closer to him. You slap his hand away.
"No, Daemon. Get your hands off me," you whisper warningly in his ear. You underline your momentary power and nibble lightly on his earlobe.
Your fingers now find their way to his balls, your fingernails gently scratching the now taut skin and he hisses again.
It's a struggle for him to take his hands off your hips. He doesn't want to. But he obeys.
You continue the torment, your fingernails almost driving him mad.
"You know you'll pay for this, you little pest," his voice sounds a little hoarse.
But with each word his voice grows softer and is now just a low murmur as his body continues to tremble with desire. You have the power over this moment, and you know it. You smile just slightly, knowing you will pay for this, and a feeling of anticipation spreads through you.
"Please," he murmurs suddenly. His breathing is quick and heavy. Right now he is nothing more than your plaything. The Rogue Prince on the verge of begging.
You bite his neck again, "Please, what, my love?" you whisper as your fingernails continue to tease his balls. He hisses again. His hips jerk a little, desperate for a touch.
His mouth opens and closes as he tries to find words to say what he wants. It's all gasps and moans and deep, animalistic noises now.
"Please... I need more...," he finally murmurs weakly. He can't say much more, he wants you too much. You know it. He knows it. You both know it.
A low grumble escapes his throat as he hisses again. He clenches his teeth as you grab his balls. He tries to take a deep breath to keep his voice low, but he can't stop his voice from shaking. "Touch me...", these are the only words he manages to say.
Your hand continues to grip his balls, squeezing them gently.
You kiss his neck, "My Rogue Prince...", you whisper.
He is silent now, looking at you with half-closed eyes, his breathing heavy.
You continue to kiss and nibble on his neck as your hand holds him tight, enjoying this newfound power over him. "If you keep this up, I swear we won't leave this bed for at least twelve hours. And I will make you suffer,“ he hisses, his last attempt at exuding dominance.
You smile at him, your fingers now slowly stroking along his shaft.
"I wouldn't mind," you whisper.
His hard manhood is dripping with precum. Your hand wanders along his hard manhood. It twitches violently as you rub the pecum over its tip. He gasps and grunts.
"Oh, you like that, don't you?" you whisper as you nibble on his neck again.
"Yes...!" Daemon suddenly groans. You're playing with fire and you know it. Your teasing only drives him closer to his climax without you actually touching him. But you embrace him fully now, and the sudden rough touch makes him grunt loudly. Your hand wanders up and down, your other hand starts massaging his balls again.
"Then come for me, love...", you whisper. You are also breathing harder by now as your hand slides along his hard manhood. He is moaning uncontrollably by now, his manhood twitching. His eyes are closed and his hips are twitching.
His fingers dig deep into the sheet as he makes sounds you didn't think he was capable of. But his moans turn into hisses as your hand works faster.
He pulls your head towards him and kisses you fiercely, almost desperately. He holds nothing back now and you let him.
"My wife. My Dornish princess. My queen. I am yours. Only yours.", Daemon gasps and you feel the twitch move from his balls up into his cock.
And then he comes. Again his seed spurts onto his belly, while your hand does not slacken in its movement. You're still kissing him and he moans and whimpers into your mouth.
Daemon releases the kiss, still breathing heavily, his eyes closed. Softly he whispers your name, smiling.
"You're cruel, you know that? Cruel and beautiful," he whispers.
You giggle softly and watch the movements of his face. After a few deep breaths from him, he suddenly moves. So suddenly that you gasp slightly. Your eyes grow wide as he suddenly hovers over you. You stare into his violet eyes, his cum dripping onto your soft, olive skin, creating a complete contrast. Daemon slides his finger through it as it continues to drip, just as you did on his skin before. A dark grin on his lips.
"I'm going to make you pay even more cruelly for this..." he murmurs and before you can say anything, his lips meet yours and his hand finds its way between your thighs. Your whimpers echo through your chambers as his hand grips your pussy roughly.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Tag list
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A lot has already been said about Good Omens. And I think the most beautiful thing about it is that, as WE, the fans, try to analyse it to make sense of the events that came to pass in the last episode of season 6, we're also learning a bit more of ourselves, through the lens and perspective of the different characters.
It's sort of a comfort movie, a kind of therapy and self-reflection. So here we are empathising and learning to hold space for the characters that we dearly hold close to our hearts. (More like brain rot, if you ask me.) For me, I've gained a better understanding of myself over these past weeks (oohh it's actually months now!)
And I think we'll keep going back to it until we make sense of Crowley's heartbreak (even the depth of him sauntering vaguely downwards) and Aziraphale's choices. As we continue to simply wish for Muriel to get their ineffable parents back together:)
Like can I also say there are so many layers to it? It's astounding, brilliant, and deserving of the word, ineffable. The genius of its writing—metaphors, imagery, symbolisms, easter eggs and most significantly, the integrity of the characters.
Because just when you think you've figured it out, you reread the book, rewatch the series, stumble through a TikTok video or Tumblr post, and you learn something new! Ineffably chaotic. Ineffably human. Ineffably curious!
So here's to the world and to the ineffable idiots' endgame, where they get to live together for all eternity in their garden of Eden, where Crowley no longer puts the fear of Crowley to his plants, books and books upon shelves scattered through the garden, and the Bentley parked underneath the Tree of Knowledge.
At night, they have a better view of the galaxy when the solar system finally gets moved to the centre of the universe.
Let there be light. Let there be a happy ending. 🪽🐍
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satorunigojaloo · 3 months
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Beach day gone wrong or?
Teen!Gojo Satoru x teen!fReader
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In this AU Geto never turn bad and is still a student in the fourth year. Reader is also in the same class as Gojo, Geto and Shoko.
Yaga has given his students the day off after a lot of missions and you all decide on having a beach day.
Genre: fluff, little crack
Warning: none
AN: it started with one fanfic and then another and another. Now I’m addicted and can’t stop writing.
Wordcount: 1.8k
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Painful grunts fill the hallways of the dorms as you stumble your way to your room. Not really caring about how your blood spills on the floor or that you might’ve woken any of your fellow students.
When you’re finally at your door, a sigh of relief escape your lips. Closing the door behind you and thankful for not bleeding as much as feared.
Soaking in the warm water from the shower you find it in you to relax. Desperate need of a week off after that shit show of a mission.
As you finish cleaning up and now wrapped in a towel you make your way to the bed unaware of the person standing in your doorway.
"Yo, I was just about to let you—" his sentence interrupted by a shoe flying his way. Sadly his infinity stopped it.
Doing your best at covering yourself up as you scream at the white haired idiot invading your personal space. "Satoru, what the fuck?!"
The cheeky bastard peaking his head from behind the floating shoe in front of him and stuck out his tongue.
"Chill. I’m just here to let you know Yaga-sensei said tomorrow we’re having a day off and we’re going to the beach." Shoe hit the floor along with your jaw. This bastard has no respect for privacy.
"A beach day?" Your anger slightly faltered of the thought about going to the beach, sunbathing, swimming and relaxing.
"Yes, so don’t forget to bring your cutest bikini!" Satoru already out of the door before the other shoe came at him.
-
As the sun warms your skin and the smell of the salty ocean hits you, your anger gone. Walking alongside Shoko the two of you quickly found Suguru and Satoru in each of their sun-beds.
Suguru wave when he notices you and his usual gentle smile on his face. You really enjoyed his presence as he was calm, kind and caring. Unlike the moron next to him waving like a child with a dorky grin.
"How come there’s no one else here?" Curious since the beach is usually filled up on days like these. Satoru’s grin widen.
"I kinda set up a veil so no one but us can come here." Rolling your eyes at the idiot, but also thankful for it.
The chattering continued as the four of you all seated now. You look around to take in the view, grateful to your teacher for allowing you this day. Something soft touches your lips and your eyes turn to see Satoru holding a mochi toward you.
"Here, taste it!" Slightly sceptic but you open your mouth and he pops it in with his finger. Only for a millisecond did his finger grace your lips and your breath hitches at the sudden touch.
You failed to see how equally affected Satoru was as you turn away from him. Cheeks all red and your insides felt like they were on a rollercoaster. You’re thankful Suguru and Shoko didn’t notice what had just happened.
"Anyone up for a swim?" Satoru asks the group in excitement. Both Suguru and Shoko shrugs their shoulders not really interested. So now his eyes were on you.
Somehow you can’t say no to him, Satoru has this hold on you that can’t be explained. You remember your first time meeting him and how you immediately developed a crush.
That was your first impression, tall, strong, handsome and a strong sorcerer. As often stated, first impressions be false, and boy was that the case here.
Satoru might be all those things, but he’s also a dork, annoying, arrogant and lacking a social antenna. You would’ve thought that would stop you from crushing on him, sadly your feelings somehow stuck.
Which is why you have tried and still trying your best to keep a distance from him, which he apparently try hard to close all the time.
It wasn’t the first time that he had entered your room unannounced or delivered a cheeky little comment that could be interpreted as flirting.
Nope.
Satoru Gojo was like gum under your shoe, always there and always close. And you are struggling hard with his closeness.
You should’ve said no to swimming as well and stayed with the other two, but you just couldn’t say no to him.
Standing up to join him, you zip down your hoodie jacket, revealing your orange bathing suit. Much to Satoru’s dismay.
Instead of swimming by the beach, Satoru convinced you that it would be more fun to go to the rocks and jump from there. You obliged and followed the tall boy to your destination.
Walking over you couldn’t help but notice the pout on his face. "Why the sour face?" Suspecting you knew the reason why and his answer only confirmed.
"That’s not a bikini." Deliberately looking away from you he walk with sulky steps. His already pink cheek increases when you giggle at him.
"First of all, I don’t own one. Second, I still have wounds from our mission yesterday and thought a bathing suit would be better." Slight worry in his eyes at the mention of ‘wounds’, but he’s quick to brush it off.
"Third and most importantly, to annoy you." Satoru only snort at that and shoves you lightly with his body.
Now you were close to the rocks and the adrenaline already kicking in.
"I heard there’s a cave somewhere around, but only accessible from underwater." Already standing on the rocks ahead Satoru gesturing you to follow. A little hesitant you follow, you weren’t a great swimmer and the waves louder the closer you got.
"Sounds like a foolproof plan for us to either get stuck or die—" a warm hand grab yours and drag you along, ignoring your logics.
You also ignore your own logics and allow yourself to be taken by the strong hold, unsure if your fluttering heart was from the adrenaline or his touch.
"Where’s your sense for an adventure? Come on!!" And with that the two of you jump into the water holding hands.
-
"They look like children." The brunette chuckle as she brings the cigarette to her lips.
Suguru next to her also chuckles in agreement, he knew his friend had a plan set in motion. Which is why he didn’t join him for a swim.
For a long time Satoru had crushed on you, but frustrated at how you always kept a distance from him. After yesterday’s mission the white haired boy had taken his friend to the side, sharing his plan.
"Suguru, my good friend. You want me to be happy right?" Leaning his bodyweight on his equally tall friend’s shoulder. Suguru shrugged his shoulders and smirked at his friends reaction.
"Don’t shrug your shoulders, I know you do. So now listen. I have a plan."
"So that idiot is the reason for our beach day? And he really think he’ll be able to win her over with this plan of his?" Shoko shoots Suguru a questioning look and the dark haired boy could only sigh.
"I’ve long given up trying to understand how Satoru’s brain work."
"Luckily for him the feelings are mutual. So let’s hope those two morons don’t fuck this up."
The two of them laying down on each sun-bed observing whatever was unfolding in front of them.
-
"Ahhh something touching my foot!!" You subconsciously jump into his arms to escape whatever sea monster lurking in the waters.
Satoru laughs and his whole chest roars against your cheek. Realising your position you squirm out of his hold, plopping back into the water. "Didn’t take you for a scaredy cat."
"I’m not! Now where is this stupid cave of yours?" Swimming away in an attempt to escape his disgustingly charming and sexy smirk.
Like a graceful dolphin Satoru caught up and splashes water in your face before going ahead. Or so he thought, his smirk quickly fades as you grip his ankle and pull him underwater.
Snickering at your payback, but soon find yourself underwater as well. His strong hands pulling you down by your hips. The touch electric and butterflies doing flips in your stomach.
Both of you underwater and your vision a little unclear, but you could see him pointing at what must be the cave he spoke of.
You swam after him to the entrance and soon you both found yourselves in a small cave. Pulling himself out of water to sit on the sand he offer you a hand.
The cave wasn’t big, Satoru would probably not be able to stand upright, but it was spacious enough. It was dark except for a few stray of lights from the crack in the walls and roof.
"Is this the famous cave?" Attempting to seem unimpressed, but Satoru saw right through you.
"Don’t try to act cool, I know you think it’s awesome." Sitting down next to you with your feet in the water and shoulders almost touching.
Satoru really had no problem invading someone personal space, especially not now as his hand cups yours. You don’t reject his touch. He’s about to say something, but stops himself.
Feeling his palm tighten a little and he finally manage to speak, you turn to look at him.
"You… hey don’t look at me idiot!" He turn his face away and you grin. "What is it? Is ‘Toru scared?"
Painfully unaware of how spot on you are, Satoru struggle to control his blushing face.
"Shut up, just let me speak!" Rolling your eyes you fix your gaze on your hands instead. It was unusual of Satoru to behave like this.
He took forever to speak and right as you were about to ask what the deal was, he spoke.
"I like you."
He turn to face you, his face red and he’s biting his lower lip nervously. You could swear he was trembling and as much as he tried to hold eye contact his eyes drifted everywhere but at yours.
Frozen in place with your heart beating like a maniac you stare at him. "What?"
"Come on, don’t make me repeat myself." Satoru found his courage and plants his lips on yours, hoping he didn’t screw up now.
In shock you still manage to answer his kiss, ears deafened by your throbbing heartbeats and the feeling of his hand squeezing yours.
You pull away from each other and you finally make eye contact with his vibrant eyes. Relief all over his face and a smile you had never seen on him before. A smile so warm and loving, you wonder where he had kept it hidden all this time.
"I like you too."
His hand cup your cheek and pull you into another kiss, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world.
-
"The lovebirds been gone for a while now. Do you think they drowned?" Shoko scouts the waters where she had last seen you before disappearing.
Suguru equally worried now stands up join Shoko with the search. He remember his friend mentioning a cave, which was mostly where they were.
"Hey, idiots! Where the fuck are you?" The brunette shouts.
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AN: This was supposed to be a smut, but honestly it felt so forced. Decided to keep this cute and fluffy.
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personasintro · 6 months
Text
Mutual Help | #44
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 20.9k+
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⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
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"Hey, Mrs. Linn, thank you so much," you say while sending an appreciative smile towards the older lady, one of Jungkook's neighbors who probably used to see you more often than ever, as she holds the door for you when she sees your hands are full.
"Oh, don't thank me dear," she waves her hand before both of you make your way towards the elevator. "We all get our hands full sometimes."
Whenever you see her, you see interest and curiosity in her eyes, probably wondering why you are visiting Jungkook so often. It's not just her though. People talk and they get nosy, especially the older aged neighbors that have nothing adventurous going on throughout their day. Mrs. Linn is curious, but always sweet and never asks you about anything that could be considered as nosy or uncomfortable.
She knows you're visiting Jungkook, something you told her when she asked you if you're a new neighbor. Without too many details, you explained that your best friend lives here and you're just visiting him often. Ever since January, you've been coming here almost every day, depending on how you, Jimin and Taehyung take turns. It's March right now, so most of Jungkook's neighbors already recognize your faces, quickly classifying you as Jungkook's friends.
Mrs. Linn gets off the elevator first, living a few floors below Jungkook's floor, but she doesn't forget to send a nice greeting towards you once again as you return it, closing the elevator's door by pressing a button once she disappears behind the corner.
The walk towards Jungkook is always the same. The familiar hallway feels like a second home to you by now. A hope that things are better with him and a justified part of fear always walks you through your way towards his apartment. Pulling out the card and pressing the password of his home isn't as easy with your hands full of bags, but somehow you manage when the lock clicks and a little melody lets you know you've successfully opened the front door.
Setting down the bags on the floor, you take off your shoes and hang your leather jacket beside Jungkook's, taking the bags with you as you make it through his apartment. Surprisingly, Jungkook isn't slouched on his big couch while watching whatever he hasn't watched on Netflix yet. He is still in the living room though, barely giving you a glance as you pause and stare at him while he's lifting up the dumbbells.
Shirtless, while wearing his sport shorts he glances at you with an unbothered gaze, almost ignoring you as he keeps working out despite your presence there. Not that you expected anything more. He probably thought you're not coming here tonight.
You had to work overtime a little bit and then the wait for a take-out took half an hour. You're not an idiot. He's probably annoyed by the constant visits by either of you, Jimin or Taehyung. So far, he hasn't said anything and just went along with it. But none of you are stupid, you know he probably finds all of this ridiculous.
Ignoring him, you sigh and place the take-out on his coffee table, eyes not ignoring the two cans of beer that are probably empty.
"I brought us some chinese and sushi," you tell him, knowing he hears you even through the faint sounds of some TV show coming out of his television. "Come eat." Is what you tell him as you make your way towards the bathroom to wash your hands.
Surprisingly and luckily, Jungkook's dumbbells are laying on the floor behind his couch by the time you make it back. Your friend already sits on the couch and opens a few boxes of take-out while the delicious smell fills his living room. Plopping onto the space next to him, you glance at him to check up on him without saying a word.
His long black hair is falling onto his eyes a little, some of it sticking to his face because he's sweaty from his work-out. Still, you get to smell a faint scent of his cologne. Half-naked sitting next to you, tattoos on full display and a couple of more he got in addition to his pieces the last and this month, you're trying to focus on why you came here in the first place.
"Thanks for the food," he tells you as he opens the box and you notice he has brought cutlery for the both of you when you were in the bathroom.
"Of course," you smile, reaching for your food as your stomach grumbles, notifying you of the hanger you've been feeling ever since the diner time.
Jungkook turns up the volume a little, both of you focusing on the food and TV. As much as your curiosity and concern tells you to fully check on Jungkook, you keep your eyes off him knowing he's annoyed by the constant worried looks all of you give him. He's the first one to finish his food, cleaning after himself before he disappears in his bathroom. A minute later, you hear water running which makes you sigh as you grow already full, putting back down the leftovers.
It's been like these for two months now. Ever since the truth came out. The first weeks were the worst. Jungkook wouldn't talk to anyone, he wouldn't even eat properly which made you terribly concerned when you clearly saw he lost some weight.
Kiko has ruined him.
What hurts you is to see him going through this and there's nothing you can do to ease the pain and loss he's feeling. He wouldn't even talk to you which hurts the most. But this isn't about you.
At least he's slowly getting better, even though you're not sure if you could call it that. He's obviously going through a lot of pain and a heartbreak, and maybe he doesn't confide in any of you, but at least he tries to stay busy. He's working more than usual and if he isn't, he's probably stuck in a gym. There are always two options where he is at, if he's not home.
Pulling out your phone, you're not too surprised to see Jimin checking on you and Jungkook.
Jiminie: how is he? 
"As usual, nothing new tbh" You type back, sighing as you rub your forehead looking around.
Well, at least he keeps his apartment clean and doesn't forget to take care of himself as well. There were days when he would barely walk out of his room, pleading with you, Jimin and Taehyung to leave as he insisted on being alone. You didn't like that and if it weren't for Jimin's persuition, you'd never leave him alone.
Although, they didn't find out about Kiko and what she's been hiding this whole time right away. It took them a week to realize there's something going on, especially when Jungkook wouldn't pick up his phone and your conscience couldn't make out too many excuses why you can't hang out with them.
"Jimin and Tae are asking about you... I think you should at least text them, they're worried." You told Jungkook a day after he found out about Kiko. You refused to leave him alone in that state, especially when his kitchen looked like a tornado happened there.
Jungkook could barely stand on his feet, but still insisted on cleaning after himself so you wouldn't cut yourself on the shattered glass. You didn't listen to him though, and helped him, using his then current state so he wouldn't scold you.
He didn't tell you anything when you told him about your worried friends, that's until they got fed up with your lame excuses and Jungkook's lame of a text saying 'he's busy' and came to Jungkook's. When they saw you and the guilty yet sad look you gave them, their thoughts were proved right that there's something happening.
Jiminie: is he as annoyed as he was yesterday? 
Well, you didn't see him yesterday but you heard from Jimin that Jungkook wasn't in the mood of having one of you there again. You get that. But you also know Jungkook and he definitely doesn't want to be alone all the time. So whenever one of you can, you always make sure to hang out with Jungkook and silently let him know that he's not alone. He's been trying to push all of you away, but you're stubborn. He would do the same thing if the roles were reversed.
"he hasn't said anything but yeah, I think he is lol"
Even the 'lol' sounds sarcastic and painful, it makes you scoff at yourself.
Jiminie: he's softest around you out of us three
Jiminie: good luck with golden boy you'll need it
"wow thanks, what a support"
He sends you a laughing emoji back, causing you to snort at him before you toss your phone next to you, just as the bathroom door opens and Jungkook walks out of there wearing cotton shorts with a shirt covering his upper body. Hair wet from the shower, you can already smell the scent of his scented shower gel as he walks towards the couch and past you.
Noticing the dark circles underneath his eyes, your heart breaks at the sight but you force yourself to look away as you make yourself comfortable, staring at the TV even though you could care less about the show it's playing there.
"You know, you don't have to come here almost every day. I'm not a kid." Jungkook speaks up for the first time, and you almost cry out of happiness when you finally hear his voice. He doesn't sound broken, but he's not fine for sure.
You glance at him, chuckling at him as your eyes meet. Trying to keep yourself composed, ignoring how his dark circles basically scream for attention, you look away. "Tell that to Jimin and Taehyung too."
Your voice is light and humorous, acting as if your almost every day visit is just a casual thing. Both of you know why you're doing this and Jungkook sees right through you, although he doesn't call you out on it. It's pointless anyway.
"I already did," he murmurs, staring down at his hands that rest on his lap. "It's... I--you don't have to come here Y/N." he says, features twisted painfully when he says it as if the last thing he wants is to hurt you with his words. You know he doesn't mean it that way.
"I want to," you tell him immediately, seeing him looking away as he sighs. "Kook," you call out to him, seeing him looking at you again as you straighten yourself and scoot closer to him. "If you don't want me here, then tell me. I'll leave right away and I won't come back unless you call me."
You don't like this idea and you've tried to be there for him for sometime over two months now. You're not sure if your presence is helping in any way, but you also don't want to make him feel worse because you're too stubborn to let him deal with this on his own.
Throughout this heartbreak and loss that he's experiencing, Jungkook has never openly said he doesn't want you here. Sure, his behavior probably indicated he's somehow annoyed at your, Jimin's and Taehyung's not so oblivious attempts of trying to look after him through this stage of his current state. But he never explicitly said he doesn't want you here and that's why you keep coming and haven't left already. This is Jungkook you're talking about. You wouldn't leave him just like that.
But if it's something he truly wants and he'll feel better, then so be it.
"I--" Jungkook stops, shutting his eyes as he rubs them while resting his elbows on his knees. "I didn't mean to sound like an asshole. I--what I meant is, that you don't have to babysit me. Nor Jimin and Taehyung have too."
Sighing, you scoot closer to him before your hands make contact with his back, feeling how tense he is. One hand rubbing his back while the other caringly squeezes his shoulder, you shake your head. "We don't babysit you, I don't think you'd do something stupid. We're just worried, Kook. You've been through a lot. I know we can't make the pain go away, but we're here for you."
He stays silent for a moment and you see him nod before he groans. "But this is ridiculous. You guys don't have to come and check on me as if I'm not capable of living my life. You don't have to bring me food as if I'm not capable of doing that on my own. I--I'm sure you guys have other things to do, more important things to do in your evenings and days than checking on me as if I'm some kid."
"You're just acting like one sometimes," you tell him lightly, joking as you nudge your shoulder against his which makes him roll his eyes. Chuckling, you lean your head against his biceps. "You're not alone in this, Kook. If we didn't want to be here for you, we wouldn't come here at all."
You feel his shift, causing you to pull away slightly to get a glimpse at him. He's looking at you, face saying thousands of words and it pains you to see the sadness and pain that's still there. However, there is a glimpse of fondness in his eyes as he searches your face.
"I don't mean to sound ungrateful," he says softly, the corner of his lips lifting up slightly when you lean your head back against his biceps while staring up at him with big and curious eyes. "I'm--I'm gonna be fine. It just takes some time."
He doesn't sound convinced though.
"Of course you will," you tell him, cheek pressed against his arm. "Heartbreak isn't fatal." you remind him softly, knowing that one day he'll be able to look back onto this stage in his life and admire himself for being so strong.
"Then why do I feel like it is?" he asks quietly, your face twisting in a worry as you pull away, still holding him close to you.
"Have you considered talking to someone?" you ask, watching his brows scrunch into a frown as you lick your lips and open your mouth to explain yourself. "Like a therapist?"
As soon as those words leave your mouth, Jungkook rolls his eyes and tries to pull away from you but you hold him close and quickly continue.
"You're not just experiencing heartbreak, Kook. I'm really worried about you, there's nothing wrong with talking about this with someone professional." you tell him, voice more loud and clear.
"I got you." he says, causing you to nod.
"You got me," you confirm, "But you haven't been talking to me much, which is fine. And that's why I think, maybe it'd be a good--"
"No, I don't need a therapist." He quickly declines your idea which makes you sigh in disappointment but you're not trying to pressure him into something he doesn't want to. You just think it's a good idea if he spoke about his feelings openly, maybe get advice from a professional that can guide him to the right path.
You're no professional. Maybe whatever advice you'd come up with wouldn't help him. Maybe you'd advise him of something wrong. You don't want that.
"Okay, it's your decision. I'm not here trying to make you do something you don't want to." you remind him softly, squeezing his shoulder for the last time before you pull away but your eyes don't leave him.
You see the side of his face, him looking at his feet as he bites into the inside of his cheek. It's like he's trying to hold back whatever that wants to spill out and he embraces himself to open his mouth. You watch him with concern, ready to tell him that he doesn't have to say anything but before you can, he already speaks.
"Hoseok texted me today," he starts, closing his eyes briefly while you keep your mouth shut, letting him continue whenever he wants. "He's... coming here tomorrow to pick up her stuff."
He says, voice completely heartbroken as he mentions Kiko without actually saying her name and you know it pains him even more than you who's just looking at him.
"Have you talked to her?"
That makes him scoff and he shakes his head. "No, not since that day... I told her I never want to see her again, so she probably told Hoseok to come and pick her stuff." Yeah, that makes sense.
"Would you like to see her?" you ask carefully, watching his reaction as he stays frozen for a moment before he shakes his head.
"No, it's... I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to face her." he murmurs, rubbing his face again. You realize he's doing that to distract himself.
"Then it's a good thing Hoseok will come instead of her." you murmur, nibbling on your bottom lip.
Jungkook stays silent, sitting without barely moving before a scoff resounds from him. "I don't even know if I want to face him."
"Then tell him not to come. You don't owe him any explanation. If you're not ready, then just don't do it." you advise him, but he only shakes his head.
"No, I can't stand looking at her things scattered all over this apartment. It's better if he comes to get it..."
"Okay," you nod, reaching for his hair as you brush it off his face. "You want me to stay here tonight?"
He turns to you to look at you, "No, no... I'm sure you've other things to do."
You playfully roll your eyes at him, "I actually don't," you point out, "Tomorrow is Saturday, so I'd probably spend it alone anyway. I could be here when Hoseok comes? If that helps."
He frowns, probably ready to protest but you arch your brow at him, letting him know that it's totally fine and you'd like to stay anyway to make sure he's okay. So he sighs, nodding at you. "Alright, I... that would be fine."
Sending him an encouraging smile, you reach for the controller that's been sitting on the coffee table. "You up for a game?"
He definitely doesn't look like he's in the mood for that, but you wiggle your brows at him. "I'll kick your ass this time."
Jungkook knows what you're trying to do, but eventually after looking at you he scoffs amusingly before he snatches the controller from your hands. "We'll see about that." he mutters, the competitive side of him kicking in as you can't help but grin at him while he's starting to set up the game.
After two months of barely getting any response from Jungkook, you finally see a glimpse of the old him and you just can't fight the grin off your face. Not even when he truly kicks your ass in every game and round you play. He's not rubbing it into your face like he usually would, or joking about it but when he cocks his brow at you, a look that says 'I told you', you couldn't be happier with the progress he has managed to make.
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Sometime during the night, when all the lights are turned off and the only glimpse of natural light is the moon peeking from the blinds, you turn around on Jungkook's bed. The movement is careless and you momentarily forget that you're actually sharing a bed with him. Yes, after proposing that you sleep on his big couch, Jungkook completely refused your idea and told you to go to sleep in his room. He said he'll take the couch which didn't sit with you well, after five minutes of bickering you settled on sharing the bed.
It's not the first time you both are sharing a bed. It's not a big deal. Plus, you're both single. It has never been a big deal for you to share a bed.
When your arm slaps against the mattress on Jungkook's side, you already wait for him to wake up and scold you for taking up most of the space like what happened too many times. But you're met with an empty space beside you which makes you crack your eyes open, lifting your head while your rustled hair falls onto your face. Groaning, you push them away just to be met with Jungkook nowhere to be seen.
Looking around, it takes you a while to notice he's not in the room. You could easily go back to sleep, but something doesn't seem right about Jungkook not being here. Sure, he could've gone to the bathroom or something. But all you can think about is his dark circles, which is enough proof that he probably has trouble sleeping. Pulling the duvet off your body, you don't bother to put on the slippers as you open the door from his room. Your head slightly pounds from the lack of sleep but you ignore it, eyes scrunched when you spot a light coming from the kitchen.
It's a dim lightning, nothing too bright but enough for you to notice Jungkook standing with his back turned to you, facing the kitchen light that's under the cabinet that isn't as invasive as the normal lightning would be.
You approach him quietly, your feet paddling against the floor. "Can't sleep?"
He doesn't flinch or jump from your sudden presence, but he turns his head to you abruptly as if he was caught doing something. It's only then when you notice the bottle of whiskey in front of him and a glass settled right next to it. He looks at you guilty, looking away as if he didn't want you to see it.
Sighing, you lean against the counter with your lower back as you watch him. "Does it help?"
"Couldn't fall asleep," he murmurs, "It usually helps me to fall asleep faster,"
You bite back the scolding you would most likely give him in other scenarios. But he wouldn't be drinking in other scenarios to help him to fall asleep, would he?
"Go back to bed, I'll be there soon." he tells you, grabbing the glass before he pours the entire dark liquid that's been there into his mouth.
Watching his neck bop at the movement, he swallows it as he bites onto his lower lip. His tattooed hand goes to his hair, running through them before he grips the edge of the kitchen counter. He's not going to get rid of you that easily, plus you can't go back to sleep knowing he's here drinking and trying to fight with insomnia this way.
Jungkook gives you a look when you turn around, hoisting yourself up to the kitchen counter to sit on it as you give him a smile. "Pour me one too."
Frowning, he stares at you. "Don't be ridiculous. You don't drink this late."
"Neither you used to," you tell him softly, "Fine, then I'll take the bottle."
Before your hand can reach the bottle, Jungkook is already snatching it as he rolls his eyes at you and pours a small amount into the glass, sliding it towards you. "You take the glass, I'll take the bottle." he says defeatedly which makes you grin in success.
"Fine by me," you hum, tasting the alcohol as you cringe right away but swallow it anyway, ignoring Jungkook's raised and knowing look. "How long have you been up?" you ask, trying to make a conversation.
After the games you both played, you went to take a shower and take off the make-up to get ready for the bed. Jungkook has lent you one of his shirts and luckily found one of your pajama shorts you always kept here during your summer sleepovers. Once you were done, Jungkook was already in bed staring at the ceiling and once you had joined him, he turned off the lights and went to sleep. At least that's what you thought because by the time ten minutes had passed away, you had already fallen asleep.
Looking at the digital clock on his stove, you realize it's three in the morning. You've slept for four hours.
"I never fell asleep." he admits silently, ignoring your worried gaze as he drinks from the bottle.
"How long is this lasting?" you ask quietly, not wanting to sound as if you're scolding him. You're worried.
"Ever since that day," he answers, causing you to suck in breath as your heart cracks at the new information. This is even more serious than you've thought. You knew there's obviously something more going on with him, something you, Jimin or Taehyung know about. "But I don't drink every day, especially during the week when I've to work and drive the next day."
At least he's responsible, you think as you look away from him and sigh. "It breaks my heart to see you like this, Kook." you admit quietly, voice almost cracking as he glances at you, eyes filled with sadness and guilt.
"That's why I didn't want you to come here and see me like this." he says back but you only shake your head.
"Don't say that," you lick your lips, "I'd rather be here than wondering how you are doing."
"Isn't it obvious?" he scoffs, glancing at you as you sigh in defeat but silently agree with him. He doesn't sound angry at you, he's angry at the situation, at the pain he's feeling. It's like you can understand what he's going through, even though realistically you've no idea how much pain he's enduring.
Attention taken away by a movement, you watch Jungkook walking towards one of the cupboards as he pulls out something that rustles in his hold before he hands you the item. It's a pack of crackers, it makes you smile as you look up at him with a question in your eyes.
"So you won't feel sick from the whiskey," he explains, watching you grin at him as you open it, plopping a cracker into your mouth before you point towards your glass, silently telling him to pour you one more.
He looks skeptical but he does it either way which you thank him for. Offering him the pack of crackers, he shakes his head with a faint smile but it's very short-lived when it drops and he's back to his sadself.
Silently, you munch on the snack. This is the worst. You've no idea what to say. Distracting him is too obvious and something tells you he's not in the mood for that. Trying to make a conversation at three in the morning is... what would you even talk about? Even from your point of view, all you can focus on is the elephant in the room but it's Jungkook's call. You're not going to make him talk when he clearly doesn't want to.
So you sit on the kitchen counter while Jungkook stands beside you, taking a sip from the whiskey every now and then as you both are enveloped by the silence. After a few minutes, you place the pack of crackers down at the same time when Jungkook suddenly scoffs. He's been in his own world for the past few minutes, clearly thinking and almost forgetting about your presence.
"Isn't it funny?" he asks, tone dripping with sarcasm, hurt and sorrow. He swallows another shot before he continues. "I would be a dad by now,"
You don't think you've ever heard him like this. So empty, yet so broken and angry at the same time. His words make your chest clench, heart fully empathizing with the sadness from all of this. Jungkook would be an amazing dad, whether he'd be ready for it or not. He fully dedicates himself to everything, he always does things at hundred percent. No less.
"All those times," His voice cracks, eyes pinching together as he rubs them while you straighten yourself, staring at him with nothing but sympathy and worry.
However, you keep your mouth shut. It's very rare for Jungkook to be sharing something so personal with you these days and you don't want to ruin it by saying anything. So, you just let him talk and get it off his chest.
"You called me a dad as a joke," Your mouth falls open, eyes watering at the sight of Jungkook's broken glance he gives you. "We joked about that a lot. If only I knew--" He stops himself, visibly taking a deep and shaky breath to stop himself from crying.
Reaching for his arm, you grasp it and pull him towards you. Surprisingly, he doesn't protest but looks at you with a confusion written all over his broken face, until you can't see it anymore because your cheek is pressed against his chest. Cuddling up to him and wrapping your arms around his frame, you hug him tightly.
"I'm so sorry, Kook," you cry to his chest and you feel him tense, before he sighs and hugs you back. "I'm so sorry." you whisper, staining his shirt with your tears he undoubtedly starts to feel.
"It's not your fault..." he mumbles, leaning his cheek against the top of your head.
"I know, but it breaks my heart to see you going through this," you admit, sniffling as you feel him pull away. He meets your teary gaze, giving you a weak smile as he wipes off your tears. "You don't deserve this."
Dropping his hands, he doesn't protest because he knows that's true. It's not selfish of him to admit it. He has never done anything to hurt Kiko. He has always showered her with so much love and respect, and she broke his heart for the second time just like that. You've never seen her being hurt like that when she stormed out of Jungkook's apartment looking like a complete mess. She really is sorry but it's no excuse for what she has done to him. She has ruined him.
"I'm pathetic," Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head as he leans against the kitchen island, right on the opposite side of where you're sitting. "I'm so fucking pathetic,"
You tilt your head to the side, watching him rub his eyes for a moment and you want nothing more than to envelop him in a hug once again.
"I gave her a second chance, I trusted her. I made a fool out of myself, I fucking--I was forgiving her for cheating--a fucking cheating!" he exclaims, making you flinch but you stay glued to your spot, gripping the edge of the counter tightly. "I love--loved her so fucking much, I would give her the world!"
"Kook--"
"And she broke my heart like I never meant anything to her!"
It doesn't matter that it's the middle of the night and he could possibly wake up his neighbors. You're genuinely scared he's going to break all over again. Not because you're scared of him. You're scared for him.
"Would you rather live in a lie?" you ask softly, making him pause for a moment.
"What?" he breathes out.
"Would you rather think she cheated? Or believed she broke up with you because she needed space? I know it hurts, Kook," you say softly and carefully, "I might not fully understand the pain you're going through... but isn't it better that you know the truth? Even if it hurts..."
He knows you're right. She made a fool out of him, just like he said. Maybe not purposely, in a twisted way you understand why she did that, hid the truth from him. To spare him the pain she's been feeling and experiencing on her own, even though... Can their pain be compared? She had a choice, Jungkook hadn't.
"It hurts so much..." he whispers, and you swear you hear your heart cracking. Hopping off the counter, you go straight to hug him all over again.
"What can I do?" you murmur into his shirt, tightening your grip as his hands drop at your shoulders, squeezing them.
"Don't leave me?" he asks unsurely, feeling pathetic to be asking you that and mainly for sounding like a pathetic fool as well.
Giving him the softest smile, your lips slightly wobbling when you look into his big dark eyes. Grabbing one of his hands that's sitting on your shoulder, you squeeze it as you don't break eye contact.
"Never."
And that's enough of a confirmation Jungkook needs, sending you a weak smile for the first time in a long time. When you lead him to his bedroom after turning off the light, leaving the alcohol abandoned on the kitchen counter along with your glass, you both hide yourselves under the covers. You hold his hands, caressing his knuckles and the back of his hands, until your eyes flutter shut and your movements slow down. The last thing you feel is Jungkook doing the same for you, until his hands slow down and he allows himself to fall asleep.
Jungkook has always been an early bird. It's something you've admired about him, or more like have been jealous about. He'd wake up at six in the morning and by the time the clock hit eight, he'd had his breakfast and workout done amongst other things.
Things have changed though. It's not shocking to not see him sleeping next to you by the time you wake up. He might have used to wake up early to be productive, always wanted to do something and despite all of that, he calls himself lazy. But right now, you're not even sure if he even fell asleep to be able to wake up. Your own tiredness chased you down last night and as far as you can remember, it felt like he was still awake by the time your breathing slowed down and dreams awaited for you.
He's distracting himself, this time from the awaited visit from Hoseok that should be coming any minute. It's not hard to figure that out because by the time you clean up yourself in his bathroom and change your clothes, breakfast is already waiting for you with a cup of tea you like.
Jungkook's leaning against the kitchen counter with a spaced out expression and a cup of coffee in his hand, as he slowly brings it to his lips. He looks tired but from your quick checking in, he does look a little bit better.
"Have you slept?" you ask right away, eyeing the breakfast and not sitting down just yet, fully focusing on him to show your persistence. You wonder how many times Jungkook has called you annoying in his head, but it's not like you care that much. Not as long as he gets his sleep.
Brown dark eyes flickering to you, you swear you see the corner of his lips twitching at your straightforwardness, very well known straightforwardness, before he sets down his cup with a click against the marble.
"I have," Is all he says and you sigh, not wanting to pressure him into saying more. "I made you breakfast."
"Just for me?" you cock your brow, happy to see the slightest of his grin and roll of his eyes as you sit down.
"Us," he corrects himself, surprisingly joining you.
Your eyes dancing across his face to check on him from close doesn't go unnoticed by him and he does have a little twinkle of amusement in his eyes. Grinning, you set your eyes on a bowl of fruit with strawberries and raspberries in it. The little chuckle that escapes Jungkook's lips is unheard by you as you grab the spoon and dig in.
"You know, you should eat more in the mornings. You know what they say, it's the most important meal of the day," Jungkook comments, not surprised by your choice out of all the other options on the table.
"And so is sleep," you say with a full mouth, earning Jungkook's daring and raised brow as you swallow the food before continuing. "I'd say it's more important than breakfast."
Jungkook scoffs a little, looking at his empty plate as he serves himself scrambled eggs and bread. "I did sleep."
"You did?" You don't sound convinced, raising your brows with a doubtful look.
Jungkook hums, putting some food into his mouth as he chews on it while you stare at him, slowly eating the breakfast he has prepared for the two of you.
"You don't have to worry about me,"
Yes, you do. You do worry about him because so far, you've never seen him in this state. Barely sleeping, looking so lifeless yet he's keeping himself occupied by working overtime and working out a lot which shouldn't necessarily be the worst thing. It's hard to describe, you're not sure what's good and bad for him but all you know is that he's still deeply hurting and he's keeping it to himself. He's holding it in.
"I slept okay, really."
Is he telling the truth? He still looks tired but he probably got more sleep. He's on edge, knowing today is the day when Hoseok is coming and he could be here anytime. And since he's holding it in, it's hard to say if he's doing better than he was yesterday. You wouldn't say so. Facing Hoseok isn't probably the most pleasant thing to do considering he's been trying to distract himself from Kiko. And since Hoseok is close to her and a big reminder of what she has done, it's like experiencing that pain all over again.
But maybe when Jungkook confided in you more about his thoughts and feelings, it got at least some small amount of weight off his chest. At least you hope so.
"I'm glad, or else I won't ever leave so I can check on you if you're sleeping well." you joke, lips twitching as you look up at Jungkook to see him crack a tiny smile.
He doesn't say anything but the silence isn't awkward at all, both of you eating in silence with thoughts still running. You realize you're even more nervous about Hoseok's visit than you're letting on.
You're worried.
Worried about how Hoseok is feeling about all of this. Worried about how Jungkook is going to react.
So if you're feeling this way, you can't imagine how Jungkook must be feeling.
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The moment the doorbell rings, it seems like everything has frozen for a moment. You both know who's about to come upstairs and knock on Jungkook's door any second. The cup of tea that Jungkook has made you is placed on the coffee table by your tensed hands and as you're about to turn to Jungkook, he acts quickly and buzzes Hoseok in. Once he gets back, his eyes avoid you for a moment before he looks at you sitting on his couch with big and uncertain eyes.
It's hard to detect what emotion crosses Jungkook's face. Panic, anxiety, discomfort.
Hoseok coming for Kiko's things that are still laying around his apartment – being the painful reminder of their heart crushing break-up – is still a better option than Kiko coming for them by herself.
Jungkook did say he doesn't want to see her anymore, at least she respects his decision. Although, you think she probably isn't ready to face him as well.
You wish you could hate her though. Yes, you're mad at her for breaking Jungkook's heart all over again. He's in this state because of her lies. But during those weeks ever since Jungkook told you what happened, you thought about it and her a lot. The decision she made hadn't been easy. It's hard to even think about it because nobody knows what was going on inside her head. It's easy to judge but you're not totally sure what she went through.
Yes, you don't think her decision was right – at least her decision to leave Jungkook out of it when he was a huge part of it as well. But it's not your place to judge her decision when it's not you and not your body. You can't possibly imagine what she went through, even though some of it is thanks to her. She did it to herself but still, you find some kind of empathy and you actually feel bad for her.
She should've definitely told Jungkook. He deserved to know and that's a fact. Even if she wasn't planning to start a family with him, or whatever the other reason could be, she should've told him and they could've at least talked about it. Would Jungkook be able to convince her? What would he tell her? It's something you and maybe even Jungkook himself doesn't know.
And as soft knocks can be heard coming from the front door, Jungkook looks like he's ten seconds from truly panicking and all you want is to give him a hug that would help and take away all the stress and pain he's feeling. However, you stand up and send a soft smile his way, offering to get the door which he gives you what looks like a form of thankful smile.
On the other side, as you open the front door but not before taking a deep breath, is standing Hoseok that doesn't look much better. He looks slightly surprised to see you there but it only takes a few seconds. The discomfort is evident on his face, even through the soft smile he sends your way as greeting leaves his mouth.
"Hey," you tell him softly, lifting your lips. "I just--I'm here because--he's not feeling very well." You don't owe any explanation to Hoseok but the words jump out of you before you can keep your mouth shut. Hushed and sad tone makes Hoseok look at you in sympathy.
"I'm sorry," he says sadly, coming inside as you close the door behind him.
Hoseok doesn't look like this is the place he wants to be right now and it's totally understandable if you look at things from his point of view. He knew, but you know he was just as having his best friend's back as you're having Jungkook's. The honesty in his voice isn't hard to miss and you just know he really is sorry about everything.
You're just not a person he should be saying that to.
Nodding, you give him a lipped smile and lead him to Jungkook when he takes off his jacket. Not that he needs you, he knows Jungkook's apartment too but you can see how careful he is with each step he makes, even though his steps are light and rhythmic.
What isn't rhythmic is probably Jungkook's heartbeat when he hears you coming, knowing you're not alone as he hears two sets of steps and the lingering tension with Hoseok's arrival.
Noticing Hoseok's hesitance once you turn to look at him but his eyes are already set on Jungkook, who's standing near the couch not even fully facing you. From the corner of his eyes, he can make out the two of you but doesn't even spare a glance in your direction. Well, Hoseok's.
Hoseok opens his mouth, ready to greet him and Jungkook probably doesn't catch that but the timing is adding even more tension to the whole situation when he speaks first.
"Her stuff is in the bathroom and my room."
You wince at the distant and hard tone he sets. You understand he's upset and you mostly feel sorry for him, but that doesn't mean you don't feel an ounce of pity towards Hoseok as well. He just stands there, features softening and regret written all over again on his face mixed with sadness and understatement.
"Jungkook, I'm--"
"You're what?" Jungkook snaps, this time fully turning towards the two of you looking straight at his friend in anger and betrayal. He doesn't give him a chance to respond because Jungkook is currently a ticking bomb. "Sorry? You knew the whole time and now you're sorry? Don't give me that bullshit," he scoffs, causing Hoseok to sigh as he bites into the inside of his cheek.
"How dare you to look me in the eyes and just be sorry?" The tone of his voice raises but the only thing you can detect is the hurt behind it.
"Jungkook," you mumble as Jungkook is met with your face full of pity and sadness, but he only glances your way before he looks back at Hoseok.
He definitely has more strength to be facing Jungkook because if it was you in his place, you'd be a crying mess if Jungkook looked and spoke to you that way. And you almost whimper when Hoseok makes his way over to Jungkook, not sure if that's a good idea judging by Jungkook's sharp glare.
"Yes, Jungkook, I'm sorry," he says calmly, "I know you're mad at me and you've every reason to be, I fucked up and I've regretted that every time I thought about you,"
He walks past him towards one of the doors of Jungkook's bathroom and bedroom, stopping and turning to him once again.
"But she didn't want you to know and I had to respect that as her friend."
"Don't give me that bullshit!" Jungkook yells, causing you to flinch because even though you know he's mad, you weren't expecting him to yell as soon as Hoseok finishes his sentence. "You're my friend too! You were joking with me this whole time, we hung out and you looked me in the eyes knowing she was pregnant with my baby! You fucking knew and never said one fucking word!"
Hoseok's breath trembles as he takes a breath but keeps being composed despite Jungkook's evident anger.
Jungkook takes a few steps towards Hoseok and you tense before you do the same. You're not part of this, this is between them but you don't want this to end up in a huge fight.
"When did you find out?" he asks slowly with a warning tone, causing Hoseok to look down in shame for a moment before he finds the courage to look him in the eyes again.
"Jung--"
"Stop Jungkook me, just answer. You can at least do that much."
You frown, not really liking the tense atmosphere that gets tense with each second and word Jungkook or Hoseok say.
"She told me when she asked me to accompany her, she was broken, Jungkook. There's nothing I could've done to change her op--"
Jungkook lashes at Hoseok, grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and you yelp, rushing towards them.
But Hoseok keeps talking, wanting to give Jungkook his answer. "She begged me not to tell--"
For one moment, it feels like a flashback from the New Year's Eve party when Jungkook lashed at Haneul, throwing a great punch to his face. But then... this is a completely different moment and you see Jungkook's fist in the air, causing you to act quickly. Hoseok betrayed him but he stayed loyal to his best friend, you're not sure if punching him would solve anything. Maybe it would even make Jungkook feel worse knowing he punched his good friend, whether he hurt him or not. It's not really Hoseok's fault for not knowing about Kiko's pregnancy.
You know it's stupid but you also don't want him to do something stupid because of how he feels. And before Jungkook can deliver a good and hard punch to Hoseok's shocked face, you're standing between them yelling at Jungkook to stop. The last thing you see is Jungkook's big shocked eyes as you close your eyes in reflex, opening them and finding his arm in the air stopping at the right time.
One second you see his life flash in front of his eyes and the next he's frowning that slowly turns into anger. "What thefuck are you doing? I could've fucking hit you!"
He sounds panicked, genuinely angry that you'd throw yourself like that between them, risking the chance of getting hit by Jungkook. He would never be able to forgive himself for that if that happened. You're stupid for doing that, you realize your mistake but it's important he stopped and hasn't hit anyone. That's a win, right?
"Jungkook stop, just let him get her things..." you plead with him, features softening as Jungkook drops his arm but rubs his eyes.
Taking his hands, you give them a good squeeze and one look in his eyes. He's glancing between your eyes, shifting his gaze quickly before he sighs. With one movement he turns around and starts walking to the couch where he sits, elbows already leaning against his knees as he grabs the back of his head.
The view pains you and glancing at Hoseok, he watches Jungkook with the same look before he looks at you.
"That was stupid, you know? You could've gotten punched." he says softly, silent 'thank you' lingering in his brown soft eyes.
"We all do stupid things, don't we?" you shrug, lightly chuckling as he tries to imitate a form of smile that comes out sad, the last thing he does before walking to Jungkook's bathroom.
Jungkook must've collected all Kiko's things when he was going back and forth between his room and bathroom, leaving you sipping on the tea while trying to distract yourself by watching some movie on his Netflix account. That's probably what he was doing when you heard clicking and rummaging because Hoseok comes out of the bathroom in a minute, holding a cosmetic bag with a few things in his hands too.
He does the same thing in the bathroom, coming out with a bigger shopping bag that Jungkook usually takes with him while doing a bigger grocery shopping. It must've taken a lot for Jungkook to search for her things and put them in one place for her.
Accompanying Hoseok to the front door, he looks disappointed and sad from not being able to say goodbye to Jungkook because he still holds his head in his hands, clearly not wanting to talk. It was painful to watch Hoseok open his mouth and then close it when he saw Jungkook in the same position.
"She has been going to therapy ever since she..." Hoseok reveals and trails off quietly, causing Jungkook to scoff.
"Is that my fault?" he asks bitterly. He's going to need one thanks to her too, he thinks.
Hoseok glances at you, giving you a saddened look once again as he shakes his head. "No, it's not... I'm just telling you that she's been suffering too, even though she is the one who made a decision."
Jungkook doesn't move, not sparing him a glance which Hoseok takes as his cue.
As Hoseok bids you a soft and quiet goodbye, you do the same thing and release breath as soon as the door clicks closed. Walking to Jungkook, you join him on the couch and put an arm over his shoulders while your head leans against his.
"Is he gone?"
"Yeah," you sigh, "He's gone."
You don't tell Jungkook it wouldn't be smart to hit Hoseok, as much as he thinks he deserves it. You don't even tell him how sorry you are because he knows and there's no need to say that. So you stay quiet, leaning back with him until you both fall asleep in one of the most uncomfortable positions and wake up with cranked necks and throbbing neck and shoulders pain.
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You don't go to clubs often.
Scratch that. You try not to go to clubs often but with a friend like Taehyung, it's bound to visit them at least once in a while, usually when he drags you not really giving you a choice. The blasting music that's been invading your ears for the past hour is a perfect example of that.
However, you're not the one who's been dragged here involuntarily, although you've never wanted to come here in the first place. Not that you don't like this club, not at all. This has to be the club where you feel the most comfortable in and it definitely has to do something with you working here before. After all, it's been only a month since you stopped working here and finally saved up enough money for a better car. Something you hadn't failed to mention to Jungkook at one of your attempts of checking on him and barging inside his apartment. You had talked a lot during that time, tried to update him with the littlest thing that has happened in your life.
Speaking of Jungkook, he's been tonight's victim of Taehyung's doing but surprisingly, he agreed to a proposed dinner when the first message from Taehyung suggested it in the morning. You should've known he had something up his sleeve when he suggested club before you could even finish your meal. So you got separated, changed your clothes and then met up again.
And here you are.
Tracing your finger around the rim of your glass, your gaze falls upon your best friend standing at the bar, getting hit on again. Slim and tall blonde woman is standing next to him, flashing him with a pretty smile that you can't see but can probably imagine here and there. You've lost count of those women. This is maybe third? Not that it would matter anyway, you kind of feel bad for him though. He looks uninterested but still polite enough to not turn her down, since she's obviously still standing there and batting her eyelashes at him.
Poor Jungkook, all he went for is another round of drinks but he's been standing there for the past fifteen minutes talking to her. You can see he's still not feeling himself, even though he agreed to come here and you get an idea it has something to do with what happened yesterday with Hoseok.
"Don't even say it,"
You look at Taehyung who sits down next to you, flashing you with a boxy grin when your eyes flicker to the mark on his neck that he hasn't cared enough to cover. Yes, Mr. "I'm going to use the restroom", sure. Was it the redhead he danced or the small petite woman he chatted with at a bar? Or with Taehyung, it could've been someone completely different.
"This is a bad idea, that's what you're thinking right? It's written all over your face." Taehyung runs his finger in front of your face to prove your point as you roll your eyes at him.
"I'm not saying this is a bad idea," you point out, earning a glance from Taehyung with his brow raised. "I'm surprised Jungkook agreed to come here and I'm actually glad he finally hangs out with us outside of his apartment,"
All of that is true.
Taehyung always thinks whenever someone has their issues, the best thing to solve is to loosen up but you're not entirely sure if getting drunk is the right way to solve any of this.
Jungkook has been down, that's for sure but at least he starts to communicate more and he even laughs at Taehyung's and Jimin's attempts of trying to make him laugh, or even when they're not even trying but are just being themselves. He is better, but he's still that same broken person that experienced a massive pain of loss and heartbreak. That doesn't just go away, not even in months despite you can see a little bit of progress on his part. Who knows what Jungkook isn't sharing with any of you, no matter how many times he has assured you that he is fine. You all are worried about him, you all just have a different approach to it.
"We just don't know how he'll be if he gets drunk. Have you thought about that?"
Of course, Jungkook is an adult and you don't have to watch over him as if he is a kid. You know Jungkook used to drink alcohol to help himself to sleep, he told you he's not doing that anymore but is it really true?
Taehyung considers your words, thinking about them for a moment before he sighs and places his arm around your shoulders. "I don't know either," he admits, "But at least we will be here for him?" he asks in a thought which you nod but sigh nevertheless.
"That's not the point, Tae... purposely trying to bring him to a club and getting him drunk just sounds and seems stupid." You give him a look, knowing exactly how he ushered everyone to take a shot as soon as you stepped into the club.
And of course there's a high chance all of you will drink. You're in a freaking club! It's almost as if you're asking for alcohol if you decide to spend your Saturday in a club.
"Hey, now! I tried my best!" Taehyung exclaims, shining you with his boxy grin in his usual playful mode.
You're not quite sure if Taehyung truly understands what worries you but you decide to leave it be. Jungkook can do whatever he wants and as his friend, you're worried about him but there's not much you can do. He's definitely aware of what Jungkook is going through, but he also never experienced any heartbreak to begin with. Taehyung's way of thinking is different as well and maybe to a certain extent, he's right.
Jungkook is finally out of his apartment hanging out with you without any of you having to come to his apartment uninvited. That's progress. But is the club really the greatest place to bring him into? You're not sure about that.
"And who knows, maybe he'll meet someone else here today. Or just have fun with someone," Taehyung shrugs, while your eyes almost fall out of their sockets from how casually he says it.
Is he seriously hinting at what you're thinking?
"He just had his heart broken," you point out, meeting Taehyung's eyes. "Besides he's not the type to have one night stands."
That's true, all of you know it so the chance of that happening tonight is not big. And for a moment you seem to be a little bit shocked at that thought, worried Jungkook will turn into someone he's not because of what happened to him.
"Well, I didn't think he was the type to fuck his best friend and look at you!"
Mouth falling open, you shrug and punch Taehyung in the shoulder while he doesn't seem bothered at all at how blunt he is. He shrugs, grinning at you and before any of you can say something, your two other friends finally join you with new and fresh drinks. From Taehyung's comment, you automatically reach for your drink ignoring his smug face from the corner of your eyes.
"I had to save our Jungkookie," Jimin laughs, squeezing Jungkook's shoulder who's sitting on the opposite side of the table from you.
"Women just wouldn't leave him alone."
"Are we surprised? Look at him!"
Taehyung is right.
One look at Jungkook and you understand the attention he's getting from women, which isn't that much of a surprise because people turn after him all the time.
The funniest thing is that Jungkook has put almost zero effort into his outfit. Just a casual black button up and jeans can be considered as effortless, right? But still, he's pulling it off because everything he's wearing at the moment compliments his body proportions, showing his hard work at the gym and his fit body. His hair is parted in the middle, kind of the only way to style his hair since it's long. You've caught him pulling off a man-bun a few times, but he only wears it to get the hair out of his face which occasionally happens when he's at home, working or working out like he told you once you complimented his longer hair, scolding him when he told you he's thinking about getting it cut back to short since apparently, the long hair is nuisance.
Your own outfit is nothing too crazy and you haven't put that much effort into it either. Just one of your short sleeved tight dresses which you usually wear during summer times in the daylight. It's definitely not the sexiest and prettiest outfit you've worn when partying, but it hugs your body nicely and it's comfortable. That's all that matters. Your hair is in a tight ponytail, showing off your features and cheekbones even more with the casual makeup you had done for the day and the accessories that are your small round earrings and necklace sitting between your collarbones adds a little bit more effort to your already normal and nothing special outfit.
The night feels weird and the only people in the mood for partying are Taehyung and Jimin. And when the conversation finally averts in a different direction, leaving Jungkook alone and the attention he's getting, you relax and start to enjoy your never ending drinks.
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Drunk Taehyung is stupid.
You've no idea what that man thought when he brought a foreign woman into your shared booth, playing a wingman to the poor Jungkook who had seemed clueless for the first minute. That has changed when Taehyung didn't forget to mention she's a photographer just like Jungkook, ushering her to sit next to him and show him her photos.
At first, you couldn't imagine her as a photographer. She is pretty though, obviously knows how to dress up and do her make-up. More on the petite side but her gift from God in the form of perky and bigger breasts are hard to miss. Brown eyes and a nice smile, she seemed a little bit shy at first but as soon as Jungkook noticed it (and maybe her discomfort as well since Taehyung wouldn't keep an eye off their interaction), she relaxed.
"This is not my attempt to get him to hook-up with someone," he tells you as Jungkook shows her his own photos, causing her to gush at his talent that you know very well.
All of you do.
You flick him off on his forehead when he gets too close, the alcohol causing you to cringe while he doesn't look mad and blinds you with a grin.
"I think it'd be good for him to meet someone and talk to someone, uh, new. Other than you, no offense."
"Thanks," you mutter through your glare, "Whatever that's supposed to mean."
You wish Jimin was here, he disappeared once again saying he has to use the restroom. How much has this man drunk? If he was here, he'd surely have your back and tell Taehyung his idea is stupid.
"It means," he points out with nose held high, "You're getting old, sweetheart,"
He is crazy.
You stare at him confusingly with brows furrowed so much that your eyebrows start to hurt.
"The two of you are a lost cause, so it's better Jungkook starts to meet new people, women or whatever he prefers. You know, dips his toes here and there."
"You mean dipping something else..." you mutter, ignoring Taehyung's laugh.
"True, true," he purses his lips, "But no, he can do whatever he wants. He doesn't have to dip anything in--"
"You're so wasted, man," you cut him off, rubbing your forehead. "I'm gonna get myself another drink because I can't stand your drunk ass at the moment."
"Oh, can you get me one too?"
"No, you've had enough. Maybe try bubblegum." You move past him, silently laughing at the loud gasp that can be heard even through the music.
Taehyung's loud voice is the last thing you hear coming from the booth as you make it to the bar.
"Rude!"
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"She seemed nice," Jimin comments, scooting closer to Jungkook who looks confused for a while but that's very short lived when he notices Jimin's eyes flickering to Ester who's already disappearing in the crowd.
"How do you know? You weren't even here," Jungkook mutters loudly enough for him to hear, grabbing his drink and taking a long sip from it.
"Taehyung told me, I met him on my way here."
Of course, he did.
He left shortly after you but not before giving a very "subtle" wink to him, clearly hinting at Ester. Which reminds him he has no idea where you went because before he could ask Taehyung, he used the opportunity to leave him alone. He's not stupid, Taehyung is never subtle when it comes to everything. He's like an open book and Jungkook is very aware of Taehyung's doing.
He had to admit. It was nice to talk to someone that doesn't know what he's been through. There was no pity in her brown eyes when she was talking to him. She was nice, not hitting on him like Taehyung may have expected.
He's not sure if he's ever going to see her again, but he does follow her Instagram account. They followed each other as soon as they started discussing photography and all the things his friends don't really understand. You're usually interested, so you ask and Jungkook explains whatever you're interested in, but it's different to talk about it with someone who truly knows these things.
It felt new... and fresh.
"Where were you anyway?" he asks, arching a brow at Jimin and his frequent disappearance throughout the night.
His friend scans Jungkook's face for a moment, long enough to leave Jungkook wondering even more but then he just shrugs. "Just needed some air. I'm not feeling it tonight."
That is not something you usually hear Jimin to say when it comes to clubbing. Although, he's not as wild as Taehyung is and there were times when Jimin simply wasn't feeling it, just like he called it. Very rare times though.
"Any of us is," Jungkook says," Maybe except Taehyung."
"Yeah, I guess we all have our reasons," Jimin shrugs, "But I'm glad you're here, Kook. Maybe it's not fun as usual but it's nice to finally hang out with you."
Outside of his apartment with a grim atmosphere, he means.
"Yeah, I guess it was time for me to try and enjoy myself more. I can't handle Y/N looking at me as if I'm a kicked puppy she needs to constantly check on." he chuckles.
He doesn't mean it badly. He knows you're worried about him, just like you would be if that happened to any of them. He hoped that agreeing to come here tonight would ease your nerves but judging from the look of it, you're not really in the mood to be clubbing too. Which reminds him all over again where the hell did you go. It's not smart of you to go alone, even though you're inside. None of that matters when men are pigs inside or outside of the club.
On the other side, Jimin understands what Jungkook means and nods along with his words.
"Well, I think she needs to loosen up too. She's been having a hard time with the landlord after all, which is understandable..."
"Wait, what?"
You're having a hard time? Landlord? What the hell is Jimin talking about? This definitely sounds like news to him.
"You don't know?" Jimin looks even more shocked.
He'd think Jungkook was the first person you told to but clearly he's not.
"Her contract is ending in two months and apparently the owner's daughter is moving in there, so he wouldn't extend her contract. It happened unexpectedly and the landlord has been apologizing, at least he's feeling shitty about it but yeah, she's in a very fucked up situation right now."
Jungkook stares at his drink barely blinking as he lets the news sink in. He has so many questions but it seems that even though Jimin knows way more about it, he doesn't know any further details.
"What is she going to do?"
"I don't know, the last time I asked her she told me she'll have to look for another apartment."
"But she bought her own furniture there and she has lived there for two years—they can't do that to her."
Jimin's features soften, shrugging because he knows what Jungkook is feeling right now. Frustration, that's what he felt too when you told him the news, almost breaking in tears from the frustration, anger and sadness.
"I told her she can crash at my place but you know what she's like..."
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Eyeing the barman's back, you wish he would just do your drink quickly before anyone tries to take their move on you, so you can join your friends. He must be new, you think. You've never seen him here.
You've spotted Mark once and minus the faint greeting you both had at the beginning of the night, you haven't seen him since then or talked to him.
Almost jumping at the body brushing against your shoulder as someone sits next to you, you're instantly met with a set of dark brown eyes you've grown familiar with over the years. Well, you've to admit you feel happy to see him here and him bringing a feeling of safety with him.
"You've a trouble with your landlord?"
You're speechless for a second, shaking yourself off from the momentary surprise by letting out a sigh. "Who told you?" you ask, glancing away at the barman before you look back at him. "Jimin or Tae?"
"They both know?" Jungkook sounds surprised, noticing the look of guilt on your face. It's okay, he's not mad at you or something. He's just surprised you haven't told him about your trouble, despite you've been filling him in with every possible detail of your life for the past two months.
It just feels weird that you suddenly left such important information. Something you told Jimin and Taehyung but not to him.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks softly, leaning his elbows against the bar but he keeps his eyes on you.
"I didn't want to worry you..." you answer, "It's not like I didn't want to tell you, but you've been dealing with your own shit and I guess--it's not even that important."
"Like hell it's not," Jungkook exclaims, "It is important. Just because I'm dealing with my own shit doesn't mean I can't deal with yours too,"
That makes both of you laugh a little but you shake your head, not really knowing how to justify your decision of not telling him other than what you've just told him. You'd tell him eventually. You've been searching for a new car as well, something Jungkook told you he's going to help you with but that was way before the biggest bomb dropped on him and had a massive impact on him.
"What are you going to do?"
You're not sure if this is the greatest topic to talk about while On The Floor by Jennifer Lopez is playing, but you've no problem talking about this with Jungkook.
"I've started to look for different apartments, something where I can move in quickly since my contract is ending in two months, actually, shorter than that... I found this nice apartment, it's not as nice as the one I have but it'll do. I have to live somewhere, the rent is a little bit cheaper but I can definitely see why."
The photos on the internet you found doesn't look very good but it seems like a decent place to live in. Maybe until you'll figure out something different. The apartment you live in at the moment has a great location, it had been definitely a bargain when you found it and had been able to move in.
However, there are far worse looking apartments and this one isn't even that bad. It's just that you got used to the one you live in right now and it'll be tough to say goodbye to it. You wish you could be mad at the owner, which you were for the first two weeks, but you also understand that he followed the contract and basically has done nothing wrong.
He has a daughter and she's going to use that apartment, maybe she needs it and like a father, he's helping her.
"Is it that bad?"
"It's not," you wave your hand, "Just not as nice as my current apartment. Plus, it's in Dobong."
"Dobong?" Jungkook's eyes widened, "But that's almost on the other side where you live now."
You chuckle at his reaction because yes, you're very aware. "I know..."
"Y/N, that's so far away from here. What about your work?"
"I'd have to travel? Or maybe they can move me somewhere closer? I don't know, Jungkook." you murmur, growing frustrated all over again at the thought because you clearly haven't figured it out yet.
Jungkook's questions are just reality, reminding you that you don't have much time before you have to make a decision. Not that you've much of a choice.
"But you're gonna be away from us... from me... from Tae and Jimin."
When he says it like that, simply pointing it out but with saddened eyes, you feel like crying because the thought of being away from your friends and all alone scares you more than you'd like to admit. Over the years, you've grown independent, more than you ever were and you're proud of yourself because of that. But not having them close like you're having them right now (and even now, you don't exactly live super close but the distance isn't that huge) makes you want to cry out from the frustration.
"Don't say it like that," you whisper, looking at your lap. "I don't really have a choice. Other apartments are expensive as fuck, I can't afford it Kook. The prices went high and they go high every year. It's hard to find a good and affordable apartment in Seoul."
Jungkook turns to you on the bar stool, hooking a finger under your chin making you look at you. "We'll think of something, okay? You're not leaving me."
You chuckle at his bunny grin and wiggling brows, suddenly pouting causing Jungkook to grab you by your shoulders as he brings you closer to him, giving you the hug you desperately need.
He smells so nice. You take a whiff, cheeks pressed against his shoulder and enjoy a few seconds before you've to pull apart because the barman finally brings you your drink.
"Let's not think about it for tonight, yeah?" he proposes, "Let's enjoy this night. No bad thoughts. No Kiko,"
Your eyes shoot up to his at the mention of her but Jungkook just offers you a grin. "No apartment problem. Just us having fun, okay?"
"Sounds good," you tell him, taking a sip from your drink. "Where's your new friend, by the way?"
"Who?" Jungkook looks confused, a realization hitting him right after. "Ah, you mean Ester. Our paths have divided."
"She was pretty." you comment, watching Jungkook's reaction as he stares at you quietly.
"Are you on it with Taehyung?" He eyes you suspiciously.
"What? No!" you exclaim, refuting his assumption right away. "I told him it's a stupid idea."
"It is," Jungkook hums, grabbing your drink and taking a sip from it, frowning for a moment as he nods at the sweet taste. "If I wanted to hook-up with some woman, I could easily do that on my own. I don't need Taehyung's help."
Laughing, you nod. "Yeah, you probably could."
"Probably?" Jungkook scoffs playfully, causing you to giggle. "All Taehyung can think about is sex, he thinks that solves everything."
"Maybe not everything, but he definitely thinks it solves everything temporarily," you point out which Jungkook agrees with, "Besides, all men think about is sex all the time."
"Hm, I can see your point," Jungkook purses his lips, "But sometimes it's hard not to think about sex when there's a beautiful woman."
You look up at him from your drink, finding him staring at you causing you to almost choke on the liquid as you clear your throat, putting down the glass as you arch your brow at him shamelessly. "Are you subtly flirting with me, Jeon?"
"Do you want me to?"
Fuck, this man is shameless sometimes.
Do you want him to?
The butterflies coming alive in your stomach are most likely a good answer for that. But it's very dangerous, no matter how exciting and good it feels.
But then Jungkook bursts out laughing, scrunching his nose at your face as you slap his shoulder, frowning annoyingly at your drink. "Dickhead."
"Hey now," Jungkook playfully frowns, "Come on, finish your drink and let's dance."
You're not sure if any physical contact with Jungkook is a good idea right now, especially when you feel your heart picking up its pace and the sight of Jungkook brushing fingers through his hair isn't helping at all.
"Why?" Trying to find a way to get yourself out of this, even though the thought of dancing with Jungkook is tempting and it's been a while since you had fun with him in a form of dance. "Why don't you go find Erica and dance with her? I'll sit here and cheer you on!"
You propose lightly and innocently, although devilish glint in your eyes as you look up at him, lips wrapped around the rim of your glass causing Jungkook to frown.
"Her name is Ester," And you want to roll your eyes, and what? "And I'd much rather dance with you."
Fucking Jungkook and his mouth for letting such words come out. His honesty, no matter how it sounds when you think about what he just said now, your head spins. You're not drunk, the drinks you've been drinking are low percentage alcohol but you feel slightly relaxed from it. And it's dangerous because your mind already wanders into places it shouldn't have.
So you do what you know the best and you start whining, masking your panicked heartbeat and mind. "I'll look like an idiot next to you!" And you mean it in more ways than just one.
First of all, you're not drunk enough to feel confident to dance with him. It's not just silly dancing you do at home or more private parties. The clubs are big and there are drunk people everywhere and you doubt everyone will have their eyes on you, but still. Jungkook is already like a magnet for eyes.
"That's not true," Jungkook disagrees, grabbing your wrist gently as he shakes it a little. "Just one dance, then. Please."
And he pouts, widening his eyes just like he knows – in that innocent and cute way that makes you shut your eyes as you let out a loud groan, knowing you've lost. "Okay, but I'm gonna finish my drink and you're going to have one too."
He sits back like an obedient student, flashing you with a bunny grin.
"Deal."
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Jungkook's convincing skills are good, just not as good as yours. Finishing your drink meant two more and Jungkook's one drink turned into three, all thanks to your pleading eyes and shameless begging and Jungkook's soft spot for you.
"You're trying to get out of this, you still owe me one dance." Jungkook has told you when the barman placed the second round for the two of you.
"The night is still young, Jeon, relax." you've told him in return, sending him a grin with your glass in the air in a silent and yet another cheers.
You've to admit, as much as dancing with Jungkook sounds exciting, talking to him like nothing bad is happening in your lives feels refreshing and you wish the reality wouldn't get to you tomorrow morning. Or ever.
But it seems some things get to you sooner or later.
It's the time when your bladder lets you know you've to really use the restroom, no matter how much fun you're having with Jungkook and mindlessly planning your friend's summer vacation. Jungkook laughs when you excuse yourself, admitting you're ten seconds from peeing yourself and he turns around in his chair towards the dance floor, having a perfect view of the restroom in case somebody would bother you.
The gesture is sweet and you can't hide the little grin on your lips when your eyes meet, before you really usher to the restroom. Once you're done, bladder empty and hands cold from the water, you're completely thrown off when someone calls your name just a few meters away from you.
Voice you haven't heard in months but remember perfectly despite your short relationship.
Haneul walking towards you with soft eyes makes your heart skip a beat, but not in the good and exciting way but quite the opposite. You're too shocked to see him right here, in front of you looking just like you remember him because there's barely a change in his appearance. He looks good, very similar to what he looked like when you first met him. Black leather jacket, jeans and some shirt under his jacket, it's like some weird deja vu happening right now and you've to blink a few times to convince yourself he's real.
"Hi," he says as he stops, offering you a hesitant smile which you don't return because you're too busy staring at him as your brows slowly scrunch into frown. "I just spotted you and wanted to say hi. Don't worry, I've no bad intentions."
He better not because you're not scared to deal with him. But one look at him and his soft features, you start to feel guilty for being in a slightly panicked and careful mode. It's not like you've a reason to be scared of him. You broke up and even though the memory of your last conversation still slightly hurts, you've no hatred feelings towards him. You wish him well and you really think he's not a bad person.
"Well... hi, then." you mutter, mentally slapping yourself. It's more than clear you've no idea how to react to him and to Haneul, you look weirded out by his sudden approach to you.
"I don't want you to think I stalk you..." he says, glancing at his feet in embarrassment.
"Why did you come to the club I worked at?" Hence the past tense that doesn't go missed by Haneul and you see surprise and curiosity cross his features but he doesn't have the guts to ask.
"My friends wanted to come here. Listen, I can leave if I make you uncomfortable." he says simply, offering you a shrug that means he won't be mad if you tell him you don't want him here.
Which is stupid because he's free to visit whatever places he wants to. Your break-up wasn't that bad to the point you couldn't be able to be with him in the same room. It is weird he's here, knowing you met here and you still worked here just a month ago. There is a high chance he knew you could be here and if he really wanted to avoid seeing you, he wouldn't come here whether his friends wanted him to or not.
But that's kind of selfish and you're overthinking things once again. Maybe it's not that dramatic.
"No, stay," you tell him, "I'm just surprised to see you again..."
It's polite to ask how he is but you're not sure if you want to have a friendly conversation with him. You've come to the terms that it's best not to keep him in your life and even a simple conversation is not necessary in your opinion. You moved on and you hope he did as well.
"Okay," he murmurs, "I--enjoy your night."
And with that, he turns around and leaves. You watch him long enough to see his friends in the background as he joins them, but before you can watch any further or any possible stares his friends could give you, you're already walking to the bar.
Jungkook is still there, not noticing you right away as his eyes stay attached to the dance floor while his fingers drum against the bar stool to the catchy music. "Oh, you're here!" he exclaims, briefly lisping from how quickly he says it.
He doesn't give you any time to react, already standing up as he leads you to the dance floor, tossing you a handsome grin over his shoulders. Realizing you've no chance, you deduce you feel tipsy enough to allow yourself to loosen up, even with Jungkook's close proximity and hands on your hips and yours on his biceps.
++
Jungkook's one dance never ends with one dance and when Jungkook wants to dance, he has to be in a good mood which you think is an amazing change. The alcohol flows freely in your body, the last three drinks you recordly gulp down causing everything to feel numb.
Everything besides Jungkook's hands.
You like the feeling of freedom the alcohol brings you. Overthinking is left somewhere else, letting you enjoy every second and touch of this. What in your more sober state you wouldn't appreciate about it though, is the lack of control you're having over your own thoughts and needs.
It's a hard task to stay unaffected and you're failing miserably, feeling your insides tingle with excitement that you thought is long gone but it's proved only Jungkook can make it come to life. You're both still tipsy which is good because it means none of you is drunk. Tipsy enough to want to get even closer to Jungkook which is freaking stupid, because he's already close enough as it is.
Your back pressed against his chest, ass brushing against his crotch and the zip of his jeans doing the same thing here and there seems like a big deal. You're selfish, because instead of putting some distance between your dancing and slowly getting sweaty bodies, your arm stays outstretched behind you, hand holding the back of his head and fingers buried in those dark locks of his. The other arm is holding the one of his hands that's on your hip.
Jungkook's warm breath hitting the crook of your neck causing you to shudder – shudder out of excitement and Jungkook himself.
You know you've lost. It's too late to end this – at least that's what you tell yourself because you don't want to end this. You wish he'd just lean down and press those lips onto your neck like he knows you love. You wish you could feel his hard dick and it's embarrassing how wet it feels between your thighs, even though his bulge is nowhere in its full hard-on state.
God, you're fucked. And tipsy. And horny.
And fucking stupid because when you shamelessly grind your ass against Jungkook, there's no chance it looks like an accident. If you could turn around and look at him, you'd see him biting his lower lip.
His hands squeeze your hips, almost the same way they did when he was balls deep inside you. Fuck, you forgot how that feels and you're ashamed to be even thinking this. It's not right. He's going through a break-up, no matter how many weeks have passed and you're best friends. The deal ended a long time ago, so what the fuck are you doing?
Jungkook's lips brush against your jaw, nose nudging it right after as you whimper, thankfully the sound gets masked by the loud music and bass that vibrate through your body. Everything is hazy, just not Jungkook.
"Are you trying to make me hard?" he asks lowly, almost amusingly and he sounds so hot that you've a urge to turn around and kiss him, just because he's close and you're fucking horny thanks to him.
Get a grip, Y/N, don't do a fucking mistake just because you're tipsy and haven't had sex since December. You went without sex longer than this, so why the fuck are you getting so desperate?
"Is it working?" you ask breathlessly, loudly for him to hear and you want to mentally slap yourself, but the temptation and excitement are holding the upper hand here.
"I'm trying not to get hard," Jungkook points out, the same low and deep tone as if he's telling you the deepest secret. "Don't start something you can't finish."
And that spurs you on even more, accepting the challenge as you turn around, staring right into Jungkook's dark and very much awake eyes. He has a lazy grin on his lips, living for the fire in your eyes and you're not sure if it's whether he's amused by all of this or if he's feeling it too.
"You out of people should know I never start something I can't finish,"
Hinting at something that hasn't been talked about for a very long time, because you both came to conclusion it haven't affected negatively your friendship and you're still the two best friends you've been, Jungkook's features darken and it's unbelievable you can see it even through the shitty club lightning.
Hands brushing against his chest, you slowly brush them down against his toned abs that you can feel through his button-up, causing you to bite off the gasp that wants to get out. He's definitely much buffer than the last time you got to properly touch him like this.
"Did you forget?"
There's the boost of confidence growing inside you, very much thanks to the alcohol and probably hormones that are making you do and say all these crazy things.
Jungkook chuckles, the corner of his lips lifting in a smirk as if he sees right through you. Can he see how much he tempts you? Is it just one of those times you're teasing each other but are very close to playing with fire? You're not sure, but you're enjoying the thrill his eyes bring to you as they stare at you, crinkling at the ends while his hand touches a few restless baby hair and strands that got messy and slipped from your ponytail.
"You out of all people should know I never forget,"
Breath hitching, it takes you a moment to release a giggle and you've no idea why you're suddenly giggling, maybe it's mostly the way he wiggles his brows – something he does frequently when he's just fooling around.
"Shut up," you tell him, making him laugh while you watch him throw his head back a little before he's looking at you with a wide grin. "I need to use the restroom."
"Again?" he asks teasingly, causing you to roll your eyes as you take a step back from him, letting your body calm down – at least trying for it.
"You," you tell him loudly, a grin spreading on your lips as you slowly back away. "Are dangerous, Jeon."
Turning around and silently giggling, you don't hear Jungkook's next words that are practically impossible for you to hear because he mutters it amusingly and the loud music definitely helps as well.
"So are you, Y/L/N..."
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The reflection in the mirror you see as you wash your hands and finally look up to check your appearance is almost fascinating. Fascinating, because you almost don't recognize yourself – you look different. Face flushed, there's a thin coat of sweat layered on your skin and maybe it's the make-up slowly melting off, but what catches your attention the most are your wide sparkly eyes.
Jungkook still affects you and wishing you could be angry at him for it, your heart starts excitedly jumping instead at the memory of you on the dancefloor. You're not sure what the two of you are doing, if you're just fooling around and having fun or there are deeper undertones of your teasing and subtle flirting. Is it flirting? You and Jungkook would often fool around and tease each other which to some, it'd look like flirting. It's confusing and even you can't tell which one happened just a few minutes ago, but all you know is that it felt nice and exciting.
When two girls barge into the restroom giggling, drunkenly stumbling into one of the toilets, you shake yourself out of your daze and finish washing your hands in a hot water that almost burns your skin but you're too distracted to care. Messily drying them with a paper towel, you get out of there with a plan of joining Jungkook once again.
However, you're stopped by a body you bump into around the corner and the quick apology is once again on your lips, but you stop as you're met with a familiar pair of eyes. You realize there's a small percentage the whole bumping incident is a pure incident. Haenul's not surprised and apologetic eyes say it all, causing you to sigh.
"What do you want?"
You don't sound cold and rude, just exhausted. You're having a good time, after a long time, and you don't need to deal with any of this right now.
Haneul might've not planned to literally bump into you, but he has been waiting for you to get out of the restroom ever since he saw you coming there. You see his eyes slightly wide, the hint of alcohol tracing his soft features and even though he's hovering over you with his tall figure, he looks small but confident enough to face you.
"I just wanted to talk... Do you have a minute?" he asks, reaching for your arm as he gently grabs your forearm and tugs you away from the group of guys drunkenly joining the dancefloor.
Shaking his hand off, you frown, not letting yourself get soft by his attentive gesture of you not getting tossed around like a toy because of some drunk guys who don't care about anyone around them.
"Haneul, I thought we talked about this..." you sigh, telling him loud enough because you'd like to avoid repeating yourself.
"Please, just hear me out and I'll leave you alone, for real," he pleads with you, causing you to motion for him to continue.
Did he see you with Jungkook? You completely forgot about him being in this club. You're not sure if Jungkook or alcohol is to blame. Or maybe it's you, you probably should've been more considerate about Haneul still being here. But still, you're broken up and it's not like you've done anything wrong. You shouldn't feel guilty about this.
"I know I apologized before but I--I miss you so much,"
Wait, is this where he starts to beg you for a second chance?
Before you get to ask, he's already continuing.
"I can't believe I hurt you like that--I don't know why I'm telling you this, I don't know why I felt the need to talk to you again but I just saw you--"
He's drunk. Drunker than you thought he was.
He gets closer and you're stuck in your spot, unable to react properly as he strokes your cheek. All you can do is stare at him. Mentally screaming at yourself to react somehow, you're frozen while letting him touch you. He steps closer, hovering over you even more as his lips are close to your cheek to the point you can feel his warmth.
"We both have a reason to be mad at each other," he murmurs, "But I miss you so much... I wish I could kiss you, even if it's the last time."
The truth is that even though you're not physically or verbally reacting, you're having a whole inner mental battle going on. Do you want this? Do you want him to be this close to you? He's here talking about missing and kissing you, how do you feel about it? You're tipsy and horny, something that is because of Jungkook (the second part at least) and in your current state, you wonder what you even want. What do you even think about this?
Your thoughts are going slow and Haneul keeps talking, talking about how much he misses you and he really thinks he loves you despite the last words you told him when you broke up with him. Too much is going on you and you scream at yourself to wake the fuck up, especially when Haneul angles your head up towards him, eyes staring at your lips hungrily as he dives in for a mentioned kiss.
One second he's too close and your hand is up to stop him, to push his chest and tell him that he's drunk and not thinking straight. But someone beats you to it, although it's not as gentle as you'd do it because Haneul is yanked backwards that he almost stumbles and falls but someone grabs him again and pushes him to the wall.
Jungkook's eyes are filled with fire, not the kind you had minutes ago with him, but pure anger is in them as he grabs Haneul by his collar. Jungkook is quick, too quick for your liking and you've no idea what possessed him, but he's already lifting up his fist at Haneul who tries to pry Jungkook's hands off him but he's too strong.
Yanking the back of Jungkook's button-up, you yell his name. "What the hell, Jungkook?!"
"You think you can jump at her whenever you want, huh? Is that it? Who the fuck you think you are?!"
He holds his fist in the air but doesn't punch him, not yet.
Haneul is not making it any easier for himself though, looking at Jungkook with spite in his dark and drunk eyes. "Of course, you're here too." he mumbles choked up, thanks to Jungkook's harsh grip on his collar.
Oh, so he didn't see you with him.
"You're going to get us kicked out, Jungkook, let him go!" you snap at Jungkook, yanking his button-up again as you reach for his lift first and try to put it down with your full strength.
And he does. Not right away but once he looks at you and sees the fury in your eyes, he releases him but not before he scoffs at him. Jungkook saved the day once again, but the approach he chose is not very likable to you. There are people glancing your way, despite the bad lightning and loud music, the interaction has gained attention of some people and it's just a matter of time before one of the bouncers walks up to you and kicks you out.
"He wouldn't leave you alone!" Jungkook exclaims as if you're not realizing that Haneul was getting too close to you without you giving him consent.
And that's true, you realize that you don't want to kiss Haneul. You don't want to be close to him and you wonder if you would be stupid enough to let him do that because you're horny and slightly tipsy, which you're not sure if it's true anymore because this whole interaction has pretty much sobered you up.
"So you will start punching everyone?!" you exclaim.
Jungkook looks stunned for a second, as if he can't believe you just indirectly pointed at what happened with Hoseok the other day. And then he shakes himself out of it, sighing when he realizes that you're right.
He's never been aggressive. And he has a few slip-ups (three to be exact) but that doesn't define him. One was quite understandable. Haneul, the very person who's still leaning against the wall with a glare sending Jungkook, who slut-shamed you, got punched by Jungkook. Two, was Jungkook almost punching Hoseok because his friend kept his unborn baby a secret and betrayed him in ways he never expected. And now.
Almost punching Haneul again because he threw himself at you, in hope you would probably make-out with him and maybe leave this club together.
However, you don't understand why Jungkook has suddenly gotten so physical over something that could've been dealt with more silently and less violent.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles, taking a step back but doesn't leave your side as Haneul eyes him and then his eyes flicker to yours but all you can do is glare at him, reminding you that he's still here.
"You're drunk," you tell him, "Come on..." you direct your words to Jungkook this time, reaching for his hand and he does look surprised at your touch, but lets you hold his hand as you lead him away.
Not sure where you're going, you realize you're outside once the cold air hits your face but you don't pay attention to that feeling, finally taking a deep breath while you let go of Jungkook's hand and walk a few meters away from the entrance and people coming in or out.
"I'm sorry," Jungkook says again, joining you in your little spot while he stays standing next to you while you lean your back against the brick wall. "I don't know why I wanted to punch him..."
"I think you know," you tell him silently, appreciating the sounds of cars passing by and muffled music that isn't as long as it was inside. "You're sensitive and letting your frustration get the best of you."
"I didn't want you to see me like that," he admits, sighing in disappointment at himself which makes you look at him, finding him staring at the cars while you're met with the side of his profile.
His eyes sparkle at the streetlights in the nighttime, making him look even more innocent despite his massive and tall figure. Once again, he looks kind of vulnerable. Not because he feels sad over Kiko or anything else, but simply because he seems to be sorry that you had to see that.
"I just saw him cornering you--"
"I should've react, I was in a shock and I'm glad you made it there before I could've made a mistake,"
Jungkook's eyebrows twist into frown at your confession. He thought you don't feel anything for Haneul and you're past that relationship, nothing else.
"I guess I was too distracted from--"
Me and you dancing, you think but keep your mouth shut as you give Jungkook a knowing look, which you're not sure if he understands because he simply watches you.
"We had fun and then he came--he was drunk, I don't think he'd ever approach me like that if he was sober. I bumped into him earlier and he was fine, just said hi and left me alone."
"Yeah, alcohol does wonders."
Yeah, it does. You chuckle at that.
Jungkook steps closer, stopping right in front of you as he's hovering a similar way Haneul was a few minutes ago. But the difference is that Jungkook's close proximity makes you feel safe, comfortable and excited at the same time. The familiar burn in your stomach comes alive again, the little remains of alcohol in your stomach making you feel drowsy again but you know the truth is somewhere else. You can't put it on alcohol when you barely feel it in your system.
"Are you okay?" he asks, leaning down to check your face closer as you keep your mouth shut, gulping as you stare into his dark orbs that look concerned.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" you breathe out, nibbling onto your bottom lip, unaware of your self-conscious doing until Jungkook stares down at your lips. His eyes jump between your lips and eyes, checking you as you feel the sudden need to touch him.
The need to push some of his hair from his eyes, to have your fingers wrapped in them again like that time when you were dancing. Bodies close, hands on your hips and ass pressed against his groin area... fuck--
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks, tilting his head innocently as you open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out of your mouth. "Do you want to head home or go back inside?"
All you know is that you don't want to go home and be left alone. You realize you want to stay with Jungkook, preferably turn back time and be back on the dance floor with him close to you. Enjoy the last minutes, even without something you've been silently craving for all of a sudden. You've no idea what's wrong with you. Is this how super horny people feel? Is this how men think with their penises? Is this how women think with their vaginas?
"Do you want to go home?"
Jungkook chuckles and looks away for a moment amusingly, and maybe a little annoyed that you can't simply answer and ask him a question back instead.
"If you're going home, then I'm going home too." he answers simply, giving you an answer which makes you nod.
"One dance and then we can go? What do you say?" you ask, anticipation in your eyes as Jungkook simply nods and motions his head towards the entrance.
"Okay, let's go... it's cold out here anyway and we should find Jimin and Tae to tell them we're leaving soon."
You almost complain, knowing Taehyung would most likely hold you hostage, so the two of you can stay longer but you stop, knowing as long as you've Jungkook with you, he'll take care of it. And Taehyung.
Jungkook leads you straight towards the dancefloor, his hand finding yours as soon as you make it inside as he holds you close to him. Somewhere in the distance you see Taehyung making out with a woman, the sight not that unfamiliar and you see Jimin chatting up close to him with another woman. If you paid more attention, maybe you'd have noticed how Jimin and the woman stare at the pair next to them amusingly – which means the two women are friends. But all of that goes unnoticed as you get them out of your sight, Jungkook's back and tattooed hand holding yours being the main attraction for your eyes.
Not even a minute on the dancefloor and you naturally find your way back to yourselves, in a similar position like before. Ignoring the way the one part of you mentally chants that yes, you might've not turned back time but this is even better, because Jungkook's hands are all over you again and so are yours, wrapped in his hair like you wanted them meanwhile the other hand holds the nape of his neck. His mouth brushes against your cheek and you shiver, whimpering how good it feels but it's not good enough.
"Jungkook," you mutter into the air but it's almost impossible for him to hear you through the music, but once you turn your head slightly to look him in the eyes, you're met with the sight of his lips again.
You tilt your head back a little, finally seeing those dark orbs that watch you attentively, hands not leaving you. Shameless and fucking brave is what you are, but it's not like you can't really control yourself (at least it seems that way) because your eyes find their way to Jungkook's lips again. Wanting to cry out of frustration, you know your body longs for something else and your rushed breaths are one of the first indicators for it.
And then you grab the back of Jungkook's hand, inching his face even closer. You wait for him to pull away or at least give you a reaction that would say this is not what he wants. You would be fucking embarassed if that happened, but maybe it would be for the better.
However, he lets you and just stares at you, almost as if he's challenging you to take the first step. Does he want this too?
Does he feel the need to kiss you just like you do?
He probably feels something because he would pull away if he didn't, you try to think rationally.
Surprisingly, you take the first step and nudge his nose with your own, bodies stopping but not inching further away from each other. It's like a huge throwback once again, this time involving all the affectionate kisses and the thing you always did, almost hesitating before you finally kissed. You wonder if Jungkook remembers it, if he knows exactly what you wish for and if he's remembered of all of those times he has done it to you.
And finally (maybe unfortunately) your lips slightly touch but it's not a kiss, they just briefly brush against each other as if both of you are testing the waters, wondering where your bodies and secret temptation will take you.
Growing annoyed and frustrated, you're ready to groan because there's something holding you back and you hate that at the moment but as always, Jungkook saves the day and with a little bit of force forward, he lets his lips meet yours for the first time in a long time.
In a time you thought would never come because you were past all of that.
Maybe this is a stupid thrilling decision but you can't bring yourself to think about it, nor curse yourself for it because oh, Jungkook's lips feel amazing and you feel like whimpering or cry out of pure satisfaction. They're soft just as you remember, maybe even softer and suddenly, it feels like nothing has changed and you're back to last year's summer. Letting yourselves to be free, not thinking about consequences and just enjoying each other's presence.
It's hard to think about everything else when Jungkook's warm lips are on your own, and it's funny how the only thing you manage to do is to take another step and start moving your lips against his own, now truly kissing him. He kisses you right back, moaning when you tug his hair and his palm spreads against your stomach, holding you close against his toned and strong chest.
You don't even care, you probably look like one of those nasty couples that make out in public. This even tops all your wet dreams you've shamefully had about Jungkook. Because the difference is that this is real.
The first swipe of his tongue sends an electrifying jolt all over your body, your thighs pressing together as you try to relieve the tension between them. Kissing until you're gasping for oxygen, the weird smell of people and sweat filling your nose almost making you puke, you peck his lips one last time before you lick your bottom lip.
"Take me home, Jungkook."
He's surprised, you can see it the way his brows shoot up a little and uncertainty framing his eyes by your simple yet shocking request, but he gives you a nod which you mentally sigh in relief. Your request is simple, yet holds various meanings that maybe you're not even sure of.
On the way out, Jungkook orders for a cab through an app and informs you that he has sent a message to Jimin and Taehyung into the group, informing them that he's taking you home. Even that simple sentence makes butterflies shoot straight into your stomach and even though you're not promising yourself more than you can carry, you enjoy the feeling as long as it lasts. You're not sure what you're particularly excited about because the moment you and Jungkook get into that cab, you're not sure what happens next.
And the uncertainty makes you nervous, but Jungkook's hand in yours and the way he unconsciously holds it tight makes it all better.
By the time you're walking out of the club hand in hand, the cab is already waiting for you and as Jungkook holds the door of the cab for you, he shoots you a soft smile that makes everything uneasy go away. It's cliché but you can't believe that it works, because all you're left is that same excitement again.
As the driver makes sure Jungkook gave him the right address, he looks at you questionably because it's not like he put his address because he expects anything from this. It's because his address was added automatically and he didn't give that much thought into it when he was trying to get you through the crowd. But you give him a sheepish grin and cuddle up to him, leaning your head against his shoulder which causes Jungkook to confirm the address.
Jungkook doesn't touch you more than it's necessarily though, his hand stays respectively on your knee and doesn't go any further, while you're gripping his biceps and can't help the stupid grin you hope he doesn't see.
The ride to Jungkook's apartment building is short but feels like a big journey because by the time the driver stops in front of it, you're ready to jump out of the car the second he slows down the vehicle. Just like when you were getting into the car, Jungkook holds the door for you and helps you get out of it, thanking the driver before he shuts the door and hurries to the warmth of the building.
Following Jungkook into his apartment seems kind of funny because you've been here so often, that you'd be able to find the way while being blindfolded. Yet, you're staying a little behind him following him as if you were clueless where he's taking you.
Once Jungkook unlocks his apartment and the doors are shut with you inside, you're already taking your shoes.
"Listen--"
You don't, you're too quick and sorry that you've cut him off which hasn't been done purposely. By the time Jungkook has tried to tell you something, you've already kissed him. Realizing what you've done, you pull away with a sheepish grin and hot cheeks.
"Hm?" you ask cutely, hands innocently behind you as Jungkook's eyes darken and he's the one who pulls you closer and kisses you.
Giggling into the kiss, you realize you can taste the slightest hint of Jungkook's drink he has drunk at the club. But oddly, he tastes like him. His cologne and the flowery smell he always holds fill your nostrils more than ever, now that you're in a place that's not filled with body odors. You're hypnotized, that's how you're feeling when you tug him towards the living room with mouth still on his.
The only time you let your mouth detach is when you push him down on the couch, happy when he successfully lands onto his butt with legs spread out. He's so hot, button-up slightly crinkled from your heavy making out and your needy hands. His hair is messy as he's looking up at you from his sitting position through hooded eyes, causing you to drop to your knees right away.
His eyes widen for a moment, but you don't stare into them long enough as you're leaning towards his lips to kiss him again. No words exchanged, your needy hands unbutton a few buttons on his shirt, exposing more skin and the chest that got definitely bigger than the last time you saw him. And he's not even fully naked. He's so much broader and you're trying hard not to literally salivate.
His hands land on your hips as you start peppering kisses to his jaw, slowly down his neck and then chest. The single touch of his hands makes you almost moan out and even though the lust clouds your mind, you're not greedy for an orgasm or him making you feel good. He's already making you feel good just by being there, holding your hips – and it's silly but you can't explain it.
You reach for his belt, unbuckling it eagerly and you're surprised how easy it's going despite your quick movements. Jungkook helps you by lifting his hips off the couch, getting the jeans past his butt but once you touch the hem of his boxers, eyes too distracted by the hard bulge already poking through the thin material, Jungkook mutters your name.
It's like he finally realizes what you're about to do, what position and situation you're both in and he looks almost nervous, despite his hooded eyes filled with lust.
"I don't want you to think you're my distraction,"
Your features soften and you get out of your lusted state for a moment, hands placed over Jungkook's knees instead.
"You're not, I would never do that to you."
It hasn't even crossed your mind that he could use you as a distraction. At least not until he has just mentioned it. If he wanted a distraction, he could've gone home with anyone else. Women have been giving him a good piece (and well deserved) attention. And why Jungkook has decided to go home with you, no matter how random and quick it happened, is beyond you.
"I know," you assure him softly, straightening yourself as you once again lean towards him and gently peck his lips. "Don't think too much about this. If you don't want this, let's just stop it."
Some tiny part of you whines at that, but you know it needs to be said and you really don't want to make any mistake. You know you'll be overplaying this in your head once it ends, no matter how it ends but just for now, you want to enjoy this. It's not like you're doing this for the first time. You already know each other. You know each other's bodies and even though it's been a while, nothing has changed much. Minus Jungkook's huge body growth.
"I do want it," Jungkook admits by mumbling, "I'm just not sure if it's right or wrong."
Well, his hard dick probably wants to argue about that but you're both trying to be adults here. Some failing and some trying to be.
"It's just a blowjob, Jeon," you chuckle, pointing out and silently telling him that it doesn't have to be anymore dramatic. "So," you start, "Do you want it or not?"
He stares at you, longer than you wish him to because it suddenly starts to make you more nervous. And fuck, Jungkook imagines you with his cock in your mouth and randomly gets a flashback of that time when you sucked him off for the first time. In the very same position and room, at the beginning of your deal as Jungkook wanted to make sure it's not something you have to do just to please him. But you were so eager, similarly to what you look like now but there's something different about you. There's a boost of confidence because you've already had him in your mouth, at least that's what he guesses, and he would be an idiot to miss out the opportunity to miss the warmth of your mouth when you're on your knees, staring at him like this.
And maybe, Jungkook's mind is clouded just like yours.
"Pull me out," he says simply, your breath hitching how soft yet dominating he sounds.
Just as you gave him the green light, he left the worry somewhere else and turned into the Jungkook that can have you squeezing your thighs and make you wet by a single demand and sentence.
And you couldn't wait for it.
Eagerly and excitedly, you hook up your fingers under the hem of his boxers just like you've done before, getting even more excited at the sight of his cock again. Boxers joining his jeans pooled around his ankles, his cock springs free and slaps against his stomach right away. The sudden moment surprises you even though you were waiting for it, but you're way more excited to not only get your eyes on it but your mouth and hands too.
Impatiently, you reach for him and wrap your hand around the hard length, you admire the hard and warm flesh. Its red head is asking for attention and the little veins peeking from its soft skin makes you lick your lips once again.
And Jungkook can control himself, he finds the most fun watching you which makes him even more hard (if that's even possible), so when you squeeze him he keeps it quiet and bites into his lip instead. It feels good but it's definitely not enough to let him fully dive into the pleasure. There's a little bit of pre-cum already pooling at the tip of his cock and he knows you see it because your eyes widen in excitement, making you look cute. He can't believe he just thought of you as cute while his cock is in your hand.
There's no time for him to chuckle at his thoughts because you're already enveloping the tip into the warmth of your mouth and fuck... he swears he can see starts because you taste him for the first time in months, the time he thought would have never come. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he's trying to process what's happening right now but it's very hard, especially when you suck him off before you dive even more and start to take more of him every time.
He lets out a pleased sigh, one hand gripped in a fist while the other finds the back of your head, keeping you in place as the sucking sounds resounds from your mouth. It's wet and you drool all over his cock which makes things even more hotter, his head falling back as his mouth stays open while he enjoys your mouth on him and you between his legs.
You're careful, always coming for air whenever you feel like gagging and the rest that you can't fit (or not pressuring yourself to make it fit), is held by your hand as you squeeze him here and there. You're changing your movements, licking him up and down before you suck him, then you're bobbing your head up and down while doing the rest with your hand. And the ultimate spot for him is when you suddenly press his cock against his stomach, licking his balls as you suck on them too. Fuck, you're too good at this. Just like he remembers.
It's like you remember every little spot he has and that's when you're starting to hear soft moans and groans leaving his opened mouth. His thighs are tense, your nails digging into the skin there. His cock barely fits into your mouth but you get creative, opening your mouth as wide as you can at the cost of you drooling all over his cock down to his balls. The button-up that's slightly hiked up unfortunately hides the little trail of hair that goes down to his pubic hair and you wonder if you'll have another chance to see it some other time. This is most likely just a one time thing but you quickly throw that thought away, not wanting to think about the future and what's going to happen.
"Fuck," Jungkook groans, the thighs tensing up and hips slightly bucking up are letting you know he's close because even his grip on your hair gets tighter. Moaning around him, you feel your jaw ache from being opened for a longer time to the point it starts to get uncomfortable, but you don't care and continue sucking him off.
The wet sounds of your mouth that has never left makes Jungkook's head spin and his eyes are pinched close, suddenly remembering what a sight he's missing. So, he raises his head and pries his eyes open just to see you. But the not clearest sight of you doesn't satisfy him enough because he's mostly met with the top of your head.
"Look at me," he demands, voice rough and strained as you obey, looking up at him through your lashes which makes him let out a hitched moan. Something, you're not sure you've ever heard from him before.
"Fuck--I'm coming," he informs you hurriedly, the other hand reaching for your jaw as he cups it. "Where do you want it?"
Obviously, you're not risking answering him verbally because you'd probably rob him from a good orgasm. Fortunately, Jungkook doesn't really wait for a verbal one as he stares at you with a clenched jaw and hooded eyes.
"Your mouth?" he asks and you hum around him, a soft and muffled 'Uhm' by his cock resounds from your mouth. "You're gonna swallow like a good girl? Like you always did?"
Fuck, pleasure shoots through your entire body at his words and you eagerly hum, sucking him harder but keeping the same pace, not wanting to ruin anything.
Jungkook holds his stare as long as his body allows him to, even as he groans and the first ropes of cum shoot out of his tip straight into your mouth. You keep just the tip in, sucking on it while swallowing every drop which makes him shut his eyes and letting himself to release until the very last drop. Some of it comes out slowly after some time but you swallow everything, peppering a last kiss to his tip before you fully pull him out of your mouth and pull away from his softening cock.
He pries his eyes open, reality hitting him and he wonders if you already regret it when he sees you already standing. But then you give him a smile, just a casual smile as if you haven't had his cock inside your mouth just a few seconds ago.
"Mind if I stay over tonight?" you ask casually, leaving him speechless as he sits there, leaned against his couch with his cock still out that glistens from your saliva.
"Yeah, sure," he manages to say.
"Great!" you call out, turning around making your way towards the bathroom but not before you go into his bedroom, pulling one of his t-shirts you know very well.
Jungkook stays there until he hears the shower door close and the water dripping down, hitting the tiles and most likely (definitely) your naked body.
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bfbkg · 2 years
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PRETTY BLONDE (2.2k)
— bakugou katsuki x reader
SYNOPSIS: how will you ever get what you want if you don’t go and get it yourself?
CONTENTS: sfw but my blog isnt so watch yourself! very suggestive, tipsy female reader, lots of flirting and sexual tension :)
NOTES: hello everyone !! a lil something because i have not been able to write recently aha this is also me self manifesting to have these moments of confidence in my life. thank u all. [headers n borders made by me obvs]
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you're going to buy a pretty blonde a drink at the bar. you’ve never done before. usually it was men buying them for you, men that were never your type. but how will you ever get what you want if you don't go and get it? especially this guy. he looks grumpy like he doesn’t want to be here at all and if you get too close he might bite. exactly your type. as you flick your head back to down your shot, you quickly mumble to the bartender, pointing a finger at the blonde. 
you study the interaction. the bartender slides the drink over to the guy whose eyebrows rise in a surprised shock. you read his lips, “are you fuckin’ with me?” and the bartender steps back in fear, hands in the air and immediately pointing over at you. the blonde sets his ruby eyes on you, narrowing them like he’s looking through sniper glass. he’s trying to work you out, though ultimately he finds nothing under the dingy lights of the bar. just your wobbly but mostly confident smile.
you send him a little wave as he frowns at you, holding the drink with the tips of his fingers. you’re not sure what to make of his response, especially as he keeps his eyes on you when he brings the glass to his lips. your hand drops slowly under his gaze. you feel like you're being sucked in by him, your pupils dropping to his adam’s apple every time he swallows.
once he slams the glass down at the bar, you take that as your chance to bounce away over to your friends. you let go of the breath that was clogging your throat. everything feels so much lighter now you were meters away from him. was that the right move? he feels so… the stare was so… fuck, he’s fine.
instead of dwelling on how long it will take for him to talk to you or if it’s time for the embarrassment to settle in your veins from your first time buying a man a drink, you turn your back on him. you grab your friend's hand into the open space to dance, ignoring the feeling of wandering eyes.
after forty-five minutes of nothing, you’re blocking the interaction out of your mind, telling your friends you’re going to get another round. you’re trying to wave over the bartender when a large figure slides beside you.
holy shit. it’s him.
“why’d you buy me a drink?”
his voice is deep, deeper than you thought and you notice a little accent at the tip of his words. he smells sweet and woodsy and his bottom lip is so plump. he’s beautiful, much more now he’s in front of you. even the curious, slightly offended frown he holds has you begging for more.
but your limit for bold moves has ended and— where is this bartender for another shot?
“oh me? oh erm… i wanted to? thought you weren’t ugly, you know?” you stumble, glancing from his shiny pupils to anything but him. his presence is overwhelming, a sense of confidence you adore.
he gives a nod like he understands what you mean, leaning his back against the bar. your body burns from how close he is, his aura making your hair stand on edge. you bite down on your lip to not make an odd squeak at his attention.
“you aren’t ugly too. makes me feel like an idiot that i didn’t notice you first,” he grunts, but you’re coming to realise that’s just his tone of voice. you wonder what his laugh is like.
“don’t you think i could get a better compliment? i did grow some balls and buy you a drink. i’ve never done that before.” you speak before you can think, but you want to hear him talk more, compliment you, even kiss you.
“‘think you’re beautiful,” he replies right after, not missing a beat. he keeps staring at you, crossing his arms across his chest and your eyes automatically drop to his biceps. he notices too because he flexes and smirks, “and i appreciate being your first.”
you ignore the connotations of this comment, especially how your lower stomach warms. you shake your head, resting your elbow on the counter. “so who are you here with?” 
the man leans on his side to face you and you’re not sure where to look first. he even pulls up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal the tattooed sleeve on his left arm. you cross a leg over the other.
“those idiots in the corner. i don’t drink so fuck knows what they’re up to,” he points a thumb in the opposite direction to where you just were with your friends.
“you don’t drink? wow, buying you a drink probably wasn’t the best move,” you awkwardly laugh, but he shakes his head. 
“i’m gonna drink if a pretty girl buys me one, it’s not every day i get that happenin’. it’s just ‘cause work n’ shit,” he explains and you’re entertained by him, ignoring your drink and focusing on him.
you’re about to ask what he does for work but you’re distracted by him staring at your lips for a moment then they flick up to yours “you never gave me your name, babe.” 
you miss the end of his sentence, the booming music making it difficult. “sorry, what did you say?” you nudge closer to him, your elbow touching his forearm. he could lean in and kiss you at this point.
in fact, you think he’s about to. he leans close to your lips, your breath hitching accidentally. you don’t have enough time to feel embarrassed as he shifts to your ear. instead of raising his voice to beat the noise of the bar, he just gets closer and lower in tone. you fight a whine from leaving your lips.
“what’s your name, babe?” he basically purrs and you feel his lip brush against your ear lobe. 
he pulls away when he’s finished with a smug smile, giving you all the space in the world after being less than an inch away. he knows exactly what he’s doing and you’re not sure if you’re out of your depth with him. his eyebrows rise in expectancy. but you pout.
“you first,” you say, sitting up straighter and brushing your fingertips across his forearm. you want to get a reaction from him. you’ve only got one since you’ve given him a drink.
you’re yet to realise how malleable the man is, giving into you easily with a simple touch. the action has him tensing in a shiver, waiting to see what you’ll do next. the tension between you both is a vibrant pink cloud above your heads.
“bakugou,” he grumbles, looking from your hand to your eyes. he wasn’t lying, you were beautiful and he had no clue why you wanted to talk to a grumpy fuck like him. everything he’s been doing so far has been on a whim, hoping it wasn’t coming off creepy and was catching the vibes you were giving off.
you brush your hand up to his bicep now, lightly resting there in an attempt to feel him up. bakugou hums, though you can’t hear it over all the noise.
“bakugou?” you pronounce each syllable carefully like you’re tasting it on your tongue to test it out. he thinks you like it until you ask, “is that your last or first name?”
when you give him the shiniest puppy dog eyes, he knows that he’d give you anything you wanted for a moment of your time.
“last.”
“you don’t wanna give me your first?” your bottom lip pouts cutely and you squeeze his arm. you even step closer, two can play the proximity game, so your chest barely brushes against his.
“k-katsuki.” he wants to flick his forehead but the blink would mean he’d miss the way your face lights up with the extra information. he licks his bottom lip, “that good enough for you, princess?”
you nod with a smile so pretty that bakugou katsuki very softly presses his lower half into you. 
“nice to meet you, bakugou katsuki.”
“yeah, nice to meet you too. gimme your name.”
“oh. i liked princess though.”
“i can keep callin’ you that after.”
you nudge closer to bakugou, his crotch thick and fat against your lower stomach. you can’t hide your grin and you’re loving his smile. his canines sharp as he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. his breath barely has an alcoholic tinge to it, you can almost taste the ginger beer he was nursing moments before. he won’t drop the eye contact, even tilting his head to taunt you into telling him.
so you do. just your first name though, not your family one. 
“pretty name. suits you, y’know,” he speaks casually, despite how his heart rams against his rib cage. “but i don’t get your other name?”
you shake your head and you feel a large hand slide under your chin, his thumb rubbing against your bottom lip. you’re entranced by his ruby eyes, so similar to the jewel. “maybe another time. or back at mine, if you wanna come?”
and this is your second moment of confidence, asking him to come over to yours. taking control of your sex life and what you want.
bakugou brushes his lips over yours and you’re dying to press into his them. his hand is still at your chin as another large hand finds your waist. he holds you tightly, with purpose, that you can’t help but lean all into him. he sighs at you, a very frustrated sigh.
“i can’t, princess,”
what? you try to pull out his arms but it doesn’t show since he holds you so tight, “oh my god this is so embarrassing—,”
“mhm? no, no, i want to, you can fuckin’ feel i want to fuck you.” and it’s true, you want to hook a leg around his waist and pull him into you but there are people all around. annoying.
“then why not?” you practically cry but bakugou doesn’t give you space to feel embarrassed, thumb rubbing across your lip comfortingly. your eyes flutter closed momentarily.
“you’re drunk, baby and i’m not even tipsy. once you're sober you might not even want my ass,” he laughs slightly at the end but it only makes you want to kiss him, press your lips onto his and rub your tongue against his.
“no, not true, the last part! i’m only a little tipsy and i’ll still want you. you’re so pretty, katsuki.” you pinch your fingers together to show how tipsy you were but you both know that’s a slight lie.
“i can drop you home though? stuff my number in your bra so you can call me in the mornin’?”
“you just wanna feel my tits,” you grin, “you can put your number in my phone like a normal person.”
katsuki can’t fight his smile, boyishly shrugging, “i can do that also.”
“only if you let me kiss you,” you reply, reaching up on your tiptoes. 
he’s not taking advantage of a pretty drunk girl is he? especially if you’re asking to kiss him? it won’t go any further, he’ll take her home right after like a gentleman. anyone would be a fool if they didn’t give you what you wanted… just a little peck.
katsuki nods, “just a lil one baby. i’ll give you a better one when you can remember it.”
your arms sneak around bakugou’s neck, “well you’ll remember this, gonna be begging me to call you back,” you mumble before pressing your lips right onto his plush ones. the kiss is nothing like the pressing sexual tension between you both. it’s innocent, sweet, something similar to a girlfriend kissing their boyfriend goodbye. bakugou’s into it, desperately, so as soon as he goes to lick your bottom lip for you to open your mouth you pull away.
bakugou growls loudly and you laugh as you stuff your hand down his jean pocket. he’s confused for a moment, delirious from the kiss that he even lifts his arm for easier access. “what’re you lookin’ for?”
in yet another moment of confidence, you pull out his phone, shining the device back at him for his face to unlock it. once it does, you jump a little in your spot, typing away on the green phone app. he watches you do it effortlessly, then how you lock his phone and slide it back into his pocket.
“call me when you want more, bakugou katsuki.” you tap his chest lightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
you’re about to walk away, find your friends again but he yanks you back into him, “‘m gonna call you tomorrow, alright? sure you don’t want me to bring you home?”
you shake your head, “i’ll be waiting for your call. not too early though, i like to sleep in.”
he releases your hand reluctantly, “see you soon princess.”
“bye katsuki,” you smile and he keeps his eyes on the top of your head until you’re back sitting with your friends. he smirks when he sees you recite what just happened back to them. catching your lips saying something along the lines of, “pretty blonde.” you look almost shy amongst your friends with a hint of pride. there’s slaps on your back to congratulate you as you all gravitate back to the dance floor.
bakugou takes that as his cue to find his people, but not before scrolling through his contacts to find what you saved yourself as. 
‘your princess’
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