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hoshigray · 3 months

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𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Going on a date with the guy who broke your heart is something you’d never thought would happen – especially on Valentine’s Day! But it’s just for him to be in your good graces again, nothing more…Yeah, go ahead and tell yourself that.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining + confessions - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - going on a date - sex in a public space; hotel room - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (sucking and swiping) - missionary position - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up + Gojo doesn't shoot inside) - pet names (baby, cutie pretty, princess, sweetie) - angst + fluff - cameos: Shoko, Mei Mei, Utahime, Geto, Nanami - mentions of tears and spit - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (going out with a bang, jfc)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: final part to this short yet fun story !! tysm for the love you've given this series, it was a random idea that came to me last year and I'm so glad I was able to put more thought into it. all y'all's comments and rbs have been entertaining to read thru, love the support and engagement this story sparked with you, and I thank you sm for sticking around ccc: also!!! ty for 5.9k loveliessss mwah mwah~

and lol, yes, the title is based on the laufey song, hehe~

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“Sorry, Satoru, Y/n doesn’t wanna see you right now — like, at all.”

“Oh, Gojo. Sorry, Y/n’s in no mood to talk to you right now. Said you better not make so much as a step past this door. Because if you do, I’ll have to charge your savings.”

“Hmph, you got some nerve, Gojo! Didn’t you hear from Mei Mei earlier? Y/n doesn't wanna talk to you…What the hell did you do this time?”

You could hear your roommates telling off the person showing up at the front door from your door. Before, they’d come to you and ask if you wish to give this person an audience for your presence. Yet you say the same thing: you’re not ready to converse with them. You’ll probably never want to talk with them again.

It’s been like this for the past week. Ever since the little fiasco between you and Gojo — not to mention you slapping him across the face for his upsetting words — things between the two of you have been quiet as promised. The very last words you ever told him were to never speak to you again after publicly humiliating yourself by crying in front of him.

Outside of being the talk in everyone’s mouth (I mean, who wouldn’t gossip about one person slapping another after walking into them saying some mean shit about the other), you’ve been worried about by your friends ever since the incident. Your direct senior roommate, Utahime, was the first one to see you crying to yourself after coming home from classes and immediately called up Gojo to rip him a new one for making her junior roomie cry. Shoko was the passive one who listened to both sides yet still put your emotional state above anything else, telling Gojo white lies that you weren’t in your dorm room whenever he’d try to visit. And Mei Mei walked with you to your classes throughout the week in case the tall figure tried looking for you.

But it didn’t stop there. After that day, your Contemporary Issues course with Professor Naga was sheer awkwardness. The silent tension between you and Gojo was so thick that it effortlessly suffocated your peers and made it hard to concentrate — especially for the professor and your friends, Ijichi and Haibara. Outside of the class, you did your part in avoiding Gojo, and the same applies to the lectures you shared with him. No words, no greeting – not even a mere glance – were shared in his direction. It was as if your life mission was to avoid him at all costs.

However, this is Satoru Gojo we’re talking about. Although he respected your no-talking rule in the premise of lectures, he’d still try to get your attention once class was over. And even then, you’d bolt to the door to not give him the chance. He’d follow right behind you and have to maintain a respectable distance when Mei Mei was the light lavender eyes behind your back.

But what the hell did he expect? What he said hurt you to your core, so there was no way you’d want to speak with him again. He deserved that slap! The sting you inflicted on his face for a few minutes was nothing compared to the torment of your heart that’s been aching for a long while now. You can’t even look at Gojo after what had transpired. The pain he caused has been with you for a while, yet it still felt new and fresh to reflect on.

And yet…your mind still can’t help but agonize you even more. Do you think it was easy to not engage with Gojo this entire time? Oh, it was the worst, both for your soul and mind. The memories of his smile and dimples would come up every often, pooling you deeper into your dread. The routine of him speaking to you with whispers when it was just the two of you — like he didn’t want others to find you in the comfort of each other’s presence — like it was sacred. And the way he said your name. It toyed with your heart whenever you’d reminisce it.

“Y/n!”

Especially after how much has changed in your relationship with him, you really thought things between you and him were going for the better. Or, to be honest, becoming something a lot closer and personal. Something you grew to want with him as the days’ encounters and nightly calls went by.

“Y/n...”

But you were wrong, lecturing yourself for being so dumb and naive for wanting such a thing. Amid the fun, you had forgotten what you two were and believed that you could change from that. Change with him. And yet here you are, broken-hearted, barely concentrating on your Word document on your laptop.

“Hey, Y/n,” your brow twitched with the snap of reality, Utahime opening the door after knocking. “It’s the front door again; it’s—“

“GRRRAAAHHHHHHHHH!!”

You were never one to shout within your apartment — Utahime’s eyes widened at the sudden shout of vexation. You stood up from your desk and walked past her, marching through the hallway. Mei Mei peeks from her shared room, and Shoko pours coffee in the kitchen. All three of your roommates observe you stomping to the door.

You swung the apartment door open with vigor, “I SWEAR TO CHRIST, GOJO, WHAT PART OF ‘DON’T EVER TALK TO ME’ DO YOU NOT UNDERST—…Geto?”

“Oh, hey there, Y/n. I was worried about you.” You were surprised to open the door and not find the unusual silver hair you expected. Instead, it was Suguru Geto, Gojo’s dark-haired direct roommate, rubbing his cold hands together that weren’t covered with his black windbreaker. Next to him was Kento Nanami, standing silently in his sand-colored trench coat.

“Hey, guys,” knowing they aren’t who you thought it would be, your shoulders relaxed with your tone. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Geto sighs heavily before telling anything. “We wouldn’t be here for a reason. And, after hearing what happened between you and you-know-who, I think you can guess why we're here, too.”

And then it hits — the realization of how these two’s abrupt appearance came to be. “…He asked you two to come and talk to me for him.”

The two roommates look at each other for a second, and then Geto points behind him with his thumb to the stairwell door. You follow his finger, seeing the person you’re talking about watching you from the door window. You try not to contort your face into an ugly, exasperated expression in front of the other boys. So, you settle for a sigh to alleviate the stress growing inside you.

“Ugh. What is it.” You ask Geto with an attitude that wasn’t easily sheathed.

“Honestly, all I know is that he really – like, really – wants to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to him. So there,” you shake your head and backtrack past the threshold of your door. “Sorry you two came here for no reason, but I can’t—“

“—Wait!” Geto cuts you off and brings a hand on the door to stop you from closing it. You caught the intervention, widening the door again. Geto explains himself. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you—well, no, sorry. I get that Satoru said some things that hurt you last week. Believe me: I already lectured him hell and back for it when Shoko told me you came home crying, and you have every right to be mad at him right now…But—“

“Did he tell you what he said to me?”

“H—No, he didn’t,” your brow quirked at that response. He didn’t? “All he told me when I confronted him was that he messed up real bad and crossed a line.”

“A line?” You enunciated after him. “That’s cute...Geto, he won’t tell you what he said because I caught him saying those things. That scumbag,” you averted your gaze to the door window, seeing Gojo gulp at your fierce eyes. “—knows what he said. And he knows that I told him I want nothing to do with him for that.”

Nanami was quiet throughout the entire thing, so it took you aback when he spoke. “And I’m on your side in that regard. You’re right, he is a scumbag; tactless, crude, borderline annoying—“

“Just borderline?” Geto points the word out to lighten the mood.

“And the type of person to get on someone’s nerves purposely. And with that, I don’t blame you for cutting him off. If anything, it’s what he deserves, if not more.”

You knew there was more to say beyond that. “And yet…"

“And yet,” Nanami picks it up. “…I’d be lying if I said that guy doesn’t know when he’s at fault. He can be prideful and childishly playful — albeit disrespectful to anyone he thinks doesn’t deserve it. However, he’s not emotionless, and if he is disrespectful to his friends, he knows when he’s in the wrong.“

“And take it from me, Y/n.” Geto comes in with the assist now that things are a bit calm. “Fucking asshat will take days to apologize to me for something stupid, and that’s if he feels like giving me one. But even if he doesn’t, I know he cares about me like any best friend…Like he cares about you.”

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, so you close them and shake your head. “He doesn’t care—“

“Yes, he does.” Nanami doesn’t let you finish that sentence. “Like I said: Gojo is many things, but he’s not an emotionless moron. Because I can tell that whatever he said distraught you to your core and made him feel bad about it — pathetically so.”

“…How do you know?” You don’t know why you asked that question; why the fuck should you care? The fucker in question is the one that broke your heart behind your back, so why bother?

“Because when he came home that day, Geto pulled him by the shirt, threw him against the wall, and yelled at him like no tomorrow. And he just stood there, letting Geto give him his rightful lashing. He even told him he didn’t deserve you as a friend, which I agreed with. But then Gojo said something after that…”

Again, this isn’t something you should be caring about. So why are you turning to Geto to ask, “…What did he say?”

“He said I was right, that he definitely didn’t deserve you.” Before the raven-haired boy answered, he exhaled through his nostrils. “And that what he said about you was, by far, the dumbest thing he’s ever done, which is saying a lot.”

“A whole lot.” The blond-haired boy jumped in. “Y/n, don’t take this as me vouching for him. But, if you could have seen the look on his face when he said that,” he nods when you shake your head ‘no’ again. “You would feel the guilt and shame pouring from him. It was pathetic to look at — pathetic for him to express. But it was real.”

And you know it’s the truth — not because it came from Nanami, but because you could picture the scene as if you were there. You could just imagine Gojo’s face, a dangerous move as your heart skipped with a twinge. You imagine the emotions he was expressing, your skin crawling thinking about his blue eyes – usually filled with life and light – appearing so broken and devoid of animation.

“He does care about you — there’s no mistake about it. You two have been friends since freshmen year; he’d be an idiot to let those years go down the drain because of him. And that’s why we went along with coming here in his stead and asking you to talk to him.” You open your mouth, but Geto isn’t finished. “Please, Y/n. You’re the mature one, but you don’t have to act strong on this one. I can only assume, of course, but I’m sure you want this handled, too.”

He wasn’t wrong, yet at the same time, you couldn’t shake the heavy feeling that was weighing you down.

“I…I don’t want to speak with him.” The two guys didn’t change their facial expressions. “Not now, at least...I don’t want to see his face right now.”

“Then how about a phone call later tonight?” Nanami proposed. “You two can talk it out with each other after you guys think about what to say to each other. You can even have the call while we’re sleeping so you can have privacy.”

“Ehhh, but I’m nosy.” Geto teases his sophomore roommate, making the younger blonde huff.

“Not tonight, you are. Plus, you got a project to present tomorrow, so you need sleep.”

“Fair, fair…But seriously, Y/n, you should talk with him. If not for him, then for us, for Shoko, Utahime, Mei Mei, all of us. We don’t want you upset about what this idiot did this time. So, one talk should be okay, right?”

It should be okay. Keyword: should. However, the anxiety that you harbor within your limbs tells you otherwise. The pool in your stomach churning into a state you find uncomfortable to fight against.

But concurrently, you couldn’t lie to yourself; a piece was missing in all of this. The resolution was needed — there had to be a way to see the entire picture in this matter. Otherwise, you’d be walking around campus mad at the person behind a door examining your reactions for the entire semester — no, the whole next year! You knew you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that. You can barely go through it right now. So, might as well get this off the table before it worsens…At least, that’s what you say to rationalize.

“…Okay,” you straightened your posture. “The girls have morning classes tomorrow. Tell him to call me at midnight.”

Your answer sealed the deal, the two males dismissing themselves before you closed the apartment door. Your roommates peered around the corner once they heard the door lock, coming to ask if you were all right. You molded a faux smile and said you were fine, and yet you couldn’t tell if that was a lie to them or yourself.

From there, the time felt so long to witness and experience throughout the day, watching one hour pass after the other. The sun had never settled under the horizon so slowly before, taking its time to draw the curtains of darkness over the Earth. And yet the time went fast simultaneously — the minutes spooked you every time you looked at the clock.

Was this the universe’s way of toying with you for agreeing to talk to Satoru Gojo? It had to be. Your stomach doing somersaults didn’t help either; you could barely get through eating dinner because the dreaded talk bound to happen in a few hours was all your mind could think about.

And then, when everyone was fast asleep ten minutes before midnight, your nerves couldn’t settle down. Five minutes before, you decided to take yourself and the phone to the bathroom (because the fan would be loud enough to tune out your conversation), needing the tiny space to yourself to pace back and forth and not to disturb Utahime snoring away. One minute before, you were sitting on top of the toilet, watching the seconds go by on your phone, praying that he wouldn’t call on the dot. He wouldn’t buzz you at the immediate stroke of twelve, right? He had to be doing something — anything else — hoping he’d spare you another minute if he could.

BZZZR!! BZZZR!!

However, that wasn’t the case. He called you right on the dot, and your heart jumped at the vibration from your phone. His display name was titled ‘do not answer this jerk,’ a change you made the day after the incident. Yet here you are, in the bathroom, and your thumb shaking over the green button.

It wasn’t until the sixth vibration that you pressed the button with a sharp inhale, bringing the phone to your ear with haste. The silence was in the air for a couple of seconds, worsening your anxiousness. Until—

“…Hey.” He was the first to say something, thank God.

“Hi…..Where are you?”

“Outside my apartment, sitting on the stairwell...You?”

“In the bathroom.”

“You sitting on the toilet?”

You know what he was doing, making the conversation easier before getting to the hard stuff. Nonetheless, you admit it was working while your nervous state gradually deteriorated. “…And what if I am?”

“Then I’d say….Heh, actually, no. I can’t make that joke right now. Not when we’re like this.”

“Mmm, like this…” You hummed, the awkward tension filling the silence once again. “….Look, Gojo—“

“Before you say anything,” he cut you off, but you allowed it. “I have a lot I wanna say to you, and I want to get them out the way before I forget and never get the chance to say them to you…Can I say them?”

Your brows scrunched together, your free hand drawing reassuring circles on your thigh, and your teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “…Go ahead.”

“Okay…So, first off,” you held your breath to brace yourself. “What I said about you on that day — I’m not gonna sit here and say I didn’t mean those things when I said them because I did. But NOT in the way you’re thinking.”

“Then what way did you mean them, Gojo?”

“I meant them in the implication that I was trying to protect what you and I had.” Had? “Our relationship was being questioned, some girl was asking about us and…I know you weren’t ready to have our business out in the world yet, so I thought….I just said what was believable with how everyone sees us since we’re always butting heads and shit. So, I said and meant those things to protect us in the heat of the moment. And then…I guess I got carried away.”

“You guess you got carried away?” You repeated, your anxiousness now substituting for subtle anger. “…Just a little person angry at the world around them? So exhausting to deal with someone so boring and uncute as me?”

“Holy fuck, you remember it all—“

“Of course I did!” How could you not!? “And then — hmph, now this one I’ll never forget — ‘I’ve seen prettier, been with better, I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them’…” Your emotions were a mix of offense and pain, irritation and misery. Despite that, your voice maintained a calm tone, even if you wanted to do nothing but yell at the screen. Yet that wouldn’t solve this. “Gojo, the fact that I know all of that, verbatim, and have refused to talk, think, touch, or even look at you since them…To say you got carried away is just…like, holy fuck. Who the hell were you?”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, but you couldn’t blame him. Being hit with his own words like that, any moral human being would stop and let that shit simmer into their skin.

“…I’m sorry,” you wanted to call bullshit so bad, but not after he followed up with this. “Really. I’m so…so fucking sorry, Y/n. I know that shit wasn’t cool, and, to be honest, I expected more than one slap for that. I only meant it to save you the burden of gossip; believe me when I say that.”

“I—ahem…” Nope, you were not going to do this. Not tonight. “I want to believe you, Gojo. But I just…I can’t; it hurts my head thinking about it.”

“I know…I did that to you, and I’m so fucking sorry. My foot was too far up my mouth when I said all that, just one useless thing after another….And you know what’s crazy? I think my conscience knew me spouting shit wasn’t the right call. I mean, I literally walked with you to the class that day; what kind of friend does that and say shit like that afterward? And when I saw you….the way you looked so…distant? Just like that, everything that we had was just gone. I couldn’t see it — I saw absolutely nothing when I saw you. That scared me, seeing the happiness and the smile you had minutes ago just vanish with the flip of a switch. And I fucking did that. I knew at that moment that I lost you…..Y/n…? Are you crying?”

You immediately moved the phone away from your ear, covering your mouth with the arm of your sweatshirt. The cries you tried to suppress poured out at that moment, and the pain that scratched your insides left your system with every sob and intake of breath. The tears damped the material, soaking them in as they rolled down your cheeks.

As ways to start the eve of your Monday, crying with the person who broke your heart on the phone was not one you expected to be one of them. It all hurt: the rapid emotions, the memories of that day replaying in your head, the genuine sincerity expressed in his voice. It was all too fucking much, your face heating up to a concerning level that you’d think you’d blow up.

You give yourself a few seconds before bringing the phone to your ear, “….What else?”

“Huh?”

“You said—sniff—that you had other things you wanted to say to me.” A change of subject was necessary, not wanting him to notice the broken crack of your voice. “So, what else?”

The request took him aback, but he knew better than to question or fight you. “…Second of all, I wanna say – since I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance to tell them to you in person – I want you to know that you’re more than what I said. There’s nothing 'kinda' pretty about you — you’re pretty all over. I’m not saying that to butter you up; it’s something I’ve said to myself all this time…Who am I kidding, saying I’ve been with prettier and better when I hurt the most beautiful and kindest one my eyes ever laid on….? Boring and uncute? Heh, you’re anything but. Sure, I say you're uncute when you nag at me to no end, but I don’t think there’s been a single day that I’ve thought you were a sore for my eyes. You’re too gorgeous for that.”

“Gojo—“

“I don’t deserve you as a friend, Y/n.” Your breath hitched. “Honest. I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now. And yet, you gracing me with time to spare shows that I really don’t have the right to have you close to me…I’m sorry.”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he was honest about his apology. You felt it in your bones; your gut told you what Gojo told you was true. Your anger was nowhere to be found, but your guard was still up.

You slowly exhale through your mouth before taking your turn in the conversation. “So…Is that all?”

“….”

“…Gojo?”

“….”

“Gojo? Are you still—“

“I like you.”

Okay, you lied; your guard wasn't up for that.

There’s no way he just said that. There’s no way those three exact words left his mouth and entered your eardrums. They kept ringing throughout your head, bouncing off the walls of your cranium with each repeated syllable. Your eyes widened by the second, your body coming to a complete standstill. And yet, the only thing that was moving and showed signs of life was your heartbeat increasing with the silence.

He likes you. The Gojo Satoru — your frenemy, annoying peer, and friend who enjoys your yelling and nagging — likes you.

“You…You what?” You heard him perfectly, but you wanted to confirm this wasn’t some joke.

“I like you.” He didn’t hesitate to replicate. “I do, I really do. I’ve liked you for….quite a long while, way before we started having sex together.”

“How long ago is that?”

“I think since the spring semester of freshman year when we had started to get a little closer before you became friends with Geto...Yeah, for a while now.”

“…Why?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you like me?

You heard him sigh out a large breath before answering. “…To be honest, I just like how you…are you. Like, you’re not scared to be yourself around me. Many people I’ve known try to kiss my ass for me to call them a friend, and even then, those guys are assholes…But you, I don’t see that — I never saw that. You’d never kiss my ass; you’d always be down to tell me when I’m wrong or right. Being around you was different from other people; I felt comfortable around you like you were one of my friends.”

You didn’t intervene, listening to every word he was to say.

“Not to mention…Heh, you’re so cute. Like, actually. And pretty, and independent, and bright. I can’t count how many times I’ve been lost in my thoughts about you. Especially recently, you’re all that I can think about. I like how it feels to hold your hand, and your fingers look small against mine. I could never get enough of you talking to you; it’s one of the things I look forward to. And, holy fuck, the way you smile. I swear, you could kill me with that face of yours. And your eyes — I’m always told mine are so beautiful to look at, yet I find that impossible whenever I get stuck when you look at me….Y/n? Are you—You’re not crying, are you?”

You said in sniffles. “You’re such a fucking asshole, Gojo…”

“Huh!? Why??”

“You break my heart one day and then say all these things the next…Are you trying to tell me that stunt you pulled is that dumb thing where people say stupid shit about someone else because they like them?”

“Hey, I told you why I said them! Besides, those two bimbos were getting in our personal life, and we didn’t have anything to call our relationship, so…!”

“Sniff—And you! Why didn’t you tell me you liked me for so long instead of annoying me to no end?”

“I could’ve done that, but…I don’t know. I guess our relationship was easier the way we had it. Things were less complicated for you. Plus, you’re cute when you’re angry at me.”You had to scoff at that. Of course, he’d say something like that. He can be such a prick sometimes. “I was okay with how things were, being all naggy and arguing with you while secretly close to you. I didn’t want to change something we were used to into something more.”

“Mmm.” You could only hum to that sentence, letting his words sink in before saying anything. “…Would it have been a bad thing if it was something more?”

He didn’t answer immediately, indicating that he took the question in serious thought. “No…I wouldn’t have minded. But that decision was all yours to make.”

“Gojo,” The words you were about to say were about to be so nerve-wracking that you had to take in a deep breath. Chewing on your lips while exhaling through an open mouth. “….Would it be a bad thing if I said….that I liked you, too? And that…I still like you—”

KA-BANG-BANG!!

You jumped at the sudden sound coming from the other side of the line, as it was not the response you were expecting, and you could hear him saying curses further from the phone. After a few brief seconds, Gojo’s voice comes back.

“Fuck, sorry, sorry! I just dropped my phone on the stairs!” He sounded so worried, as if he lost you. “You.…You like me?”

“Yeah, I do…” Gosh, you didn’t think this would happen, the heat on your cheeks expanding to your ears and neck. “I really do. And I’m also willing to forgive you. BUT, you have to prove your worth by redeeming—“

“I WILL!” Again, it wasn’t the reaction you were expecting! He replied with such momentous excitement that you could imagine the sparkle in his blue eyes. “I will, I promise! In fact, I have an idea; how about I take you out on a date?”

Huh!? “A date??”

“Yeah, on Valentine’s Day, this Wednesday! I know this great place not too far from here, or maybe you wanna go to a small café to wind down from classes? You can pick—”

“Wait, wait! We have classes that day; we have our night class with Professor Yaga—“

“We could skip—“

“Hell. No.” You shut him down with quickness. “We’re going over some serious discussions that day for our papers on Friday; we’re just gonna have to do the date after class.”

“Pfft, God, you can be such a geek sometimes.”

For the first time that night, you rolled your eyes. “Says the Digimon-fanatic talking to me right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He snickers at the phone, and your heart swoons at it. It felt like you hadn’t heard that laugh in ages. “So…Is that a yes?”

It had you thinking for a temporary moment; talking with Gojo again just felt so…familiar. It was something you’d been missing for the past week, accepting that you’d never experience it again. And here he is, inviting you on a date? This was, by all means, a weird night. An apology, a confession, and now being asked out?

Regardless, you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to be by his side again. And with a chance like this, why brush it off? “Yes, I accept your date.”

“Then it’s a Valentine’s date. Cool.”

“Cool.” You awkwardly repeated after him, becoming squeamish with the brief silence. “Okay, well, now that we talked. I need to get some sleep.”

“Mmm, okay. Go get your sleep, then. Be sure to think of me in your dreams~”

Your head is shaken again, this time with a smile. “Whatever. I’ll try…Think of me too, Satoru.”

“I always do, Y/n.” Jesus, the way he gently and affectionately said your name. Is this what it’s like to admit you like someone? “Good night.”

“Good night…Oh, wait! You said you had a joke earlier.”

“Hmm…Oh, yeah?”

“Well, now that we’re kinda on good terms…What was the joke?”

“Oh! I was gonna say it’s kinda a shame that you’re sitting on a toilet and not on my face.”

“Goodbye, Gojo.”

“PFFFT, No, wait, I’m so—“

CLICK!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

As far as dates go about, this is one that Satoru Gojo was the most nervous about.

As promised, after your class with Professor Naga ended, Gojo waited for you with his car on Main Street by your dormitory. He was already dressed for the date, adorned with a black turtleneck and jeans that matched his Chesterfield coat. But you had a few things you wanted to touch up on before going out for the night, so he texted back that he’d wait for you outside.

What he didn’t expect was being instantly shot down by you once you came down and walked to his car. Because holy fucking shit, you looked so fucking beautiful. If this was a “touch-up,” all the people he went on dates on must’ve not been trying.

You were wearing a black halter long-sleeve top; your collarbone and shoulders were out for his eyes to trace and breathe to hitch. Your arms were shielded by a hoodie that looked a bit big for you but did its job of protecting you from the cold winds. And black thigh socks that contrasted with the plaid skirt and the puffy boots. And…did you put on lipgloss on? Holy shit.

“So,” you’d say meekly to catch his attention since he’s examining your every feature. “I’m ready…” They were simple words, yet they had the power to have him stop leaning on the car and grab the door for you. You were chewing on your lip, avoiding his gaze that watched every step you took. “You’re staring, Satoru…”

“Hmm? Oh! Sorry...” He’d close your door and mutter, scratching his neck where the heat from his ears crawled around.

And from there, the date began. The plan? He wanted to take you to some fancy restaurant, but you politely declined and told him you’d settle for dinner and a movie. And you two did just that, going to this burger joint that was popping off when you entered. You two sat at a booth by a window, enjoying your food and conversing about each other’s day.

“You did not have to do that.” You said in giggles, bringing a fry to your mouth.

“I did, too!” Gojo replied after taking a big bite from his burger. “The fucker almost tried to dirty my basketball shoes; do you know how much those shits cost? Expensive as hell.”

“Yeah, but to push your buddy to an ice bath because he almost dirtied your shoes?” You shook your head with a smile. “And all shoes are expensive these days, Satoru.”

“Yeah, well, mine were custom-made. So,” he takes another bite. “Serves him right.”

Gojo didn’t notice it himself, but you saw a bit of ketchup on the corner of his mouth. Tending to your friend’s obliviousness, you grab a napkin and stretch to him. At first, he thought you were giving it to him to wipe it off himself; nope. You did it for him, tenderly dabbing the condiment off his lip.

And you didn’t even notice what you were doing until your eyes met his, instantly pulling your hand back. “Sorry! You just…had something on there…”

“Mmm, thank you…” he said it low, but you heard him. What you couldn’t hear, thank God, was the beat of his heart going at an unsteady rate. It took a minute for you two to shuffle uncomfortably for the conversation to flow back.

After the dinner was the movie, a random action movie that you two felt interested to see. And it wasn’t that bad of a film; the plot was pretty subpar, the acting mediocre, but overall, a good movie.

However, Gojo couldn’t focus on the movie for lengthy periods because his eyes would usually drift to the right of him where you sat, surveying how engrossed you were watching the film that you didn’t notice him. God, even in the dark, you looked so gorgeous and cute.

Sometimes, he’d glance at your armchair and look at your hand, the inner dialogue between himself on whether he should go for it and place his hand on top of yours. But he doesn’t do it. He wants to, but he can’t, not like this. It was killing him so much; the feeling of wanting to touch you and have you against him again was haunting him — they’ve been haunting him for the past few days now.

“Fuck…” he’d mutter under his breath, but you wouldn’t hear because of the sound of explosions coming from the theater speakers. He wanted you but didn’t want to mess this date up. He couldn’t afford to screw this chance with you, he just couldn’t.

Once the movie was over, he’d walk with you to the parking lot where the car was parked. The chill winds of February crawl up on your bodies, and you bundle up into your warm hoodie. “Did you enjoy the movie?”

He hummed with a tilted head. “Meh, I’ve seen better. It wasn’t too bad. What about you; you liked it?”

You looked up to ponder and shrugged, swaying side-to-side as Gojo leaned on his car. “Yeah, it was okay. There’s better stuff out there.”

“You just saying that to agree with me?”

“No, maybe you’re reading my mind and copying my answers.” You give a tiny smug look, only for him to smile along.

He then asks, “So…did I do good with this?” He can’t lie; how you lifted your brow instead of giving an immediate answer made him a little nervous. And with the tilt of your head and turning your body fully towards him, you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. You hand him your verdict:

“I think so. You treated me to good food, didn’t try to poison me, and got a free movie ticket out of it.” You jokingly punch his chest. “Yeah, I liked this date, Gojo. Consider yourself redeemed.”

He snickers lightly, “Good, I don’t think I can take another day of you being mad at me.” That made you giggle; good. Things go quiet for a while, and he averts his stare downward. His eyes land on your hand, the thoughts from the movie theater teetering back to his head. Goddamn it, he really wants to touch you—

“I can see you staring through those glasses, Gojo.” And just like that, you propelled your hand to link with his, making the tall boy flinch. “Your subtlety is wearing thin.”

Your teasing tone evokes a chuckle disguised in a sigh from Gojo, his fingers slithering to intertwine with yours. “What makes you think so?”

You peer up to him. Fuck, your eyes were so beautiful. “You were practically staring daggers at me while watching the movie. Am I on your mind that much?”

“Yes.” You expected a different answer – something more playful – and it’s why you couldn’t breathe after he brought his face closer to yours. “Infintely.”

Suddenly, the cold air didn’t bother you anymore. The heat on your face blossoms across your cheeks and ears while maintaining eye contact. “Am I on your mind right now?” He nods, your noses barely brushing each other. You whisper to him, “What are you thinking about?”

“I wanna kiss you.” He closes his eyes; you can see from his shades. “I want to hold you like I did before.” The hand clutching yours gets firmer. “I want you…Just you.”

The way he has with words effortlessly pulls you in, his voice comforting to the point you allow him to put his other hand around your waist. You faintly reply before connecting your lips with his. “I want you too…Satoru.”

When he pecks your lips, a feeling you two feared was wiped off the Earth returns to warm your bodies. Your hands instantly go around his neck like usual, sighing through your nostrils as you permit to sink into his hold and kiss.

Gojo uses this to bring his hand behind your neck to keep you on him, the kiss becoming more passionate by the second. He licks on your bottom lip, a sign of wanting entry. So, you open and lick him back before he takes the initiative to put his tongue inside your mouth. And you moan into his lips — fuck, how he missed the sounds you’d make for him. It felt like forever since the last time he heard them.

This moment brings the spark between you two back, the sounds of the world around you drawing out from your space. All that mattered was you being in his embrace and him having you with him like this again. It all felt right — being with each other — with nothing bothering this peace meant for you two.

So much so that Gojo took it upon himself to convince you to stay with him tonight at a nice hotel close by, where you two couldn’t get off each other the moment you closed the door to your room. Hot kisses are exchanged as you two remove each other’s clothing, Gojo undoing your bra and lifting you to place on top of the bed.

His lips never leave yours, even when his hands play with your chest. Your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer as he rocks into you. Your core down south experiences throbs that entail you want him, your horniness dialing up with every grind of his groin.

He breaks the kiss to playfully bite your lip so he can hear you yelp for him, placing his lips from your chin down to your neck. You say in shaky breaths, “Hahhh, Satoru, please touch me more…”

He lifts his lips from your clavicle, “Of course, princess; you know I always got you.” He then licks from your collarbone down to one of your nipples in a tantalizingly slow fashion, your body squirming from anticipating what he’s about to do. His tongue finds its way to swirl around the bud, having your hum to the wet touch. And when he decides to suck it into his mouth when it’s hardened, you gasp.

But it doesn’t stop there, one hand tweezing the other nipple as he licks around the one in his mouth. The free one snakes down your abdomen to your skirt, lifting the material for his digits to meet the damp spot of your panties.

You jerk at the feeling of him moving the material to the side, rubbing his bare fingers on your precious, wet cunt and clit. “Ahhnn! Satoru, Satoru—Mmmm…” He rubs around on your folds in circles before adding his forefinger smoothly inside, his slender digit efficiently rubbing your vaginal walls have you holding back whimpers.

When he thinks you’re ready enough, he adds his middle finger inside. Both his digits scrape and graze around your inner walls, provoking silent screams to leave your lips. Your fingers find his hair to tug, which only has him suck on your breast more.

“Hooohhh, mmmmh…Right there, right thereee…please—Ohooo…!” You moan to him, your thighs jerking with every scratch of his fingers in your chasm.

“Mmm…you close, pretty?” Gojo releases your nipple for a quick second, returning it inside his warm mouth after he sees you nod hurriedly. “Hold tight, okay? Lemme get you ready, sweetie…”

You cry at the increase in speed, the nails of his fingers scraping the velvety tender spots inside you. Your body jerks to him as your hands find his shoulders to pinch on. Gojo lets go of your bud once again to move his lips down south, spreading your legs to take a look at your mess.

“Holy shit,” he says with a bitten lip before he crouches down to kiss your clit after slipping your panties off. “I fucking missed this pretty thing so fucking much.” He licks your soapy folds up to your clit, drowning the delicate button with feverish laps of the tongue. It has you screaming his name, and he loved that so fucking much.

Gojo stuffs his face to your slit, drinking your essence while teasing the clit with fast swipes. Your wails get louder and louder, and he doesn’t make it any easier when he keeps your legs spread for him to continue his work. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, I’m—“Ahhahnn!!”

That’s when you come onto his face, your cunt spasming with electric pulses and your legs shaking with every hit of your orgasm. And he keeps on sucking and licking your fluids; you’d think he’s sucking the life out of you. But you can’t blame him; the boy is starved for you.

He soon withdraws his face from between your legs when you’re done with wailing and crying, licking his lips and leaving off the bed to take out a condom, throwing his jeans and drawls to the floor. But then something is wrong, and you can see it when Gojo presses his lips into a thin line before climbing back to the bed and maneuvers on top of you. He aligns the glans of his cock to the entrance of your vagina, and it’s there that you notice he doesn’t have the rubber on.

“I…I forgot to bring a condom, sweetie.” He says to you in a tune that harbors slight worry, and you can tell from his azure eyes that he’s a little nervous about this step. You held back a giggle; for once, he looked adorable when worried about something.

“…How good is your pull-out game?” You ask, half-jokingly.

His white brows trench together. “Are you sure?”

You nod and kiss him on the cheek. “I trust you, Satoru, so just be careful, okay?”

He blinks at you, taken aback by your lack of resistance. Yet, at the same time, he knew you needed this just as much as he did. So, with that in mind, he pushes the glans into you, observing your breathing to gauge how much to propel inside. The tip of his length then bullies itself inside you, a sharp gasp coming from your sweet lips while Gojo moans at the raw feeling of you around him.

“—Hnnn! H–Hooooly fuck,” with every inch he pushes inside of you, the sensation of your pussy chills him up his spine. The rubber had been shielding this away from him, every dent and smooth tissue of you wrapping around him. Oh, fuck, this was a dangerous game to play. “Oh, shiiit, you feel so fucking good..”

You could agree with that notion, experiencing his naked girth inside you for the very first time. You could feel his veins graze against your walls, the curve scraping your spots tenderly. “Ohhhh, fuck, you too, ‘toru…Oh my God…”

Even starting with slow thrusts was a hard card to pull, the subtraction of the condom making this feel so new and fresh — a scary dance to do with two young lovers. He pulls his cock slowly til halfway up the tip and then rushes it back inside to your wetness. Your pretty purrs fly out with every movement.

Gojo takes this time to look at you with your disheveled figure sprawled out for him to see and pick at like eye candy. Watery eyes batting up at him with pleasure behind half-lidded orbs, your chest that he loves so much out for him to give a nipple another tweak, and your legs curling around him as his tempo increases. You’re so fucking beautiful, and he’s so lucky to be able to have you under him again. He wouldn’t want it any other way — he wants to belong to you and you with him. It’s a dream he’d kill to have with you.

“Y/n…” he says your name in a shaky breath, groaning at your slit clamping onto him so suddenly. “Can I…Be your boyfriend?”

You didn’t have enough time to react appropriately because Gojo hammers his cock into you with no warning. You scream out for him to stop, to wait a minute so you can give an adequate response! But no, he ruts into you like his hips have a mind of their own, forcing you to cling onto him for dear life as the curve of his length jabs you in places that have you rolling your eyes to the stars.

“—Ahahhnn!! Ahhh! W-Wait, Satoruuuu!!” Your words slur out with a hot breath, drool coming down your mouth with no control. “You want me….Mmnph! To be your—“

“Yes! Oh, fuck…yes!” He says with no hesitation, slamming his pelvis down to your pussy so fast that his balls smack on your taint. Oh, fuck, this felt way too damn good! “I wanna be yours, and I want you to be mine—Hooooh….No one else’s…!”

“Nnahh…!! Ohhh, my God, fuuuuck…!” Your heart beats eighty miles per hour, your whole body endures heat shared with Gojo, and your thoughts travel too fast to keep up. He wants to be my boyfriend? He wants to be my boyfriend! “…R–Really?”

“Yeah, really, really.” He smiles breathlessly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let’s be a couple, yeah? I want you so bad; you drive me so fucking crazy—Hannhh!! Shit, shit… I don’t want to hide this anymore — to hurt my cutie anymore. Let’s make this official so I can be with you without worries.” He snaps his hips harshly, grinding his pelvis with the flex of his abs, provoking more horny howls to seep from your puffy lips. He lowers to whisper to your ear while a hand clings to yours on the side. “Whatcha say, princess, hmm? Let’s be together….Hmmm…!”

Holy fuck, this is not a confession you were expecting while having your insides churned out, with your crush between your legs, in the middle of a hotel room, on Valentine’s Day. Your mind was getting foggy enough from the hot commotion in your inner thighs — now your head was filling up with fantasies of being with Gojo as a couple! This was beyond bizarre, something out of a fucking movie!

And yet, you couldn’t find any reason to say no! There’s no denying it — those feelings Gojo had for you were the same as you had for him. You feel so happy being around him, in his hold, whispering and expressing his vulnerable side to you, and you’d want to throw all that away? Hell no!

“—Mmm, yessss,” you can’t help but shed a little tear at him, to which he readily dries away with a thumb. “Yesss, Satoru, I wanna be yoursss — please…take care of me!”

Gojo slams his lips onto yours, your mewls taken by hungry lips while his strokes go at a rapid tempo. You almost choke on his spit from the way your clit catches abrupt hits from his pelvis, and the tip of his dick pokes your fragile spots with precision.

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! You felt it; it’s coming. You felt it in your bones, the shivers crawling up your spine as you inhaled to prepare. “Maahhh! ‘Toruuu, I’m gonna cumm…! Quick, pull out—Oooooo!!”

Thank God you gave him a warning. The tall other was too lost in the feeling that he was just about to come inside you! He removes his body off of yours to swiftly pull his member out, using his hand to finish the job for him, although he already misses the warmth of your cunt.

He comes at the same time as you, his load shooting out from his urethra and spilling onto his hand. White fluids slide between his fingers as he continues to stroke himself off while your legs twitch and your slit contracts and flutters on nothing, letting the wave of your climax pass on through with every howl.

The air of the hotel room cools your bodies after disconnecting your sexes off each other, and huffs and pants from heaving figures are evidence of you two trying to find your balance in the world. Sky-blue eyes lock in with yours, and he laughs in faint puffs.

He crawls his way back between your legs after wiping his hand, placing kisses up your neck and chin. “Hahhh, fuck, that felt way too good.”

“Mhmm,” you hum with him, letting him place his head in the crook of your neck.

“Hey,” he traces a finger along your collarbone. “Wanna skip classes tomorrow?”

Your eyebrows draw upward. “One day of Valentine’s isn’t enough?”

“Nope~. Plus, I wanna make up a week’s worth of not being around you.”

“Pfft, sure,” you stifled a laugh. “But you need a single day to do all that?”

He lifts his head with a grin. “Well, we don’t have enough clothes to stay here until Saturday.” He maneuvers himself to lie on his side. “Why? You doubt I can do it?”

“You’re free to prove me wrong,” you give him a sneer. “I suggest you start getting to work.” You didn’t expect your words to flip a switch, causing the snow-haired other to grab you by the legs to him. He restrains your hands above your head, and you can’t fight the giggles from his playful manner.

“With pleasure,” he claims your lips again, your sweet murmurs entering his ears.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Psst, oh my God, do you see that?”

“Holy shit, this can’t be real!”

“Woah…Am I in the right universe?”

“Satoru, I told you people would stare…hurry and let go of my hand—“

“Nope! I like where your hand is right now~.”

It was like this the entire day. Ever since your Valentine’s Day date with Gojo, things instantly returned to where they were supposed to be and more! It was amazing how one day could make the bitterness of the weeks prior dissipate with the February wind. There was nothing to be scorned about —nothing to be scared of — everything felt clear to you and the person you were holding hands with.

After that date successfully went well — and won your heart in more ways than one, you’ll admit — you and Gojo decided it was time to unveil the status of your relationship. No more secrets, no more hiding feelings for each other; you two were officially a couple, both in private and outward!

Spending two days alone together felt like a dream, being so close to each other without worrying about being seen and critiqued in the eyes of others. But now, back on campus grounds, you can’t go back on your promise and have to walk with your cheeks and ears burning as Gojo’s fingers tighten the grasp around yours.

Of course, the change of pace was a complete shock to the students and staff on this Friday. The number of perplexed gazes and starstruck figures who stopped to look at the two of you was too many to count — hell, you even saw Professor Gakunaji’s eyes widen for the first time! It was all so embarrassing, being the talk on everyone’s mind after keeping a low profile for so long. And here you are, holding hands with the star basketball player, the guy everyone knew assumed you couldn’t stand being within arm’s length with, and now, the boy you want to spend the rest of your college life with, Satoru Gojo.

Who, by the way, is loving every single second of this — of course he is, the fucking cheeky bastard! You don’t think you’ve seen his smile and dimples never leave his face for the entire day. He was stuck to you like glue, walking you to your classes and immediately returning to your side after his lectures ended like a happy puppy. He knew you were a little overwhelmed with it all, but that wasn’t a problem because he’d happily make sure you didn’t think you were the only one going through with this. Plus, you just looked so fucking cute looking all bashful around him now that he expresses his love for you publicly. I mean, the way you were in shock after he kissed you on the cheek after walking you to your second class of the day with Utahime? Oh, he wished he had a picture! Especially with your roommate’s jaw dropped to the floor (which never closed throughout the remainder of class as she just stared at you) after seeing the startling, romantic interaction.

And now, here you two go, walking out from your last class of the day with Professor Yaga — who was caught off guard when you two walked in together with a lovey-dovey (mostly on Gojo’s part) atmosphere but gave you a small smile as you walked to your seats (which were changed because Gojo pleaded you sat next to him from now on) as Haibara and Ijichi exchanged cheeky glances at the observation.

You two were walking down to the dining hall, where you planned to have dinner with Shoko and Geto and tell the two best friends of Satoru Gojo of your intimate relationship. But gosh, everything was going too fast! “Hey, Satoru—“

“Yeeeess~?” He says in a sing-song tune, too pleased with himself as he swings your hand to and fro with his.

“Do we really have to do this today? Why not eat with Shoko and Geto tomorrow—“

“Huuuh!!? But I’m taking you out tomorrow!” You want to hide your face when passersby hear your boyfriend’s reaction, immediately swapping gossip when they’re out of your vision. “Besides, they’ll be hella busy studying tomorrow at the library, so today was the best option.”

You nod aimlessly. Ughhh, this is just too much. I feel like my head is gonna implode. Then, you felt Gojo grip your palm tighter and put your walk to a stop, prompting you to look up at him again.

“Hey,” he says with his signature smile, his dimples becoming more prominent now that you’re gazing up at him. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? I got you, and you got me, right?” And he brings you in for a tight hug that has you squeaking and your lips quivering from hearing people gasp at the display of affection. “And now that I finally have you to myself — officially! — don’t think for a second that you can ever get rid of me!”

On the one side, you really want this fool to let go of you so everyone can stop staring and you can get this dinner over with! And yet, on the other side, your heart was beating in such a tune that had you melt into his embrace, and the smell of his cologne made you hum to his chest. You can’t seem to fight the smile growing on your face and your hands coming around to hug the white-haired, lovestruck fool back. “You’re too silly, Satoru…”

“Uhh, are we interrupting something?”

With haste, you and Gojo break the hug to see the owner of that familiar voice. To your surprise, it was Shoko greeting you two with a smile. Next to her was Geto, also harboring a sly smile on his face before you.

You cough to clear your throat away from Gojo, who sneaks his hand on your shoulder to keep you close. “H–Hi Shoko, Geto! I see you guys beat us to the dining hall.“

“Yeah, we were wondering if you two would make it. But now,” Shoko’s brown eyes venture from the figures of Gojo and you being close together, “I can see that you two wanted a bit of time to yourselves.”

“Uhhh, oh, you know; we just wanted to walk together since we had our last class for today!” You try to move your shoulder away from Gojo, but his grasp gets firmer and firmer.

Geto laughs, “Oh, no need to act so shy on us, Y/n! It’s good to know that you two are back to being close and cool now. Especially now that you two are a couple.”

“Ohhh, c’mon now, we’re not—“ you stopped, your body going rigid, and everything suddenly fell silent. “Wait….You knew?”

Geto hums as confirmation. “Yeah? Gojo told me.”

Your face forms into confusion. Gojo?

“Me?” Silver brows hang up at the statement. “I never said anything.”

Shoko makes a slightly bewildered expression. “What are you talking about? Remember that photo that you sent to Geto on Wednesday, and—“

“Woah, woah, woah.” Gojo’s fingers tense on your shoulder. Oh, he knows he’s in trouble. You can tell as he silently removes his hand while you question his best friends. “What picture?”

“Uhhh, the one he sent when you two were out for Valentine’s?” When we WHAT!? “Hold on, lemme pull it up from our messages…Yeah, this one.”

The moment Geto brings out his phone and gives it to you, Gojo felt his heart dropped to his ass. Not that you could tell, but the aura of fear was enough to be picked up. What showed on the screen not only had your jaw drop to your feet, but the cutesy feelings you had a minute ago with Gojo faded. Instead, it was replaced with the growing irritation that had your fingers tremble.

Geto’s phone screen displays a message and an attachment from Gojo on the night of your date. Judging by the time, it happened when you assumed you two were sleeping. The attachment proves your point, showing your sleeping face peacefully on Gojo’s bare chest. And the man in question is shown groggily awake, holding his phone to take the picture while his lips are planted on your forehead. The message below the photo answers Geto’s question, “Yo, you two made up already?” To which the taller figure says, “Yeah, kissed and made up. :3”

“Gojoooo….”

Before you do or say anything, your shaky hands return the phone to its owner, which Geto takes silently while backing three steps away with Shoko.

“SATORUUUU!!!”

You yell out his name without a care for the people around you who immediately look at you. You turn to where he’s supposed to be — supposedly by your side. But you’re not surprised to see that he’s gone, turning your heel to find that the snowy-headed figure was backing up with his hands up.

“H–Hey now, Y/n,” He says nervously. He better be nervous because your eyes showcased a wrath he wasn’t ready for. “Calm down for me, okay, princess?”

“You…Are so…FucKING DEAD!!!”

And it was there that you chased him down, running around the halls. Geto and Shoko watch with baffled expressions before they scoff with laughter. The same goes with the other students who witness the commotion, enjoying the familiar banter between you two.

It’s weird to say that you and Gojo are officially a couple now, at least to the public eye. However, no one seems to be in denial of it or push it aside. If anything, they seem happy for you two, finally coming around to express each other’s love for one another in a better way than insults and shouts.

And your friends can say the same, enjoying the change of ambiance whenever you two are in the same space. No more trying to ignore the rambles and arguments between you two, no more tired eyes rolling around their sockets when you call each other names. Because they know those will happen anyway; nonetheless, it’s now in a better light that the banner of young love is finally open and hanged.

It’s a love that you and Gojo can finally express, be free, and be happy with.

“COME BACK HERE, SATORU GOJO!!”

“NO, YOU’RE JUST GONNA HIT ME!!”

And you two wouldn’t want it any other way.

4K notes · View notes

arachine · 8 months

Text

yes, i'm ready (to fall in love)

── ˚₊✩‧₊ genre: smut, fluff, mild angst

── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis: after reader is persuaded into putting herself back out there by long time friend, shoko, she successfully ends up scoring a date. unbeknownst to her, though, the gods have different plans—and one of them seems especially interested in her relationship with ex-husband, gojo satoru.

or in other words: a failed date results in a night of passion amongst former lovers.

── ˚₊✩‧₊ contents: 13.5k words, ex-husband!gojo + co-parent!gojo, slight dub-con (alcohol use), dumbification, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, unconventional form of contraception (pull-out method - don’t do this), pussy eating + one oc for the sake of plot

── ˚₊✩‧₊ note: i know this is really long and most people don’t have the attention span for it but PLEASE give it a chance! this is literally the longest piece of fiction i’ve ever written and i’m really proud of it :(

songs to listen to for best reading experience: donny hathaway - i love you more than you’ll ever know barbara mason - i’m ready partynextdoor - showing you bryson tiller - been that way

After you divorced your ex-husband, and decided to devote all of your time to being a mother, you never really considered getting back into the dating world. Not that you didn’t eventually want to settle down with someone new, but the dating world now was just so–different.

Different in the sense that meeting people organically was becoming increasingly difficult. It wasn’t like how it used to be in high school or college, and it really didn’t take that much effort then to get a man’s number by the end of your outing.

When you were in your early twenties, a brush of your hand on a man’s arm would’ve worked. An ‘accidental’ bump into someone at a grocery store or cafe might’ve ended in a quick lay. Using these tactics today, though, might earn you some weird looks–have–earned you some weird looks.

You’re on call with a friend from college when you begin recounting something embarrassing that happened to you recently. At first, the conversation started out about all of the professors you would’ve slept with (if given the chance), but then, one thing led to another, and she asked you something that made you wince:

“‘How’s your dating life been since, you know, Satoru?’”

There’s a heavy silence from your end, and she almost thinks you hung up.

“I mean, if you want to share,” she splurts, attempting to approach this gently, “I know that after the divorce, I wasn’t there for you like you needed, but I’d like to make up for that–if you’d let me.”

Shoko’s always been like that. Blunt and charismatic, but gentle and zephyr-light in the way she cares for those closest to her. It’s a trait of hers that you admire, because not so many people would care to treat your heart with such fragility.

“No, it’s okay. You can ask, you know, it’s not this secret thing,” you start, sighing before continuing, “it happened, and it was a mutual decision.”

Shoko hums on the other side, “Well, I’m still sorry. I let us go without talking for far too long…”

“Well, I accept your apology, even if it’s unwarranted. Like I said, it was mutual and…there wasn’t really an intense grieving period for me? The only thing that hurt me is that you distanced yourself. I mean, the girls did miss their aunt Shoko…” you say, trying to make her feel bad but not too bad.

“I know, I know, I’m a bad aunt,” she jests, then the tone shifts to something serious. “I think I was just scared because both of you were my best-friends. I didn’t want to ‘pick sides’, but I see now that it was a mutual decision, so I’m assuming you two are on good-terms?”

Again, you pause, “I mean, yeah. Satoru will always be my best friend. We may not be together romantically but he’s such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t do this–all of this–alone.” After you say it, you feel a weight being lifted off of your chest that you didn’t know was even there.

You think nobody would understand if you told them this. You think they’d question how a person could divorce someone who’s supposed to be their best-friend. And with the way you describe it, they’d probably think you were still in love with him. But Shoko’s different, she gets it. Which is why saying it to her came so easily.

“He is a great father,” she chimes in, “but you two rushed into it so quickly, I don’t think either of you had time to discover yourselves after college.”

Although she can’t see it, you smile. Because she gets it. Even if time did place itself in between the two of you, she was there for most of it, when things were still touch-and-go. When things were fresh, and clumsy.

“Exactly, that was our biggest gripe,” you admit, “We didn’t afford ourselves that time to grow, and I think that hindered our relationship. We weren’t husband and wife first, we were parents–and we were young, way too young.”

“You made it, though,” Shoko tries to brighten the mood, “you’re both amazing parents, and I know those beautiful girls that you created are lucky to have you.”

The intimacy of the conversation sends your emotions into overdrive. You quickly realize how much you missed her, how much you yearned to talk to her. To reconnect on this level.

A single tear cascades down your cheek, and you try not to sound like you’re crying when you say, “Ok, enough about that. You wanted to know about my shitty dating life, right?”

It happened last week, the grocery store incident. You were out picking up a few things for dinner when you spotted a cute guy standing outside of the aisle a few rows from you. He was fit beyond measure, in looks and strength, and was wandering around aimlessly in pursuit of red pepper flakes.

Coincidentally, you just happened to be in the seasoning aisle, and like the good samaritan you were, decided to personally hand-deliver it to him.

You wince as you vividly recall the embarrassing ordeal that ensued immediately after.

“Hey,” you peer from behind the aisle, with a bottle of red pepper flakes in tow. “I heard you mumbling about finding this, and you looked pretty lost, so I thought I’d pick ‘em out for you.”

The man’s brows furrow briefly before his lips up-turn into a grateful smile, “Oh, cool, thank you so much!” As quickly as the conversation started, it ends even quicker. He gives you a final nod of endearment before he’s turning around on his heels to resume his shopping.

“God, could he be any more dense? The men today really make you work for it, huh?” you mumble to yourself, pulling the bosom of your blouse down until a good amount of cleavage is on display. “Okay, alright. You got this, you got this. This always used to work, right? Yeah, men love boobs.”

Walking up to the man again, you try a different approach–a bolder approach. “Not to be a bother but I was wondering if I could-”

“Babe? Oh, there you are,” a new voice interjects. The owner of the voice emerges from around the corner and walks up to the man with a cart and a baby in tow. You’re stunned, to say the least. All you can do is stand there and blink in complete and utter dumbfoundment. As you remain in their presence, you take a moment to analyze the woman. She’s gorgeous, and toned. A real model-type broad, with feline-ish features that make so much sense paired with the man who appears to be her partner.

Oh, you think, and apparently say aloud, too. That’s when the woman turns to you, finally acknowledging your much smaller, and much quieter presence.

“Hi, can we help you?” she smiles, and it’s actually genuine. Toothy and perfect, and totally not jealous. You blink once, twice, before gathering your wits to answer her question.

“Yeah, uh, no. I actually, uhm, was helping your h-husband. He was looking for red pepper flakes,” you mutter embarrassedly, and point to the bottle in his hand. Upon further observation, you notice that she isn’t exactly wearing a ring. You find this odd, especially because his not wearing a ring is what encouraged you to pursue him. Carefully, you prod.

“If I may ask, how come neither of you are wearing rings?” The couple gives each other a look, one that makes you feel like the odd man out. A look that is universally known, and without a doubt, could easily be translated to: ‘did this chick really just ask that?’

Still, you smile as you wait for an answer. The woman takes the initiative. “Yeah, we don’t really believe in rings, isn’t that right, babe?” she says so matter-of-factly. You blink again for what seems like the thousandth time, because of all things, you did not expect that to come out of her mouth. Her husband is quick to validate her statement.

“Yeah, we think rings are unnecessary, you know? You don’t need a piece of metal to confirm your feelings,” he says walking to his partner’s side and wrapping an arm around her.

Disgustingly, the two give each other googly eyes before locking lips briefly. You can tell they’re the type to probably share this information with just about any soul who asks. Today, you just happened to be that unfortunate soul.

“Are you married?” she queries, tilting her head against her husband’s chest.

“I was, now we just…co-parent,” you purse your lips, ready for this entire interaction to be over. The woman frowns at your answer, and this time it’s not as genuine.

“Awe, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was actually a mutual decision,” you quip.

“Okay,” she smiles, widening her eyes at her husband to signal a departure, “well, it was nice meeting you, and thank you for the red pepper flakes.”

The family turns away and heads to the front where check-out is. You don’t even buy the items you intended to purchase, just leave your cart in the middle of whatever aisle you abandoned it and leave the store.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t?” Shoko asks in horror. You nod your head, still forgetting she can’t see you and the way you’re sliding down against the wall.

“I did, and I shan't ever again,” a laugh erupts from your throat.

“I mean, fuck, are we getting old? ‘Don’t believe in rings,’” she mumbles, “Don’t believe in rings, my ass! Is this what the youth are doing these days? Not proposing with rings?”

Now that you think about it, you wonder how that would even work. “Yeah, right? I mean, how does that even work? ‘Will you marry me? But, actually, you should know I don’t have a ring for you, so people will have to guess that we’re together purely based on vibes and energy,’” you mock, in a not-so-great man voice.

Shoko’s laughing so hard by the end of your bit that she breaks the sound barrier, and the sound that makes on the phone sends you into your own fit of laughter. You laugh so hard it seems like a stream of pee comes out. Curse your developed incontinence after motherhood.

“God, you’re so stupid, I can’t breathe,” she says exasperatedly, and you know that on the other side she’s probably keeling over in her bed.

“Oh, please. I bet you haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, bitch.”

“I haven’t,” she cackles. This back-and-forth continues until the two of you settle down enough to continue discussing your (pee-inducing) love life.

“You tried any dating apps?”

It’s a simple and valid question, but it only makes you laugh even harder. You only stop when the other side of the line goes quiet. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. It’s what everyone’s doing these days! You’re not that old, you know.”

“Shut up,” you kid, “ it’s just that I never considered it. I mean, dating apps feel so impersonal. How serious do people even take it?”

“Sure, there’s people who use it for casual hook-ups and stuff, but a lot of people do come out of it with a relationship. Just don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”

“Oh?” you muse, curious. You wish Shoko could see your face, and the weird little dance your brows were doing. “Shoko, have you used a dating app before?”

The brunette kisses her teeth. “Can’t get anything past you.”

“Never.”

There’s a sense of hesitance but you encourage her to elaborate because ‘she became estranged from you for almost a decade and needed to pay her dues’. Sighing defeatedly, she eventually acquiesces.

“Fine, fine, maybe I’ve…been on a few dates,” she starts, “–and had a few one night stands, maybe more than a few, and maybe even dated a guy that turned into my stalker–”

“Ieiri Shoko! You naughty, naughty girl! Wait, stalker?”

“To make a long story short, I got a restraining order on that creep. Anyway,” she segues, attempting to change the subject, “We should make you a profile!”

For the rest of your phone call, Shoko guides you through all of the dating app basics. She offers her expert advice as you scroll through your camera roll for potential photos to use. You go through about a hundred before you finally settle on five that she really likes.

The one that she tells you to put first is a photo of you in a bikini. It’s a few years old but she says you look ‘radiant’ and that your ‘tits were practically spilling out of the cups’. Plus, for further consolation, she says most people on dating apps are liars.

“Everyone’s got at least one old photo on their profile, doesn’t make you a catfish,” she quips, “just means you’re a nostalgic person!”

“Right…”

The next one is a selfie. You’re smiling big in it, showing your gums, and it’s genuine. Shoko says guys like those types of photos because it shows them that you’re approachable. It also won her over because it’s fairly recent, too.

Out of all your photos, there’s only a select few that were taken within the year. You had to admit to her that you never really took photos of yourself anymore. Satoru took most of your candids. Still, she had a mission. And she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she stuck around to see your first match.

“After the selfie you should put the one of you with the girls.”

The picture she’s referring to is one Satoru also took. You remember that day fondly, and even now, the memories feel like a warm embrace.

about 8 years ago . . .

“Dad, mom, look! Hurry!” Hana, your oldest, shouts. Satoru and you are sitting on a blanket up on the sand dunes with Haruki, who’s trying her best to make a sand castle–to no avail.

“What is it, hon?” Satoru and you rush over to her, snatching toddler Haruki in the same breath. When you get to the scene, a flood of warmth washes over you upon discovering the ‘threat’.

“See, it’s baby turtles!” Hana’s squatting in the sand, watching with pure and unfettered fascination as the hatchlings crawl north to the ocean. When she looks up at you, with eyes so bright, and a smile so big that’s missing two of her front teeth, you want to cry.

“Oh, hon, that’s beautiful,” you gasp, lowering to your haunches so that you can join her. Satoru is about to follow suit before deciding at the last minute to go back to the blanket. When he returns, he snaps a picture unbeknownst to you. Eventually, though, you turn your gaze to him and he captures–what he used to think then–the ‘prettiest’ photo of you.

“You sneaking photos of me?” you squint, pointing at him. He trods closer until he’s standing above you. Then he snaps another. Your head’s tilted up, and you’ve got one eye open, and the other closed because of the sun. He always liked when you squinted like that because it made your nose do this cute little scrunch.

“Yup, ‘cause you’re my muse.”

You’re pulled out of your daydream when Shoko says your name on the other line.

“You still there?”

“Yeah, it’s just…”

“Just what?” she queries, waiting for a response.

“I wanna use it, but my ex-husband took it. It feels weird, you know? And do I want to use a photo of me with the girls?”

“Hon, who cares if Satoru took the photo? It’s still a good photo, and to answer your second question, why wouldn’t you include a picture with your girls?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just afraid no one will be interested. Nothing about a picture of a mom with her two daughters exactly screams ‘fuck me’.”

Shoko lets out a small chuckle but you’re being serious. “Oh, sweetie. You’re so cute. Milfs are in these days, I don’t think I’m the one getting old, I think it’s just you!”

“Ha-ha, laugh at the mom,” you feign annoyance, but give her a laugh in return.

“But seriously, please use that photo. Nobody’s going to skip you just because you’re a mom. A lot of men on there have kids of their own, just gotta tweak your settings,” Shoko reassures you.

By the end of your call, the profile is set. You thank your old friend for the previous heart-to-heart conversation, and the time she spent helping you set up your profile.

“Keep me updated, and don’t talk about mom stuff, okay? Now, I’m not saying you can’t talk about them,” she begins, “but show these guys your personality! I know she’s in the closet somewhere hiding next to our old slutty clubbing clothes.”

Then, the both of you say your goodbyes and she wishes you a good-luck on your newly established dating journey. As you lay in your bed, you give your profile a final onceover. Not too bad, you think to yourself.

You ended up using all of the photos she had originally picked out for you. Even the beach photo. To compensate for your old photos, though, Shoko made sure that your prompts were witty and full of personality.

“I’d match me, I think. No, yeah, these are funny. She did a good job.”

The following day, you open your phone to fifty notifications from the dating app. A tingle of excitement shoots through your body from the tip of your toes, to the top of your head. It takes all of your might not to squeal in the office.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper at your desk. The amount of notifications that you initially saw on your homescreen read ‘50’ but when you opened the app, it showed you an overwhelming ‘100’ with a fat plus sign next to it. “Wait, are these all the people who liked me? Shoko’s gonna flip.”

Getting up from your chair, you make a beeline to the nearest bathroom. Not that you have to use it, but so you can scroll through all the potential prospects without your boss seeing you on your phone.

Pulling open the door to the bathroom, you close it shut behind you and lock it. A few minutes pass in the time you’re able to get through about half of the people who liked you. You end up skipping a lot of them. They’re either too young, too self-absorbed, creepy, or just downright not your type.

Some stick out, though. Even trick you into thinking they’re potential matches, but then the other shoe drops–because there’s always another shoe. You’ll scroll through their profiles, and they’ll seemingly have all the perfect traits: intelligent, witty, handsome, tall–and then, boom. You see their ‘don’t want kids’ preference. Every failed match only discourages you more and more.

It’s weird, because your profile preferences are set to ‘have kids’ and you even have a photo pictured with your girls. So why are men liking your profile despite that? After a few more scrolls, you’re just about ready to head back to your desk but then–you have a hit.

Your finger hovers over the ‘x’ at the bottom of the screen, then retracts. The guy’s profile at first impression is miles better than the rest, it’s almost too good to be true. His first photo is what piqued your interest. It’s of him posing for a silly photo with his sons, and he’s got his arms draped around their shoulders.

As you scroll down his profile, you see that there’s even more of him with his children. You take this as a green flag. He wants people to know he has kids, and that he isn’t embarrassed to show them off. You admire him for it.

The last few remaining photos are an amalgamation of selfies and full-body photos. To the average, well-adjusted adult, looks wouldn’t be a deal breaker. But he definitely wasn’t too bad on the eyes, and you were not complaining about that–especially, after the odd men you had to scroll through to get here. In other words, he was gorgeous and still fit despite being older than you (him, respectively being in his early forties).

Checking the time on your phone, you realize that you’re pushing your little ‘bathroom break’. Before heading back to your desk, you decide to respond to his first photo.

You: Cute! Could never get my girls to stand so still for a photo like this now haha :)

Work goes by slower than you’d like, but finishes up just in time when you get a notification from the dating app. You’re a little more excited than you’d care to admit. Tidying up your workspace, you say your goodbyes to your colleagues and head to the elevator. Absent-mindedly, you rush to answer his message but realize it won’t go through because of the elevator’s poor service.

Kazuki: Oh, they’re moody and grown now, don’t be fooled. I can't remember the last time I saw my youngest smile.

You don’t answer his reply until you get home. Actually, you do just about everything but answer his reply: check on the girls, shower, prepare dinner, pour a glass of wine–you’re nervous, and you don’t know why. But you know you should probably answer soon before he becomes disinterested. So you get comfortable in bed with your glass of wine and pull open his chat.

You: Lol, know that all too well. Kids are little assholes, aren’t they?

The speed in which he reads your text is startling, you don’t even have enough time to close out of the chat. Then, he responds.

Kazuki: Hell yeah they are!

Kazuki: Sometimes I want to strangle my youngest. He’s at that age where he’s starting to rebel and question everything. I told him he was supposed to be the ‘easy’ one, but his knucklehead brothers are bad influences on him…Tell me, does it ever get easier?

You: Sounds a lot like my oldest. She used to cling to me like a koala but now she’s the ring leader, and I’m the enemy. My youngest still loves her mama, though (for now lol).

You: And to answer your question, I’d like to think so?

You take a second before continuing your response. Shoko told you to keep the mom talk limited, but this seems to be working for you so far, and he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. So for once, you’re going to ignore her advice.

You: Kids go through phases. It's our job to reassure them that we’re not going anywhere. No matter how much they push us away or try to, that is :)

Kazuki’s chat bubbles pop up, then disappear. You think he’s deciding on what to say.

Kazuki: I can tell we’re gonna get along great. It’s nice opening up like this, you know? Talking to another parent. If I'm being honest, dating apps have always intimidated me…

Kazuki: People see kids as ‘baggage’, and it really bothers me. My kids aren’t baggage. They’re the best parts of me. And if someone doesn’t see that, then we have no business getting to know each other.

Kazuki: Sorry for getting all sappy. Just felt like I needed to say it.

His apology makes you frown. It feels like a breath of fresh air to hear someone talk about their kids so lovingly, because you feel the exact same way. You’re glad you downloaded the app, and you make a mental note to thank Shoko again later (after you debrief her about this).

You: Never apologize for speaking about your kids! And if we’re being absolutely transparent, that was my biggest gripe with downloading this app, too.

You: I’m so glad we matched each other. I’d like to get to know you more. And I’m hoping the feeling’s mutual?

Kazuki: It’s more than mutual.

Kazuki: Don’t want to get ahead of myself but how do you feel about dinner? There’s a cool high-scale restaurant in the city that I haven’t been to yet. Heard it’s got two Michelin stars despite opening up not too long ago.

The prospect of going on a sit-down dinner date has your stomach in knots. It’s been a hot minute since the last time you’ve done so, but you’re eager to know the man behind the screen on a more personal level. Plus, being treated to a high-scale restaurant with two Michelin stars doesn’t seem too bad either. You’re never one to turn down free dinner.

You: I’d love to, but how soon we talkin’? Gotta see if it’ll align with my schedule.

Kazuki: How’s this Friday at 8 sound? :)

The days leading up to Friday breeze by in a blur. For the majority of the week, it feels like you’re walking on cloud nine. Eventually, the conversation transitions from the dating app to exchanging phone numbers, and since then, the two of you have been texting back-and-forth everyday.

You talk about mundane things. Work, shows, movies, books you’ve recently read, what your kids are up to–but the other things? The other messages are flirty, and sexy, and filled with so much tension that it could cut a rope in half.

In between messages, the two of you have also exchanged a few photos. Nothing risqué or anything of that nature, just random photos of you throughout the day. The last one he sent was a few hours ago of him at work, captioned with: ‘Could this meeting be any longer?’.

You reply to the message with the ‘ha ha’ reaction, in consideration of not wanting to get him in trouble at work (even if he was the one who initiated the conversation). As the days go by, though, you make it a habit to update Shoko every step of the way.

Her first reaction to hearing about him was enthusiastic. That is, until you showed her screenshots from his profile. You vaguely remember her saying something that was meant as a compliment, but came out more like an insult.

“‘Oh, he’s a dad!” was her initial response, “oh, he’s a dad…and he really loves his kids. You’re meant for each other.’”

When you tried to ask her what she meant by that, she changed the subject. Every update since then has earned slightly more positive reactions, though.

Today, you ask her for more advice. Only this time, you’re on video call.

“Shokoooo,” you drawl, “our date is tomorrow! You have to help me find something to wear.” The panic in your voice is so palpable, she can almost feel your shaky hands through the screen. Flipping the camera, you hurriedly pan your phone around the closet.

“Breathe, girl, breathe,” she demonstrates first, before telling you to repeat the same motions. “Take me to that section over there–no, not that one–wait, yep, there.” You amble over to the area she’s directing you to through the phone.

“What’s that black little number right there?” She points. You prop the phone up on a shelf and scour through the section, tugging out a dress you haven’t seen in ages (which has you questioning how she even spotted it because it was pretty far back into the closet). Walking back into frame, you hold the fabric up to your body.

Shoko nods in approval, “That’s the one, babe. Try it on!”

It’d been about a decade since the last time you wore this dress. It’d also been about a decade since you were ever this small. Looking in the mirror, you run your hands over every surface inch, every crevice of the dress, in a newfound sense of appreciation for the adult weight you’ve gained since becoming a mother.

The dress was always stunning but it hugged everything perfectly even more so now. When you walk back into frame, your friend gives you a look of pure adoration. She’s so enthralled that she snaps a few screenshots for keepsaking.

“Thank god it’s Satoru’s turn to get the kids tonight,” she says, “‘cause you’re definitely getting some tonight.”

You roll your eyes, reminding her she’s on speaker phone. “Oh, please. It’s just dinner!”

“Not in that dress,” she retorts, wagging her finger in the camera. While the two of you continue to chat about the details of tonight, a knock on your bedroom door draws your attention.

“Mom, can I come in?” the voice sounds. It’s Haruki.

“Come in, hon!”

After you give the ok, you turn to Shoko and mouth to her to behave. Haruki turns the knob and enters, closing the door behind her. She sees you standing in front of the mirror before you see her, and silently utters a ‘wow’. You’re just about done putting your earrings in when you join her in the other room.

“What do you think, bun? Does your mom look hot?” you spin around, smoothing your hands down the length of the dress. You wait in anticipation for her approval, because if anyone could tell it like it is, it was always going to be a kid. Your Haruki was no exception.

“You look really pretty, Mom. I’m glad you’re going out tonight, I mean, you don’t really have friends so I think this will be good for you,” she elaborates, though you wish she would’ve stopped at the compliment.

Still, it puts a smile on your face to hear her verbalize that she’s okay with you doing something for yourself. You never quite discussed the prospect of getting back out there with your kids–and not even intentionally. It just never felt like the right time.

“You could’ve stopped at the compliment, punk!” you grab her, then wrap her in your arms, “but thank you. Love you, bun.”

“Love you more, mama.” Neither of you make the effort to pull away. Instead, you both stand there. Hugging, breathing, embracing each other’s warmth. You don’t always get hugs this good, so when you do, you savor it. Drag it out until your arms and legs get all tingly.

Or until someone interrupts. Another knock on the door. This time it’s Hana.

“Ew, what’s going on?” Hana feigns a look of disgust. You know she’s just jealous; she’ll never admit it, though. Which is why sometimes you have to force her to participate.

“Get over here,” you scrunch your nose, forcefully pulling her into your tight embrace. She tries to protest but eventually accepts defeat. You squeeze them both until they whine that they can’t breathe anymore. Then you squeeze them some more because this one’s for you.

“My special girls,” you breathe in, taking in all of their love. Soaking it all up so that tonight you have the courage to try again. To allow yourself a love of your own. When you let go, there’s a sniffle from the closet. It totally dawned on you that Shoko was still on the phone.

“They’re so big now, they don’t even know their auntie,” she fakes a sob, blowing her nose into a tissue.

“Mom, who’s on the phone?” Haruki queries with a confused expression etched onto her face. It suddenly dawns on you again that although you’ve been communicating with Shoko again, you haven’t exactly told them.

“Hey, you came in here to tell me something right, Han?” Your attempt to change the subject is poorly done, which doesn’t come as a surprise to you considering deflection has never quite been an ability you excelled at. Nonetheless, the look of suspicion they give you after is fleeting before they explain to you in unison that their father is here.

“Your father’s been waiting down there this whole time and nobody cared to tell me?” you whisper-yell, left eye twitching to emphasize your ill-preparedness. The girls only shrug their shoulders in response, like this was something you were just supposed to know.

“Well, you did force us into a hug and make us do all that Kumbaya stuff,” Hana mumbles under her breath.

“Okay, enough about all that. Are you guys all packed? Where are your bags? I don’t want your dad seeing–”

“You don’t want dad to see your date, right?” Hana raises a brow, all knowing. Sometimes she was a little too smart for her own good. You want to blame that on the private schools Satoru had them enrolled in, but really you just know she’s just a menace in her own right. She learned that from him.

“I agree with the kid,” a voice chimes in. You rush to the closet and grab your phone from the shelf. There’s a huge, shit-eating grin on Shoko’s face. Somehow she’s responsible for this. You don’t know how yet, nor do you have proof, but you know it.

“Okay, thank you, love you, bye!” Before you can hang up, Shoko blurts something.

“Tell him I said hi,” she begins, “–andnottogetahardonwhenheseesyou!”

You hang up the call and roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself because of her idiocy. When you enter the corridor, you hear a faint sound of hushed voices from downstairs. It’s only when you round the bannister at the top, when those voices become discernible and louder.

You stop at the top, and when your eyes meet his, it feels like all the air in your lungs have expelled. Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of what you’re wearing, and the fabric, and the way it clings to your body. Neither he, nor you, look away–you should, you want to, but you don’t.

And in the time the two of you gaze upon the other, time stops for a modicum of a second. In this second, you and him are the last two souls in the world. At least, that’s how it feels anyway before he breaks eye contact.

You shift your gaze shortly after, and put on a trained smile. Those eyes of his were always so intense. You guess you forgot over the years how easy it was to lose yourself in the crystalline pools of them. Gathering your wits, you resume your movements and saunter down the imperial staircase.

“Hey, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Sort of lost track of time, but I think the girls are all packed,” you say, your voice coming to a decrescendo upon noticing the way his eyes trail over your frame. They’re unreadable, though. Indifferent, and honestly, you’re not sure how to feel. So, you begin fidgeting uncomfortably with the rings around your finger.

Then, he smiles. It’s eerie and fake. “Not a problem, I haven’t been here too long. But, uh,” he begins ambling around the place, touching random objects around the living room, “Didn’t know you had plans. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with your colleagues?”

You furrow your brows, confused with his sudden interests in your plans. It wasn’t really like him to prod. “No, actually,” you rock back-and-forth on the balls of your heels, “i’m…i’m going on a date,” you finish with a pursed smile. He only nods his head in response, still walking around the place touching stuff, messing with the picture frames on the mantle. They’re all crooked now.

“How come this is the only picture you have up of me,” he asks suddenly. You know, that he knows, the answer to that. And he knows, that you know, you’ll indulge in his games anyway.

“The girls wanted them in their rooms. Why do you ask? You want me to go grab them and put ‘em all up around the house?” Again, he doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a final once over before heading back to the foyer to ask if the girls are all set to go.

“Yeah, but I can’t find my tablet, dad. Can I go look for it?” Haruki speaks up. “I thought I packed it.”

Satoru looks at the time on his watch, pinches the crease in between his brows. “Sure, kiddo. Can we make it quick, please?” He throws his hand in the air for emphasis, then points to his watch. Haruki nods, then runs up the stairs.

“Actually, you go on up too and help your sister. You guys are holding up dad,” you turn to Hana and gesture for her to head up with your head. She rolls her eyes, yelling up the stairs for her younger sister to ‘freaking hurry up’.

You and Satoru both turn to each other with wide eyes, laughing at the nerve of those children.

“They get that attitude from you, you know,” you point to him, driving your index finger into his bicep.

“You sure? Their mom’s got a pretty bad mouth on her, too. Or, have you forgotten?” He teases, bending his knees slightly to level his eyes with yours, intruding into your space. The smirk he dons is cheeky, too friendly–too inviting. You want to smack it off of him.

“Oh, shut u–” the sound of your phone chiming interrupts your banter. It’s a message from Kazuki, and you open it while Satoru stands over you. Probably close enough to read the message on his own if he wanted.

Kazuki: Hey, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can go through with tonight.

When you read the message, your heart drops into your stomach. There goes the other shoe, you think, fully embracing your pessimism. Who were you kidding, really? To think that tonight you’d go out and have a good time. Do something for yourself. It was stupidity.

Chat bubbles pop up on the screen. He has more to say.

He has more to say, and you’re fighting the urge to cry–to not shake out of sheer frustration while you’re still standing in front of Satoru. Because nothing would be worse than him seeing you can’t even land a date.

Kazuki: I recently just went through a divorce, and I know that I should have informed you about this before continuing our conversations…Especially since you’ve been so transparent with me about your own divorce and strife.

Kazuki: But if I’m being completely honest, I was scared. I genuinely wanted to see this through, at first. I wanted to forget about my ex-wife for just one night. But I realized I’ve been asking the impossible of myself…I’m still in love with her, and it’s because I’m in love with her that I won’t allow myself to lead you on any further.

Kazuki: I think we would’ve had a good time tonight. It's unfortunate we had to meet under such circumstances because you’re a really lovely woman, and I’m sorry an asshole is standing you up right now.

Kazuki: Take care. I know there’s a guy out there just waiting for his shot.

Satoru takes notice of the way your face drops as you read over the messages. Part of him wants to overstep his boundaries and take a peek at the screen. But he doesn’t. He gives you your space and takes a seat on the couch, waits for you to say something first.

In the meantime, he studies your face. Watches intently as your eyes become glossy the more you scan the messages, watches as your bottom lip catches between your teeth to hold back from crying. He thinks he knows what just happened.

Taking a deep breath, you lock your phone and put on another trained smile, “Well, looks like I’m staying in tonight.” Satoru dislikes when you do that. When you put on a fake smile and overcompensate to make others around you feel better, even when it’s so very obvious you aren’t. He wishes that sometimes you would just be selfish–act out.

And then you continue the façade. It makes his skin itch.

“I was too tired anyway, guess I can just catch up o–”

“Will you stop,” he spits, rising from his seat on the couch to stand. It comes out harsher than he intended, but he doesn’t regret it. You look at him like he’s got two heads as he walks over to the mantle and leans against it. His back is turned towards you, and the palms of his hands hold the crest of it. He uses it as leverage to rock on the heels of his feet. You can tell there’s something he wants to say because of the way his jaw ticks.

Satoru is never one to bite his tongue, so you’re not exactly sure why he’s choosing to be so restrained. If he wasn’t going to spit it out, you were going to poke. “What’s your problem?”

He chuckles at this, rubs his chin then pushes off the mantle to stand in front of you, gets all in your space again. The movement almost sends you back but you hold your ground, tilt your chin up at him and repeat the question. Slowly, this time with more venom.

“My problem? What’s your problem?” He breathes through his nose, his eyes flickering back-and-forth between your own. “Why do you always pretend like you’re not lonely? It’s okay if you were looking forward to having fun tonight. It’s okay to be upset and be mad at the asshole who stood you up!”

With every verbal prod at you, the gap between you decreases. His feet inch closer and closer to your own and force you to retreat farther until your back hits the wall. The coldness of it causes your breath to hitch, and you try to stay calm as Satoru encroaches more into your personal space. Being on the receiving end of his passion was always suffocating, you feel exposed under the intensity of his gaze–even more so as he continues to tear into you.

“Why do you even care?!” you cut him off, eyes wide and veins pumping full of adrenaline. “It’s not your place to be so invested in my life anymore! We’re not together, you don’t have to get so hot and bothered about things going shitty for me. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.”

By the time you finish, you’re a heaving, shaking mess. He takes this as a sign to withdraw from your space, and goes to sit back down on the couch. When you finally settle your nerves, you join him, leaving a foot of space in between you. There’s an awkward silence, one that wouldn’t have even happened if he just respected your boundaries in the first place. Now he feels like the asshole instead of the actual asshole who dumped you. Taking a hesitant breath, he decides to speak up.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…It wasn’t my intention to come off so strong like that,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t always have to pretend to be fine. It’s not fair, you shouldn’t do that to yourself.” His eyes wander over to you reluctantly, like he’s scared that if he looks too long you’ll disengage from the conversation.

“It’s okay,” your voice is small, just above a whisper. You want to face him, but you know that if you do, you'll break into a million pieces. So you keep your gaze downward, busy yourself with the stray pieces of thread on the bottom of your dress. “You’re right, you know. I think I just…I think I just tell myself to expect disappointment so that when something bad happens, I’ll know it’s not because I got my hopes up.”

Satoru turns to you, and you can see him frown through your peripheral. Still, you don’t face him because you’re not done talking. But you thank him silently for listening without interrupting.

“Even though you’re right, I don’t appreciate the way you came on so strongly. We’re not married anymore, we’re not a couple–we’re co-parents. So if there’s something I want you to know about that’s outside of the scope of our kids, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, leave it alone.”

Satoru’s face softens. For once you’re being selfish, putting your foot down. This is the side of you he likes. “Okay. I respect that,” he says, “But can I ask you something?” The smile on his face is mirthful, like he’s got something else up his sleeves this evening. Skeptical, you finally face him with a raised brow.

“What?”

“Let me take you to dinner.”

You laugh in his face, even go as far as smacking his arm because you want him to know you found the joke really funny. He doesn’t budge, and that’s when you realize he’s being serious.

“Wait, what?”

“Let’s go to dinner,” he stands up, crossing his arms across his chest. You tilt your head in disbelief. You’re just waiting for someone to tell you you’re on that old reality show punk’d.

“Funny, I just poured my heart out to you and now you’re making fun of me,” you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance.

“I’m being serious,” he reassures, “you’re already dressed up. It’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” His eyes are twinkling with hope, and once again, you find yourself falling victim to their persuasiveness.

Being under Gojo Satoru’s gaze was suffocating.

Giving in, you ask, “So what are you gonna do? Drive all the way home to get dressed?”

The question is genuine, but the bastard just grins. “I’m a little hurt,” he throws a hand over his heart, “don’t you know me by now? I’m a businessman. I keep pressed blazers and slacks on me at all times.”

He swings his keys around his index finger, hoping that the promise of a spare change of clothes being in his car is enough to convince you to say yes.

“I don’t know…” you trail.

“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Somehow he was able to persuade you into going out. After he changed into his spare clothes, you ended up telling your girls that there was gonna be a change of plans, and that they’d go home with their dad tomorrow.

Of course, before leaving, you made sure to leave some money on the table for pizza, and you also made sure to drill into their heads not to open the door for anyone except the delivery guy. You knew they knew the drill already, but it didn’t feel right to leave without saying it anyway.

“Be good, listen to your sister, she’s in charge,” you pinch Haruki’s cheek. Hana smirks, nodding her head in agreement with you.

“I will mom, I know,” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“And you,” your finger wags at Hana, her smirk drops. “Don’t provoke your sister, be nice. Act like you love each other, please.”

“Fine, whatever. I guess,” she grabs the knob to the door, ready to kick the both of you out already. “So does this mean the two of you are back together, or?”

Satoru and you turn to each other before answering in unison, “No.”

“Okay, cool. Well, have fun,” she practically closes the door on the two of you, locking it after. Satoru is just as dumbfounded as you are, but then you break into a fit of laughter.

“Those kids, man.”

“Your kids!” you correct, pushing him playfully as the both of you walk down the pebbled pathway. He finds his equilibrium in time to unlock the car and open your side of the door. You pause before ducking inside.

“Oh, how gentlemanly of you,” you jest, “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“How could it be when I’m alive?” He says matter-of-factly, closing your side of the door. He taps the top of the car before sliding across the hood to the other side. Nice to see some things never changed.

When he gets inside and turns on the car, he puts his hand on the back of your seat to back out. The proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to physically refrain from letting your eyes linger on his jaw, and his arms, and the face he makes when he’s trying to concentrate.

You try to dispel these less-than-friendly thoughts by looking somewhere, anywhere else but him. But you can’t, and it’s irritating.

This is the second time tonight you’ve been this close, and it’s only this time that you realize something about him is…different. Earlier, he didn’t really smell like anything, but you quickly notice his smell has changed.

There’s a sort of piney scent coming from him. It’s not strong or obnoxious enough to blind your nostrils, but it’s enough for you to just barely pick up on it. You almost think it was premeditated, that he took the liberty of spritzing some on before walking you to the car. Before you separated, he’d made it a habit to wear variations of woody scents for you. If you can recall correctly, a passing comment you made about the cologne he was wearing that day is what sparked the habit.

Surely, this couldn’t be coincidental?

“You smell nice,” you blurt, filling in the silence.

Satoru glances at you, “Thank you.” You hate that from the corner of your eye, you can see his stupid little smirk growing bigger by the minute. He already had a big ego, it didn’t need to be stroked any more.

“Don’t let it go to your head, though. You usually smell pretty rank.”

“Ohhh, is that so? Guess I gotta start wearing this more often then, huh?”

“Sure, do what you want,” you say, trying to remain indifferent even though you’re failing terribly to hide your smile. When the car approaches a red light, you finally decide to ask the big question. “So where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see,” he glances over, “Just know I’m good friends with the owner, so last minute reservations weren't a problem.”

The rest of the car ride is silent, save for the low hum of the music playing on the radio. When you arrive at the location, Satoru makes sure to walk all the way around to your side of the door again and open it. Immediately after, the two of you are greeted by a young male. He’s wearing a white button down, black slacks, and a black vest with a red tie. Judging by his appearance, you assume he’s a valet driver.

Satoru drops his keys in the driver’s hands, and escorts you towards the entrance. The boy bows and goes to park the car. Looking around, you start to wonder where exactly this place is supposed to be. The area is dark and secluded, and from where you stand outside, it doesn’t sound like there’s supposed to be a restaurant here. You don’t hear any voices, you don’t even see any security or other passerbyers.

Still, you follow behind him like a duckling, only coming to a halt when he leads you to a door taller than the both of you. He gestures for you to back up, then raises his knuckles to blow a strong, single knock. You’re taken by surprise when a set of angry eyes appear behind a slot in the door.

The pair of eyes first scan over you, then Satoru. A gruff voice is second to accompany them, “Where can I get a good drink?”

“I heard the bar down the street is nice,” Satoru answers. The hatch to the door closes, then swings open the door, and the man behind it moves aside to welcome you in.

“Follow me, please.” Once he closes the door, he begins guiding you down the dimly lit hallway. After making what seems like your hundredth turn, you eventually reach a staircase. The man gestures for you to go on ahead, and you think this is him implying where the three of you will depart.

“Thank you,” you say softly, disappearing down the stairs. Satoru isn’t too far behind, keeping a pace between you. As you near the end of the long, narrow hallway, a stream of white light brightens up your whole path. It leads you down to another door like a beacon of light, and when you reach it, you can hear voices, live music, and dishes clanking on the other side. It’s bustling with life. A huge, joyous smile plasters across your face. It’s almost child-like in appearance, like you haven’t seen something this cool in a long time.

Satoru stands beside you and winks. “What d’ya think? Any idea yet where we are?”

“I think this is fucking cool, and hm,” you take a second to mull it over, “are we at a speakeasy?”

“Smart girl. Now come on.” Stepping back, you allow him to pull open the door, and when he does, there isn’t a word to describe the atmosphere of the place you step into. All you can do is stand there in astonishment. Before long, a man walks up to you.

“Welcome, what is the name you reserved under?”

“Gojo.”

Nodding, the host instructs you to follow after him. He leads you to a private seating area, somewhere far in the back that’s secluded from the other patrons. The space is much bigger, and much more extravagant. You know you’re only sitting way back here because Satoru is who he is. And in all the years you’ve known him, his connections were just another party trick in his arsenal.

The hostess seats you, then Satoru, and tells you that a waiter will be with you shortly.

“This is nice, really nice, but is it–”

“Legal?” he finishes your sentence, “don’t worry. It’s a modern speakeasy-style restaurant. There’s nothing illegal going on here, promise.”

While you wait for your designated waiter, your focus shifts from the man in front of you to the man singing on the stage. Up until now, his voice was white noise in the background, but then he started singing a tune scarily reminiscent of your past–and your breath catches in your throat.

If I ever leave you, baby

You can say I told you so

And if I ever hurt you

You know, I hurt myself…

Turning your gaze back to Satoru, you squint your eyes mirthfully in disbelief. You wonder if this is just a funny coincidence, if this is the universe playing her tricks, but you know deep down, that coincidences and Gojo Satoru don’t belong in the same sentence.

You open your mouth to speak, but quickly close it when you see the waiter approaching from the corner of your eye. He greets the both of you with a polite smile, then sets down two glasses of water.

“Good evening, I’ll be your waiter for the night,” he says, placing a menu in front of you, “Can I get you fine folks started off with a bottle of wine?”

Satoru nods, tells him to bring the best bottle of red they have and then gestures for him to come closer so that he can whisper something in his ear. All the while, you sit back in your seat observing, clicking your nails on the table until the server pulls back and bows.

When he departs, you immediately lean in over the table, and ask, “Just how much time did you have to plan all of this?”

Satoru feigns aloofness, taking a sip of his water, “What do you mean?”

You roll your eyes, gesturing at the stage with your eyes. Then, as if suddenly coming to a realization, he goes, “Oh, that? Yeah, I had nothing to do with that. But isn’t it funny they’re playing our old song?”

Now he’s smirking, with his elbow leaning back on the chair, and a gaze so piercing, you’re certain you’ll crumble into nothing unless you look away. So you do, avert your gaze back to the stage and sway calmly.

Is that any way for a man to carry on

Do you think I want my loved one gone

Said I love you

More than you’ll ever know

“So funny,” you counter.

Eventually, the server comes back with a bottle. “1982 Chateau Latife Rothschild,” he holds it out to present, “Is this alright?”

Despite the years spent with Satoru, and the many elitist events you often attended with him, your knowledge on wine had never surpassed anything but surface level. You knew the difference between good wine and cheap wine was the taste, but your taste buds had grown accustomed to store-bought, so if anything, store-bought tasted like heaven to you. Anyway, though, you nod your head and urge him to pour a glass.

“Thank you,” you smile, before gently swirling the glass and bringing it up to your nose to smell (something you only know to do after being the odd man out at so many company banquets). Satoru waits for you to sip your glass before he sips his. The way you melt into your seat is a silent assurance that you’re pleased.

“This is great, you’re amazing,” you tell the server, who seems pleased by your compliment.

“Glad to be of service, miss. Are you ready to order?”

Dinner goes by smoothly. In fact, it goes by so smoothly, you and Satoru finish the entire bottle of wine. Now you sit at the table, bellies full, faces flushed and sore from laughing, and now you find yourself telling him about the grocery store incident. If you had half a mind (a sober one), you’d shut up right this second to save yourself from the embarrassment. But you don’t. And Satoru’s very persuasive when you’re tipsy.

“Keep going,” he leans in, hand nestled under his chin. He’s completely invested in the story. Actually, as soon as he heard the words ‘store’ and ‘cute guy’, he just had to know more. And you begging him to change the subject didn’t help, not when the sadist in him loved to see you so embarrassed.

“Fine,” you hiccup, “It was so - so bad, Toru.” He doesn’t miss the way you slip and call him by the nickname you’d always reserved for him. It makes his heart race, and god, does he miss the way it sounds spilling from your lips. But he ignores the feeling, and refocuses on your story instead. Which, by the way, was proving to be a task in itself because his eyes couldn’t stop drifting back down to your lips. So soft, so–

“And then she said ‘we don’t believe in rings,’” you whisper, fist coming down on the table. The sound it makes nearly sobers you up, and you realize just how loud you’re being despite your table being secluded from others. Giggling like a kid, you continue, “I mean, how fucking insane is that?!”

“Something as bizarre as that could only ever happen to you,” he replies, laughing along with you, “those people were crazy.”

“The craziest,” you agree, throwing your head back in another fit of laughter. Gradually, the two of you begin to settle down, and once again, you find your attention being drawn back to the man on the stage. Only this time, he’s making an announcement.

“Good evening ladies and gentleman. Tonight I’ve got a special request,” he says, looking out into the audience. Looking at you. “This one’s for a very special lady who, from what I’ve been told, is a great mother that needs to start doing things for herself.”

The singer steps out of the spotlight and hands the note to a server. Your server. Then he begins to sing, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It was your wedding song.

[...] I don’t even know how to love you

Just the way you want me to

But I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

Yes, I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

“Now this one? This one was me,” Satoru leans forward, and you swiftly turn your head to face him. He smiles as he watches your face go through ten different emotions before ultimately softening. It warms your heart to see how incredibly planned this evening was, despite the amount of time he was given to work with. Even so, it kind of scares you–because then that meant this was a grand gesture–that this was his way of saying something. And you weren’t too sure if you wanted to hear it. Your gaze drops to your lap, and Satoru frowns.

To fall in love

To fall in love with you…

“Look at me,” he says softly, but you don’t. “Hey, look at me.” He reaches over the table to take your chin in between his fingers. The touch alone feels electric. Sends liquid hot lightning down the column of your spine. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and like always, it’s suffocating. They’re so wide with hope, and so, so gentle in the way they hold you. The longer you gaze upon them, the more you convince yourself it’ll be okay if you surrender to them.

“It’s been years since we’ve divorced,” his voice is shaky, almost strained, like he’s actively thinking how to choose his words carefully, “and when we sat down that night, I thought it was what I wanted, too, you know? And for a while, it was,” he reaches a hand across the table to rest atop your own, “but you gotta know…you gotta know–you’re it for me. There’s no one else on this Earth that I want to start over with. You’ve always been the beginning and end of my story, and I’ll be damned if I let another man start one with you.”

Your heart is beating faster than you can even process what he’s saying. The only thing you’re focused on is not passing out in the middle of this damn restaurant. But then he’s squeezing your hand, and your focus is drawn back to those piercing, pale blues that even put crystals to shame.

“So what do you say?” he says, so softly, so tender. “Can we try again?”

Waiting for your reply, he squeezes your hand again. It’s like your soul is wandering the line between death and the living, and his touch is the tether that brings you back. In the background, the tune of the song sung at your wedding gives you a push of courage.

I don’t even know how to kiss your lips (kiss your lips)

At a moment like this

But I’m going to learn how to do

All the things you want me to

Yes, I’m ready

(Are you ready?) Yes, I’m ready

To fall in love

To fall in love right now

“Yes.”

The walk back to the car is hurried. Aided by both, years and years of built up tension, and the liquid courage currently bubbling in your systems.

The race back to his apartment is even faster. You thank the gods silently that it’s within close proximity to where you just were.

Once you get there, make your way past the doorman and concierge (who both give the two of you a knowing look), go up the elevator, and finally get into his loft–it’s over. Years of restraint, years of pretending, wanting–yearning, come crashing down.

There’s barely any time to close the door before he’s pushing you against it. His lips trail down the column of your neck, then come up to kiss your jaw, until eventually, they find your lips. And when they do, it’s instantaneous–that familiar feeling, the feeling that feels almost like falling.

Once again, for what felt like centuries, you feel again the rush of helplessness. The push and pull of the tide. It brings you down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean floor, and it’s unmerciful.

Kissing Satoru is like being shocked with ten thousand volts of energy. Like all this time you’ve spent not kissing him, has been costing you your life, and he’s the only one who can deliver you salvation. It’s all teeth and tongue for a minute. Messy, and sticky, and nasty. A true testament to the desperation brewing in the pits of both your stomachs.

The sensation of it all has your knees going slack, and that’s when he says–

“Jump.”

Obeying, you do just that. Jump right into his arms, and wrap your legs around his torso like you’ve done so many times before. The way you feel now is the way you used to feel before then, too. Like you were made to fit like this. To be held in his arms like you were molded from the same clay.

Carefully, he adjusts his grip on your body. Keeps his palms planted on the bottoms of your ass, and begins the trek to his room. He struggles a bit getting there because you haven’t stopped kissing since entering the apartment, but he figures it out after a stumble or two (which resulted in a bitten lip and you apologizing profusely through giggles).

“The turbulence up here is crazy, don’t blame me, blame the pilot,” you jest, kissing down his neck to make up for it.

“I’ll make sure to let him know,” he jokes back. As soon as he gets to the bed, he sets you down at the edge of the bed. You try to bring him down to your height but he stops you, wags his finger in your face playfully before using it to push you back into the bed. His fingers start to play with the fabric of your dress, and then his face takes on an indifferent expression. The same one from earlier that night when he first saw you walking down the stairs.

“Can’t believe you were gonna wear this for him…” he trails, lifting the fabric up slowly, eyeing you while doing so, “as if this dress doesn’t mean something.”

Of course, when Shoko chose it, its significance did make you falter–but in your defense, not once did you ever anticipate for him to see you in it. And you especially didn’t expect for him to remember it, the last time you wore it was almost a decade ago.

“I didn’t…” you start, a smile creeping on your lips, “think you remembered?”

“‘Course I did, how could I not?” He says more sharply than intended, taking offense. He takes offense because he spent the better half of the night showing you he remembered. The little things and everything else in between. Couldn’t you see that?

“It was our 4th anniversary. Bought you this dress and fucked you in it that same night. Funny how the second time I’m seeing you in this dress, the circumstances are the same except only this time we’re divorced,” he says, crawling over your body. “Guess I gotta show you just how much I remember.”

With that, he slips a hand under your dress, pulls your panties to the side and runs a finger down your slit. Oh-so-willingly, do you spread your legs for him. It’s almost subconscious, the way your body responds to him. And he revels in it. Lets his fingers work you, feel you, bring you to ecstasy. Then he heightens your pleasure tenfold when he kisses his way down your body, and takes a seat before you on his knees.

Unceremoniously, he pulls your body to the edge of the bed. Takes his time slipping your panties down the length of your legs, then kisses the insides of your thighs, before finally stopping at your mound.

Slowly, he lowers himself to your cunt, kisses your clit softly. Once, twice, three times. The pace in which he’s moving is killing you, to say the least. But you know he’s savoring the moment, making up for all the years he spent not kneeling like this between your legs. So you let him; let him caress you all over before he comes seeking the honey-sweet salvation dripping from your core.

The second his tongue makes contact with your heat, you find yourself clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “Fuck, Toruuuu,” you drawl, back arching off the bed. Pleased with his abilities, he smiles smugly, using this as an opportunity to push himself even deeper. Up and down, he licks at your slit, uses his fingers in tandem with his tongue to prod at that spongy spot he knows you love.

“Tastes,” a harsh suck, “so good,” another, “better than I remember.”

You know he’s talking, but his words fall on deaf ears. You’re so caught up in your own high, you don’t even take notice of the obscene sloshing sounds coming from your pussy, or the moans you’re making. All you can do is lay there and take it as he takes, and takes, and takes from you.

Soon, you find your orgasm cutting through you like a knife, and you come with a strangled cry that has you biting back tears. Satoru talks you through the whole thing. He lays his head down on your thigh and continues working you with his fingers until you start to shake from the overstimulation.

For a few, you lay and stare at the ceiling. You think you can see the Milky Way–and all the constellations that make it up. It feels like your soul is floating beyond your physical body, and you don’t come back down to Earth until a sharp, stinging sensation brings you back. Did he just?

“Did you just bite me?” you lift your head, peering down to see the evidence. In all its glory, there it was; a red ring smack-dab in the inside of your thigh with teeth imprints. Looking at Satoru, he grins.

“Had to get you back from earlier,” he says, sitting back on his knees. You attempt to kick him with your foot, but he grabs hold of it. Pretending to be wounded, he gasps, “Is this how you treat the man who just gave you a soul-shattering orgasm?”

You roll your eyes, but to your dismay, it only encourages him to continue.

“Fuck, Toru,” he mimics, “oh my god, Toru. You fuck me so goo–”

“Alright, enough!” you manage to kick him this time, laughing as you bring up your hands to cover your face. “Keep carrying on like that and I won’t let you fuck me…” You’re serious in your bite, but he’s smirking. Like he knows you’re full of bullshit.

“Yeah right. You and I both know I make you feel too good.”

Feeling bested, you scoff, though, there’s no real weight behind it. While he begins to remove his shirt, you sit up and replace his hands. He relinquishes control and allows you to unbutton it until the item falls haphazardly to the floor.

He’s so beautiful, you think. Still so chiseled, so perfect after all these years since you’ve last seen him like this. At his most vulnerable. The only difference now is that there are more freckles littered across his skin. Back then, he’d say they were signs of aging, and he’d hate them.

But he’s older now. More mature. So much so that he even winks at you when you trace your fingertips over them.

“They suit you,” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “mhm.”

Continuing your ministrations, you begin removing his belt. He holds your gaze the entire time it takes for you to unzip his pants and pull them down–and he doesn’t once shy away when you discover the wet spot on the front of his briefs. Slowly, delicately, you remove the soiled item and let it fall down to the floor with the rest of his clothes.

Still looking at him, you take hold of his length and fist him once, twice, experimentally. A dribble of pre oozes from his slit and you bring it to your mouth. All the air in his lungs expel into the air when you lick it off with your tongue, and god, he thinks he could come from that alone.

God, he’s missed you. Missed your touch, your lips–the way you hold him with your eyes like he’s something worth being gentle with. Nothing could ever compare to you, not even his own hand.

As soon as you’re about to take him in your mouth, he stops you. Pushes you back down onto the bed and slots himself between your legs. “No more playing, I’m tired of playing,” he breathes, lowering himself down until half of his weight is on top of you.

Guiding his cock to your entrance, he pushes past your folds with little resistance. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him in has his arms wobbling like jelly, but he musters enough strength somehow to stay up. You, on the other hand, are close to tears.

The more he eases himself in, the more you feel like you’re being stretched open (despite him previously prepping you). If you were being truthful, this wasn’t a complete shock to you. You’ve known that he’s always been big, but something about tonight feels different. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve had something more than just your own fingers.

Even so, you try your best to ignore the burn of the stretch. You throw your arms around his neck and invite him deeper into you, hooking your legs around him so tightly that it renders his limbs useless. For a minute, all you can feel is the weight of him inside of you, and his chest against yours as they rise and fall asynchronously.

“Toru,” your voice is just barely above a whisper, but enough to make the hairs on the nape of his neck stand. “Make love to me.”

Heeding your request, he begins moving. Painfully slow, he unsheathes himself from you until only the head of his cock is inside, then pushes himself all the way back in with force. Again, and again, he repeats this motion. Pulls out, pushes in. Pulls out, pushes in, until he decides to increase his pace and set a steady rhythm.

Every thrust into you is meticulously calculated. Sharp, and forceful, and not once does he disrupt the rhythm. He listens carefully to the sounds you make. Even listens to the way your breath hitches when he hits a spot right. Everything he’s doing is perfect–and it’s to no surprise. Deep down, you know that Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand. He’d know it if you were all old and wrinkly. He’d know it if his soul reincarnated. Hell, he’d know it blind.

“Missed this,” he grunts, burying his head into the interstice of your neck, “missed you,” a kiss to your neck, “missed us.”

The veracity of his words render you speechless. He’s already professed his feelings for you tonight, but it feels even more real now that you’re beneath him. To be loved by Gojo Satoru was a feeling many couldn’t say they had the consolation of knowing. Only a few in his circle could hold that position–but only one person in this world could truly ever know his love to its fullest extent. You.

Satoru continues his mindless rambling, “I love you,” a thrust, “it’s always been you,” another, “was always going to be you.” Leaning back on his heels, he pushes your dress all the way up to reveal your breasts. Now it’s him who sits back and admires this time. As if he were reacquainting himself, he traces the planes and pastures of your chest with an eager hand. He runs it up and over each mound, squeezing and kneading the flesh experimentally.

Then, he dips down and kisses the space between them. Sucks and licks until the skin bruises, and he has evidence to prove tonight actually happened. Eventually, he withdraws from your chest and returns his focus on easing his cock in and out of your cunt.

“So beautiful,” he says, but it’s more to himself than anything. You’re so lost in your own pleasure, he doesn’t even think you can hear him. “Want you to cum on my cock, know you can do it, baby. Know you can,” he grunts, taking your hand and intertwining it with his own. Letting his head fall into your neck, he begins to quicken his pace. Fucks into you with everything he’s got and willing to give.

“Toru,” you finally manage to say, “‘m so close, keep going. Do it - do it inside.”

Do it inside. Do it inside. Do it inside. The thought is tempting, too tempting. It makes his dick twitch inside of you, and he swears if you say it again, he’ll actually do it. But he knows better than to listen to anything you say out of delirium.

“Trust me, sweet girl,” he cradles your face, to which you lean into, “I want to - I want to so fucking badly. But we both know you’d regret it later.”

Whining, your lips form into a pout, and the sight is so cute, he can’t help but to kiss it off of you. Compared to your kiss earlier, this one is much sweeter. Slower. More relaxed. He kisses you with the intent of making you dizzier than you already are, and it’s scary. Even so, you don’t pull away. You allow him to drink you up. Like your lips are the only source of water around, and he’s been quenched for days.

Finally, with a few more thrusts, you reach your climax. The pressure building in the pit of your belly pops like a balloon, and everything goes white. “Toru!” you shriek, arching off the bed and trembling in his grasp.

Using your arch as leverage, he keeps his hands underneath your back and continues to ram into you without abandon. You’re a babbling, wet mess at this point, and your cunt squeezing around him only encourages him more.

“Fuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna - ‘m gonna,” he curses, balls beginning to tighten. Quickly, he unsheathes himself and fists himself the rest of the way. With an impassioned moan, he climaxes–spurting thick, white, ropes of seed all over your abdomen. Then, falls onto your limp body with a grunt, chest heaving rapidly, and slick with perspiration.

By this time, you’ve settled down enough to form a proper sentence. “That was…”

Satoru huffs, catching his breath. “Yeah.”

Still spent, he continues to lay atop you. And you, having nowhere else to go, let him. The two of you lay comfortably in silence like this for a long time. Just you tracing shapes into his back, and him purring into your neck. Both of you know you should be getting up, but neither of you make an effort to do so. In this moment, time is transcendent. There is no rush to move when time stands still for you.

Soon, that silence is broken.

“I love you,” you say, and there’s no elaboration. Not even a recant. In fact, you say it so nonchalantly, he’s not even sure it was real. You say it like you’ve never been more certain in your life, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do.

“Really?” he queries, almost pathetically like the mere idea of you loving him is something unattainable. You look at him like he’s got two heads.

“Yeah, you’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you,” you admit, pausing your ministrations on his back, “I just had to relearn how to love you.” He smiles at this, hums into your neck to keep from crying.

“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he mumbles into your neck, “so where do we go from here?”

“From here we take it slow. We’ll learn together what it means to be individuals, and then from there we’ll see where it goes,” you say matter-of-factly, “no more repeating past mistakes.”

“Agreed,” he nods, “what will we tell the girls?”

That’s when your eyes widen and you sit up, forcefully pushing Satoru off of you.

“What did I say, what’s wrong?” he queries, sitting up on the bed. He watches you rummage around the room maniacally, head on a swivel as you run out of the room and return with a purse. You pull your phone out to see a slew of missed calls and messages.

“We forgot to call the girls!” You yell, showing him your phone screen of missed calls. Gojo jumps up to join you, one leg already sliding into his pants.

“Shit!”

Noticing the state of your appearance, you pinch the skin between your brows. “Satoru, I can’t wear this! You got cum all over it,” you groan, pointing to all the splotches of white. He tells you to wait a second before disappearing into his closet, then he comes back with a fist of clothes and throws it at you.

“I can’t wear this either, they’ll wonder why I’m wearing your clothes!”

Satoru runs to you and pull the dress off of your body, “We’ll wash it!” he screams, disappearing again out of the room, and to where you imagine, the laundry room. When he returns, he’s out of breath and panting. It’s only then do you realize how insane he looks with half his shirt buttoned, and his pants twisted around his hips. A giggle escapes your lips.

“What are you laughing at? Chop chop,” he claps, ushering you into his bathroom.

Yeah, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this idiot.

comments + reblogs very appreciated !!!

#art by: @yamada_souko (twt)#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk smut

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slasher-male-wife · 11 months

Text

Telling slashers you like 'hot old men'

I am an old man lover and enjoyer for life. I love hot old men I hope I become one when I'm older. So what better way then to make a post appreciating all of the hot old men I'm in love with. I know some of these men aren't like super old but it's still kind of old ok? We're talking an age range from 30's-50's. Also this was buried in my drafts since like April.

Includes: Doomhead, The Grabber, Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm, Hannibal Lecter, and Bo Sinclair

Warnings: Implied kidnapping in The Grabbers section

Doomhead

He honestly thought you said something else when you first said it. You two were watching a movie together and you made a comment on how you love "hot old men".

When he asks you to repeat yourself and you confirm that you said you love hot old men he laughs. He knows he's an older man but you saying that is really funny to him.

"Are you calling me an old man, sugar?" He asks you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. After you clarify you don't mean it in a negative way he just keeps laughing quietly.

He'll bring this up from time to time when he sees fit. He honestly might play up the 'old man' act just to tease you about it even more. But he's not too offended that you said it.

The Grabber

Because you've been behaving well he decided to treat you by giving you a magazine. He sat with you in the basement while you looked through the magazine.

He noticed you lingering on a page for a bit longer than the others. He asks you about why you're still on that page. You chuckle and tell him it's because there's an actor you love on it. "I just love old men." You say casually.

He pauses for a moment before he chuckles himself. He's an older man himself and because of your recent behavior. "Is that why you've been behaving so well for me?" He asks with a smile behind his mask.

Your chuckle and smile in response is all he needs to know. He's going to start subtly showing his age to you more and more. I think he'll try to show off his hands and arms. He's going to be so cocky about this and you'll never hear the end of it.

Mark Hoffman

You and Hoffman are coworkers and you've been dropping hints to him about your attraction to him. Today you were working with Hoffman, looking over some tapes when the discussion of how long you've been in the force came up.

When Hoffman mentioned when he graduated from the police academy and made a comment about how he's old you smiled and said, "Good thing I love old men."

He laughed it off at first then got a little defensive about how he's "not that old". You explained to him that you never meant it to be rude, you just meant to say that you find older men attractive.

He just nodded his head and went back to watching the tape over. But over the next few days he kept thinking about what you said. It's the most outwardly flirty you've been with him before. When he next sees you he asks you out and you accept.

Peter Strahm

You're on a date with him after being introduced to each other by a mutual friend. He took you somewhere nice and he's driving you home. You both feel a strong connection.

He mentions how long he's been working in the FBI and makes a comment about how you must think he's so old. But when you chuckle and tell him "Don't worry, I love old men." He chuckles too.

Peter isn't too much older than you but he still finds your comment funny. He asks you why and when you talk about how older men are more mature, provide stability, and they're just hot, he smiles and puts a hand on your thigh.

He thinks about your comment for awhile after the date. The comment and how well the date went leads him to asking you out again, which you of course say yes to.

Hannibal Lecter

You met Hannibal at an opera and he found you very attractive. He invited you over for dinner later in the week and you accepted. He made sure to make an impressive meal for you, which isn't hard for him to do.

You two start talking over dinner and Hannibal talks about his career as a surgeon then as a psychiatrist. He makes a comment about how you must think he's very old and you reply with, "I don't mind at all. I love old men."

He chuckles and says he's not that old. You tell him you know that but you start talking about how you love a man who looks more mature and has his life well put together.

The dinner goes well and he invites you over again later in the month. But he can't stop thinking about your comment. He knows he's an older man but he doesn't think he's that old. But the comment doesn't get to him too much because you like him anyway.

Bo Sinclair

You're sitting with Bo in his garage while he's working on a car. You're reading an old magazine when you start to giggle. He asks you what's so funny and you talk about how hot this model is.

When you show him the model Bo talks about how he looks pretty old to which you reply with "I love old men." Bo sets down his tool and looks at you.

"Are you saying I'm old, darlin'?" He asks you. You think for a moment before you tell him no. Bo is in his early 30's and you don't really consider that old.

You have to explain to him that by "old men" you mean men in their 40's and above. Bo will tease you about this constantly. Any time you two see an older man, either it being in a movie or a victim he asks you if he's your type.

#doomhead x reader #mark hoffman x you #mark hoffman x reader #peter strahm x reader #peter strahm x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter x reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction

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catboyieejeno · 1 year

Text

don't kiss and tell ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

other parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

pairings: best friend! mark + best friend! jeno + best friend! hyuck x female! reader summary: what happens when your three best friends ask you to decide which one of them is the better kisser? content: non-idol au, a lot of making out, suggestive, all three boys r lowkey crushing on you, cursing wc: 4k

masterlist

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

"so we have a small bet going on..." jeno starts, taking a seat at the foot of your bed. mark grabs one of your stuffed plushies and settles it between his arms as he sits.

"according to hyuck," jeno pauses, rolling his eyes in the direction of the youngest of your mutual friends who didn't bother finding a place to sit next to the other boys, instead taking his spot beside you and letting his head fall onto your lap, "he's the "best kisser" between the three of us,"

"bullshit," mark interrupts with a cough, glaring his way.

hyuck scoffs, grumbling a "yeah? why don't you come find out," while grabbing your hand and directing it to his scalp so you can play with his hair.

with slightly narrowed eyes, mark scoffs. "don't worry, that's what we're doing this for, right?"

"well," hyuck sighs, turning to face him, "I can guarantee it's not gonna be you. remind me, how many girls have you kissed again?"

mark scoffs loudly, just as hyuck had done moments ago, throwing his head back in annoyance.

"anyway," jeno holds out his arm to redirect the room's attention back to him, "we made a bet and we kind of need your help,"

with your fingers distractedly running through hyuck's locks, you purse your lips in thought, looking between the three boys expectantly. "how exactly am i meant to help?"

mark clears his throat, averting his gaze, "well, um..."

"you see, we agreed that, um-" jeno tries to explain, but his voice grows quiet.

"we needed someone t-to-"

"and we figured, you know, i-if it was you,"

your eyes narrow as you notice the way mark's ears start glowing red. he can no longer meet your gaze as he speaks, neither can jeno. the two boys stutter through their attempts at explaining your role in their little bet. that is, until hyuck lets out an exasperated sigh and shoots up from your lap, having grown impatient.

"we need you to kiss us so you can decide who's the best kisser."

your eyes go wide, breath hitching in your throat. "no," you shake your head, "no fucking way." and as soon as the words leave your lips, all three boys start protesting, speaking over each other in a hurry.

"I told you she'd say no." hyuck complains.

jeno blinks quickly, reaching for your shoulder, "no, no. y/n, you have to help us decide. i'm tired of hyuck insisting that he's good cause he practices on his hand every night. please," he pleads.

"i don’t practice on my hand, dipshit-"

"we need someone who is unbiased and- and who will be honest with us. that's you!" mark tries, but you're still shaking your head frantically, a scowl tainting your features.

"you guys can't ask someone else?" you attempt.

"yeah, you're right. jaemin and renjun must've slipped our minds," jeno replies sarcastically.

in defeat, you groan loudly, sitting up on your knees to create some distance between them and you, arms folding over your torso, "god, you guys are so weird!"

"Is that a yes?"

you think to yourself for a moment, weighing your options.

undoubtedly, your best friends were attractive and given the chance to kiss them, under different circumstances, you probably might... if you didn't know them as well as you do or before you had gotten as close as you have, then maybe.

either way, it would not be for a bet. If one or more of them got the wrong idea... or if you did... what then?

you stare at them, noting how they stare back, each with their own intentions and motives. jeno looks beyond desperate to prove hyuck wrong, entirely done with the younger boy's nagging persistence on the matter.

hyuck, of course, is looking to you, pleading for you to give him the chance to prove himself right, so he can rub it in. he also keeps staring at your lips, ever since he sat up, and you don't doubt that a part of him is curious to find out what it's like to kiss you.

mark seems to be somewhere between wanting to end the discussion between the two boys, and secretly wanting himself to be revealed as the winner, maybe as an unexpected surprise to everyone; perhaps, because he's the oldest, he's meant to have the most experience, but you and the boys know very well how shy mark gets about stuff like this.

you huff out a breath, unable to stare at their desperate expressions any longer, "fine," but before they can whoop and cheer, one of your fingers comes up to silence them. now, it's your turn to stutter, "b-but, there are terms and conditions. and y-you guys have to unanimously agree to all of them or the deal is off. okay?"

they all nod quickly, sitting up to listen to your list of rules with attentiveness.

"firstly, this is a one time thing, okay? there will be no more friend-on-friend macking after tonight." the boys nod their heads yes without protest. "as for the winner, you guys have to promise you won't get mad at me for who i decide. also, renjun and jaemin are not allowed to know out about this."

hyuck's eyebrow raises in immediate protest, "woah, but what if-"

"hyuck, i don't care." you say firmly, "they are to, under no circumstances, find out. the winner can brag to the other two losers in this room and that's it."

"but if I win-"

"hyuck," mark stresses, glancing at you, then back at the younger boy as if to hint that if he keeps pushing, you might change your mind about participating altogether, "shut up."

"fine," he sighs out.

you clear your throat before continuing. your eyes glance away as your voice grows quiet, "lastly," you mumble, "i don't want this to hurt our friendship, okay? and if it's going to or if things will be weird between us th-then... i don't want to do this at all,"

"hey, y/n," jeno grabs your hand reassuringly, "it won't change our friendship, we can all promise that, right?"

"of course,"

"right." they echo.

you nod once and swallow thickly, "well, erm, do you guys have questions?"

mark raises his hand like a school boy, "they're about the technicalities," he explains, chewing on his lip awkwardly at the sudden reality of the situation.

"okay," you whisper, anticipating his question.

"how long can we um, kiss you for?" he mumbles, suddenly growing shy.

"I think... 10 seconds is fair."

"woah, 10 seconds?!" mark's eyes grow wide.

instantly, hyuck laughs, elbowing mark to urge him to stay quiet, "i can do a lot in 10 seconds,"

jeno's head perks up as a thought comes into his head, "i have a question,"

"shoot,"

"is our score based on your personal taste or, is there a rubric? it needs to be fair, you know," he adds when hyuck gives him a glare.

"both," you decide after little thought, "part of my decision will be personal taste, and part of it will be the general stuff like," you brush your hair out of your face nervously, using your fingers to count out, "pace, skill, confidence,"

"where are we allowed to touch you?"

"hyuck," jeno rolls his eyes, throwing his hands up. he was about to smack the younger boy when mark held an arm out.

"actually," he stops him, "that's a fair question. i wanna know the answer,"

the three share a look, then turn to you expectantly.

"oh," you blink, "the PG rated areas,"

"yeah, but, where? I don't wanna overstep my boundaries," hyuck fails to hide his smirk and you sigh.

"you already are." you half joke, shaking your head, "anything from the shoulders up is okay. arms are okay, too, i don't know. if anything is too far i'll let you know then." you explain, "do you guys have any more questions?"

jeno looks at everyone, waiting, then speaks up to break the silence, "no one is allowed to ask questions after we start, that's unfair to whoever has already had their turn. so is everyone sure they have no more questions?"

"yes, nerd," hyuck smartly replies, leaning back on his hand. the other one comes up to his lips.

"okay," you breathe out shakily, "who's going first?"

"well, hyuck, since you talked a big game, why don't you kick us off?"

busy biting the skin around his nails, he gives jeno a disinterested look, "nah. everyone knows you leave the best for last,"

"i'm definitely not going first," mark declares, shaking his right hand no in front of him.

jeno sighs, looking at you with soft eyes, "okay. i guess i'm first?"

you nod slowly, scooting a little closer to where he sat.

jeno sits up straight, tucking his legs under his bum and kneeling. his hands reach for your forearms, but once he notices the moisture forming on his palms, he quickly retracts them, wiping them on the material of his black pants, "if you wanna change your mind, you still can,"

"relax, dude, you're more nervous than she is,"

"hyuck," mark gives the boy a smack on the arm, gesturing for jeno to continue.

"i'm okay," you assure the boy in front of you, and yourself, as you wait for him to make the first move. he's flushed, making a conscious effort to maintain eye contact so he doesn't appear as nervous as he really is.

"alright, here goes," a second or two pass. he loudly sighs and mumble, "i'm gonna do it now."

"jeno?"

"yeah?" he blinks.

"don't warn me," you giggle, "or count it off, or whatever. just do it,"

"right," he nods, letting out a little nervous laugh.

his hands come up to rest on the back of your arms, holding you steady. the gentle look in his eyes helps you relax, and you allow yourself to loosen up under his grip. jeno, on the other hand, leans in a little shakily, as if he's waiting for you to stop him any second.

mark and hyuck's curious eyes on the two of you don't seem to be helping his case either, especially when hyuck opens his big mouth again.

"bro, If you're gonna hold her like that, you might as well back out now-" his comment is cut short by jeno snapping his head over to him, sending the meanest of glares his way. He's seething, nostrils flaring.

"fine, sorry-" hyuck quickly apologizes, but none of you have the chance to reply because one of jeno's large hands has left your arm and is now resting on your jaw, right under your chin, holding it in his grip. he turns your face back to him. any hesitation he had moments ago is gone and his lips are on yours.

holy shit.

1 second...

if it wasn't for how hyper aware you were of just about everything right now, you might have missed the small gasp that left mark, or the sound of hyuck slapping his hand over his mouth.

2 seconds...

jeno's lips are moving rather quickly against yours, certainly projecting the frustration that lee hyuck awakens in him with his ruthless and deliberate provocations.

and while a little rushed, it's nonetheless, undoubtedly, an intoxicating kiss. he's modest about using tongue, only allowing it to brush against you, not any further. instead, his lips do all the work, tugging and pressing on yours at a speed that makes your heart beat faster.

despite the fact that there's a lot of motion going on between your lips, it's easy to follow, especially with jeno leading you. his other hand situates itself on your mid back, bringing your chest close, right against his.

5 seconds...

at first, jeno was holding his breath, but at the prospect of your breasts against his chest, he can't help the air that slips through his nostrils, tilting his head even more to the right so that he can easily capture more of you. your bottom lip sits between his, plump and red from the way he's sucking on it. his thumb rubs your jaw, soothingly, though by now, your nerves feel very far away.

8 seconds...

jeno leans into the kiss, as if trying to get as close to you as humanly possible, tilting you slightly back so that you have to grab his arms to keep steady. they're hard and warm under your fingers, and you instinctively squeeze them as jeno moves against you. your fingers trail up to his shoulders, nails slightly pressing in.

10 seconds.

mark clears his throat, but neither of you hear it.

hyuck claps his hands together once, finally breaking you apart as he shouts, "okay, okay! that's time! 10 seconds are up... geez," he breathes, looking between the two of you.

your hand flies to touch your lips, eyes opening wide. you try to keep your expression as stoic as possible, but it's hard to do so, especially when the boy in front of you just kissed the shit out of you.

jeno's shyness is long gone, and his eyes are now looking between your own, his usual half moons as large as saucers. he's a bit shocked at what just happened and just how good it felt.

hyuck pats mark on the back, "alright, bro, you're up."

"wait, what about," jeno clears his throat, voice a bit hoarse from what happened a moment ago, "what about my score?"

"she has nothing to compare it to yet. you have to wait till the end," mark insists, kneeling before you just as jeno had done.

jeno nods once, forgetting entirely about his previous commitment to receiving a fair score, mind blank and foggy after your kiss. truthfully, the fairest score would be given right after each kiss, but he can't seem to find the means to argue anymore.

instead, he shuffles away, getting up from your bed and turning in attempt to hide the redness spreading on his face. you watch him until mark let's out a little breath, drawing your focus back to him, narrow eyes looking at you through his brows.

his hands reach back to pull up his jeans that were beginning to slip down, then he settles, waiting for you to give him the go ahead.

he looks a little more confident than earlier, but being completely honest, you don't know if it's genuine or a mask he's put on in front of the other boys.

you've known mark the longest, and not once have you heard him talk about a girl he's liked, much less kissed.

you don't even know why he's doing this at all.

"mark,"

he scrunches his nose as if to ask 'what?'

"you don't- you know-" you sigh, unable to think of the right words, "you know you don't have to do this right? it's just a stupid bet and well, i know how you get about stuff like this. i don't want you to feel pressured or like you have to go along with it just because-"

he snickers and shakes his head at your rambling, leaning forward and using both of his hands to cup your face.

"y/n"

"yeah?" you whisper.

"shut up," he mumbles, and presses his lips against yours.

1 second...

his lips are soft and smooth, moving against yours painfully slow. so slow that it's almost torturous, teasing.

it's messy, the smacking sounds of your open-mouthed kisses ringing around the otherwise quiet room. his tongue swipes at your lips, warm and wet and taking its sweet time to taste you. it moves around, eager to swipe at your teeth and lap at your spit.

he savors you, kissing you as if there was no time limit, as if the other two guys were not watching, as if this wasn't just for a bet.

4 seconds...

your arms naturally wrap around mark's torso and he responds by leaning his hips forward until they're pressed up flush against yours.

you yelp into his mouth, surprised, and he quietly moans at the minimal friction against his groin, rolling his head around so that it's tilted toward the other way, allowing him to make out with you in an entirely new angle.

6 seconds...

one of his hands moves to swipe at your hair and brush it away from your face, and even though you're supposed to be judging the kiss, your mind can't stop spinning at the feeling of him pressing against you.

he's at least a little aroused... that or mark lee is secretly packing.

9 seconds...

you melt in his hands, letting him completely guide you and guide the kiss. he keeps his slow pace until the very end, when hyuck calls out,

"10 seconds."

obediently, mark pulls away once his time is called, but before releasing your face from his hold, he presses one last, quick kiss to your mouth. your cheeks and ears burn hot, and you're almost certain that they're bright red.

you didn't imagine that right? he moaned...

you can tell by the way his bottom lip is caught between his teeth that he's trying to hold back a grin, and just like jeno, mark gets up, leaving his spot open for hyuck, who is next in line.

as mark stands, you watch the way he slickly readjusts his pants, taking advantage while jeno is distracted: he's busy preparing the timer on his phone for hyuck's turn, while hyuck is sliding over and situating himself in front of you, eyebrows wiggling and smirk ever so present.

mark turns back around unnoticed, hands in his pocket as he watches. jeno shoots him a look, something almost like a glare. his jaw is locked in place, tight and unyielding. if you didn't know him any better, you might even say he's mad.

you clear your throat, hand pressed to your chest to try to soothe your palpitations.

"i have a question," hyuck starts, blinking at you.

"nope, no way," jeno points his finger at him, immediately shaking his head, "nuh-uh. you're not allowed to ask questions, that's not fair to me and mark,"

"oh, loosen up, jeno. it's not like you're gonna win, anyway,"

"hyuck, i swear to god-" he threatens, closing his fist.

"alright, alright. no questions, then." hyuck rolls his eyes and turns to you, giving you a small smile, "just tap me if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, okay? i'll stop."

one of your eyebrows comes up in confusion, but hyuck is already staring at your lips and licking his own.

he leans in slowly, pausing for only a moment to meet your eyes, then letting your lips connect.

1 second...

ironically, his approach tells you that he's the shyest of the three. his lips are gentle, barely pushing against yours. and just when you think he's gonna deepen the kiss, he pulls away.

then, he does it again: kisses you, and pulls away.

2 seconds...

his lips are ghosting yours, hovering just a centimeter above, and just when you suspect he'll do it again, he takes you by surprise.

his lips mold into and work against yours, roughly, desperately, not pulling away this time or hesitating in the slightest. his pace is somewhere between jeno's fast one and mark's slow one; it was right in the middle. he's rough and messy and greedy, tasting your lips smugly, which he's secretly wanted to do for a while.

simultaneously, a set of cold fingers tickle your waist, brushing up under your shirt until it rides up, the material left to rest under your breasts. his hands slide along your skin until he's holding you in his arms, grabbing onto your waist and squeezing your skin in his hands.

alright, perhaps he's not the shyest.

4 seconds...

your arms cling to his neck and dive into the nape of his hair as his tongue slips into your mouth, progressively exploring more of you.

his breath is mixing with your own, small pants fanning your face, arms tightening around you when you start to mirror his desperation.

7 seconds...

you need to feel him closer, far too worked up after all the kissing and touching tonight. he seems to get the memo, because one of his hands moves up to hold your head, laying you back until your head hits the pillow.

hyuck props himself up above you, not letting his lips leave yours for longer than it takes to gasp for a short breath, even neglecting himself of air it meant soaking up every last second of you.

10 seconds...

he's too giddy, too excited, hands grabbing at the bare skin on your sides.

"time." jeno calls out.

hyuck drowns out jeno's voice with a muffled whine that he releases into your mouth, continuing to kiss you for as long as he can.

"dude, dude. time's up." mark urges, patting the bed beside you guys. even then, his efforts go unnoticed.

it isn't until jeno literally pulls hyuck off by his shoulder that you guys stop making out and you return to reality.

"that was like 12 seconds, hyuck." jeno grumbles, narrowing his eyes.

"oh, sucks to suck, jeno. you should've made your kiss more memorable if you were worried that-"

"I'll literally beat your ass-"

"stop bickering, both of you!" you groan, holding your hands out.

that seems to silence them rather quickly, all three boys looking at you with eyes full of anticipation.

you clear your throat, at last able to catch your breath, "okay, that was... interesting." you voice out, barely above a whisper. now that they’re all focusing on you, you’re slightly embarrassed to face them. you could feel your cheeks burning, mind bustling with thoughts as you recall each experience.

hyuck snorts, "yeah it was." but you ignore him, fanning your face with your hands to cool it down.

"i don't know where to start."

"well, you can walk us through your thoughts," mark nods patiently.

"yeah, okay. um... they were… they were all very different." you breathe, casting your glance down to the ground. their silence is your cue to continue, “they were all good, really good. and i hate that i’m admitting that, but it’s true.”

“right, but one of them had to be better right? like, according to the rubric?” jeno insists, perking his head up.

“honestly, i don’t know. I think you all got a perfect score as far as the general score goes… none of you were sloppy or bad or whatever. they were all good kisses.”

mark nods understandingly, “so, who would win according to your personal preference?”

you look between them all for a moment, “you guys won’t be mad?”

“no,” they all agree.

“regardless of what I say, you guys won’t be mad? at me or at each other?” you rephrase suspiciously, raising your eyebrow.

with a little more hesitance, they reply, “…no”

“alright,” you purse your lips, sensing your following words were probably the best way to go, “then i’ve decided. no one wins.”

hyuck chokes on air, “woah, woah-“

“wait, what?”

“that’s not fair-“ jeno argues.

you shrug your shoulders, “i liked them all. can’t pick, sorry.”

jeno shakes his head quickly, looking at the other two boys with annoyance, “there has to be one you liked even a little bit more,”

“nope,” you insist.

mark looks slightly disappointed, though he doesn’t seem to be as affected as jeno or hyuck, who both look distraught, like this is the worst news they’ve gotten all week.

hyuck holds a hand to his chest, “y/n, please, you have to pick. i know it’s me, just admit it-”

“you have to choose, i refuse to lose to this moron-“

sitting up straight, you cross your arms stubbornly, “fine, then i pick mark.”

“YES- wait what?!” hyuck snaps his head over to you, mouth agape.

mark looks up, eyes widening, “me?”

“for good sportsmanship.” you affirm, shooting him a small smile. jeno and hyuck erupt into complains and protests, eventually divulging into an argument with each other. fed up, jeno reaches over to smack hyuck over the head, and the two run outside, chasing and yelling after one another.

mark, who is left to look at you in shock, blinks twice in your direction, “so, was mine actually your favorite?”

“maybe, maybe not,” you smile slyly, “I was just tired of dealing with those two.” you point at the door.

mark laughs nervously, running a hand through his hair, “tell me about it.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

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misskingshit · 1 year

Text

𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺 summary: Being a Na'vi, you completely forbade yourself from feeling any kind of affection for the strange creature, but Jake won't give up. Note: It’s me again, it’s been a long time, i’m sorry i didn’t post anything (I don't really know why I apologize, probably nobody cares and nobody is reading this) but i’m here! Am I sick of finding a living being (not human, almost animal) that is blue and non-existent incredibly attractive? yes, but I don't care, he is HOT. xoxo

"Why are you following me Jake?" you asked without stopping on your way to the forest. Your thick accent was impossible to ignore, English was still not your forte.

"Me? I don't do anything, just learning" he answers, playing dumb.

"Following me like a lost pet?" You turned to face him, even so, a smile was plastered on your face.

"Where did you learn that phrase? It's used where I come from… not here" he looks at you strangely. It was true, not a saying the Na'vi used.

"I got to meet your...human friend, Norm, he's a bit weird but he knows a lot about these lands, it's interesting" you said, the fact that these strange beings are finally interested in learning about you and that they take the time to study everything about your home made you feel good and you were excited to hear everything.

"Do you spend time with him now?" Jake asked looking at the ground, brushing past you as he started walking again.

"He gets very close to me and says he likes me, I don't see the problem" you raised your shoulders a little, now you are the one who follows Jake.

"Yes, he likes you too much" you hear a small whisper.

"What?" questions.

A sigh on his part makes you very alert to the situation, not understanding what was happening "where I come from there is something called codes" he says "I think he is forgetting, maybe I should help him remember" Jake squeezes shortly his jaw, although you couldn't see it since he kept walking, turning his back on you.

"Codes? what kind of codes?" poor naive you were.

"He shouldn't get too close to you, much less tell you how much he likes you."

"Why shouldn't he?"

"Because I already like you, are the rules" he replies.

"Those are stupid rules, I don't get it, I like you too like I also like Norm or Dr. Grace, that doesn't mean I can't get close to them..." you stop when you see the abrupt way in which Jake stops his step and turns to talk to you.

"You don't understand, you don't understand the way I like you, it's… different" he says seriously.

"Why are you angry?" you ask, now you are a little more serious.

"It's called being jealous! I'm jealous! You don't understand" he raised his voice a little.

"I don't get it! I'm not of your race and I never will be! You and I are not the same!" You try to escape but he quickly stops you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, let me explain" he holds you "I like you, the way my heart races when you're around, like when I'm in my real body counting every second to come back and find you again, the way The one where you make this place feel like home to me," he confesses.

"like... like tsaheylu? That's what you say...".

Jake laughs slightly and caresses your cheek with one hand "yes, that's what I mean, the bond" your eyes widen "and I can't stand that the weirdo scientist approaches you because I want you for myself, I couldn't bear to lose you" he meets your foreheads.

The seconds in silence that seemed like centuries to him were killing him little by little, fear was eating him up inside.

"Jake...no, we can't..." he interrupted, again.

"Why?".

"Too many things, our path is not connected, you are temporary here" you start "sooner or later you will have to return to your real body...".

"That is not true, our way is our way, we decide it, the rest is solved later".

His hearts beat a thousand, it was something mutual, they both loved each other, but more than anything you were aware of all the obstacles that stood in their way, but Jake was willing to fight until his last breath to make their paths become one. only.

"Just, let me show you that it can be done" he leans closer to you.

You don't even doubt it, you already know you want it, but the fear is still there.

"I want the bond with you Jake."

———

This is not what i had in my mind, im sorry, this sucks.

I promise next one it’s gonna be better.

(English is not my native lenguage so im sorry for any mistake)

#avatar #pandora #jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully smut #avatar x reader #na’vi x reader #na’vi

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mistydeyes · 1 year

Text

a panacea

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pan·a·ce·a noun

a solution or remedy for all difficulties or diseases.

summary: In pharmacy school, patient interaction was a core part of the curriculum. You tirelessly remember long, coffee-fueled nights going over your notes for each Professional Practice Skills class. The 141 boys make sure you can exercise these communication skills daily.

141's medical file reference

pairing: Task Force 141 x pharmacist!Reader

warnings: medical/pharmacy terminology, medical inaccuracies, swearing, depiction of wounds and needles, fluff, flirting, and mutual crushes

a/n: i'm an american pharmacy student so sorry for some inaccuracies about how pharmacy across the pond

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As you walked into the pharmacy and began your shift, you paged through a few recent scripts and checked in with your technicians. Your graduation from university, years of clinical experience, and now your more recent military training seemed like a distant memory. You would constantly see a variety of service men and women every day without much thought. Yes, there were some repeat individuals but overall everything seemed to blend.

Despite this, you still attempted to form a meaningful interaction with each patient regardless of what they’d be picking up. Doctors were constantly bothersome with questions about the recommended treatment and asking for a drug not listed on the formulary. Patients were different though, you would always try to have a friendly conversation and wonder what missions they would be deployed on once they left the queue. As you prepared to work through today’s prescriptions and tackle a new medication supply, you reminded yourself that today was filled with a new set of faces to meet.

price

The members of 141 were all too familiar with a distant employment in a foreign country. It was part of the job description, something you do without question. However, some countries had the luxury of also having medication to take for the duration of the trip. Malaria is no joke and you always had to ensure you ordered an abundant supply of antimalarials for the soldiers constantly going around the world.

Today was no exception, your new order had literally been flying off the shelves. It was the post-breakfast rush and you had a few boxes left of atovaquone/proguanil (Malarone). Although the frequency of taking these was a pain, you loved the easy verification and packaging of the box.

As you continued to provide the queue with their prescriptions, a familiar face and hat made its way to the front.

"Ah Captain Price, back again?" you grinned as he approached the counter.

"Back too soon," the man chuckled, the deep baritone of his laugh bouncing across the walls. "I believe I have a couple of things to pick up from you, love."

With that, you pulled his file up and confirmed his array of medications. Generally, nothing out of the ordinary you noted and acknowledged the new addition of Malarone.

"Yes just give me a moment," you replied as you went to grab his bag.

As the bottles rattled around in the bag, you took a peek and counted the correct number of bottles/boxes, and verified their appearance.

"Now are you going for leisure or work? I saw the newest order for an antimalarial." Secretly you knew the answer but there was always the possibility that the Captain was going on leave.

He let out another small chuckle, "I think you know the answer to that one, doll. Duty calls."

You smiled back, the small inclusion of pet names brightening your day. "Alright then, and I'm assuming you know the regimen. This isn't your first rodeo."

"Yeah, take one for the next day, every day there, and for the week when I get back." You hummed in agreement with his response and he gave you a quick thanks before turning to go.

"Oh but while you're here, any interest in some smoking cessation recommendations!" Like before, you knew the answer. This man was loyal to his country and even more loyal to his cigars. The air filled with the fragrance of musk and cigar smoke whenever he came in definitely made an impression on you.

With this last comment, he let out a final, breathy laugh before responding, "You are many things, Captain, but that's a fucking miracle I don't believe you can pull off."

soap

Infections were no surprise to you. Especially working in the military, there was plenty of incidence for it. Most of the time and even after the doctor patched them up and directed them on proper care, there would still be a select few that would return with an infection.

The rest of the morning was quiet, you were able to catch up on some documentation and had time to pop into the medical wing to provide your pharmacist expertise. That's why when everyone's favorite Scot came by to pick up his antibiotic you didn't mind the company.

"Hi gorgeous, I'm here because of some doc's slipshod job stitching me up." He beamed as he raised his forearm to reveal new stitches and a clearly red, inflamed area. You quickly pulled up his file and your suspicions of an infection were confirmed.

"Sure, MacTavish. I completely believe that the medic specifically botched yours out of the whole team," you sarcastically replied. You served multiple tours with the "guilty" medic and knew they were of equal expertise to you. There was a reason they were performing surgeries while you provided insight and the medication. "I also trust you managed to keep the wound clean and didn't do anything stupid like, I don't know, training instead of resting," you finished as you raised an eyebrow.

He looked like a child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "Ah good one, Doc, I guess nothing is getting past you."

"Mhmm, I'll make you think twice about negatively referring to my colleagues. And again, you know I'm not a doctor. If I were, you know I wouldn't be so willing to stitch you up and send you on your way" you jokingly threatened. He shuddered slightly, he wouldn't want to imagine a world where you were his medic on the battlefield. But then again, his constant injuries would mean frequent visits.

"But I would get to see that gorgeous face of yours more," he joked and you could feel your face flush. His flirty antics and your eye rolls were a staple of this relationship.

"Do you talk to everyone this way?" you countered, "I bet your superiors love the constant flow of compliments and just blush at your tone."

"Oh yes, they do. My Lieutenant turns into a giggling mess underneath his mask. Do you know he's bloody handsome under that? You should try flooding him with pet names and admiration to see for yourself." He responded, a clear sarcasm in his voice evident even with his familiar accent.

"Will do, MacTavish. Now will you let me get your medication so I can return you to your loverboy?"

"Of course, Captain" he saluted exaggeratedly as you walked to the rows of shelves.

You opened the bag and then placed the verified medication into his hand. "You know the routine and for the love of God, please finish the amount in here. I don't want to be seeing another order for Augmentin from you any time soon!"

"Yes, love, but nothing can stop this machine from gathering more illnesses and wounds requiring your expert care." You rolled your eyes as he explained and gave a cocky gesture showcasing his chiseled injured body.

"Don't mess with me, you know I can easily sneak my way into the med ward and make sure you go nighty-night." You were bluffing, the Hippocratic oath painfully engraved in your mind. But it didn't hurt to joke back.

"Oh I'll be sure to watch out for you, scary legal drug dealer." With this last jab, he walked out and left you chuckling to yourself at his antics.

gaz

The flowers and trees were in full bloom around the base. It reminded you of the days studying outside and crying over learning your Year 2 immunology coursework. However, just like immunology, pollen just made your job more difficult. It seemed like the scripts for nasal sprays and allergy medication were endless. Day after day you would go to work with your technician as you helped their workload by filling the myriad of prescriptions.

Following the quiet lunch hour, the pharmacy quickly became flooded with people. As a younger soldier presented to your counter, you could immediately guess what they were here for.

Although he was not one of your repeat offenders, his watery eyes and the constant flow of sniffles made it clear that he was another victim of the unrelenting pollen.

“Garrick, Kyle,” he said and you couldn’t help but feel bad for him as he stood there a sniffling mess. You typed his name in and checked his credentials as he turned to sneeze.

“Ah yes, you have a nasal spray and another prescription here. Just give me a moment.” You walked away from the counter as you heard him chuckle and call out, “You wouldn’t happen to have a panacea back there would you?”

“Unfortunately I do not,” you said and frowned upon your return, “But just take these once a day with water and use the nasal spray as needed. One puff in each nose should do the trick and don’t forget to shake it!” You explained. Holding the small container of pills you noted, "Plus this is Piriteze, so you won't feel tired after taking but I usually recommend taking a half hour before you know you're going outside or having any interaction with pollen."

He nodded in agreement and took out a tissue to blow his nose for the hundredth time today. This action didn't relieve his congestion. Allergies were really the bane of everyone's existence and you felt for him as he let out a couple of sneezes and apologized.

As he took the bag you gently said, “Sometimes something spicy really clears everything out. Spice has the benefit of being both delicious and working as a decongestant. You’ll definitely need some tissues but it’s worth it in my opinion.” With that, you offered a wink and sent him on his way.

"You're truly an angel. I'll be sure to update you, love," he beamed at you with a dashing smile. You would be flattered if it had not been for his subsequent barrage of sneezes.

A few days later, a pleased Gaz returned to you and explained your life hack had worked. One half bottle of hot sauce later and he had been congestion free. Brushing your astonishment at his spice tolerance aside, you explained that it had been just the medicine. However, Gaz would soon be giving everyone an earful of your non-conventional methods. Although his mates constantly joked about the image of him drowning in snot (a picture gracefully captured by Soap), he was thankful for you, the pretty pharmacist, and the help.

ghost

You could feel the headache forming from the fluorescent lights and the busy day you were currently having. This morning new missions called for you to enforce the regimen of taking antimalarials and in the afternoon, returning soldiers required pain medication and antibiotics (although you were thankful these were tablets and not through IVs). However, this was no challenge to you and you were further encouraged by the recent positive interactions you’d been having.

Just as you stepped away for a water break, your desktop notified you of a patient awaiting their prescription. You sighed and walked over to see the patient file as well as what medication they’d be receiving today.

You read the name carefully and slowly, partially because of your tiredness as well as your irrational fear of giving the patient the wrong medication.

“Riley, Simon” you mumbled and kept repeating the name as you walked amongst the rows of bags to retrieve the medication.

Just some routine painkillers. You examined the container to verify the oval, white pills of paracetamol.

As you notified the waiting soldier, your computer showed a reminder that they were due for a flu shot. You smiled, immunizations were often done routinely through a clinic but sometimes, you would get a break from your day and be able to administer one.

You acknowledged the reminder just as the soldier walked up. Tall, brooding, and donning a unique balaclava, you presumed this was Simon Riley. Your earlier conversation with Soap made you realize that this was the man who put up with all of his antics. You wondered if the paracetamol was for an injury or his raging headache from his Sergeant.

Recognizing his rank, you greeted him warmly and went to verify his patient credentials. He was a quiet man, only replying to your necessary prompts. This further added evidence that the medication was because of Soap, the chatterbox that he is. As you handed over his prescription, you let him know the bad news.

“Unfortunately, you are due for a flu shot but I can have you out of here in less than 15 minutes if you’d like?” you smiled, "or you could always just have me refer you out to get it while you're on leave."

"I'll do it now, don't know the next time I'd be returning," he spoke lowly. You wondered where he would be off to next as he pocketed the medication and nodded in agreement.

You motioned for him to sit in the designated area and prepared the necessary materials. As you walked over to the vaccine area now occupied by the large man, you positioned yourself to the side of him. You performed your typical routine of verifying the prescription and noting the necessary numbers before you felt the need to break the silence.

“You know, I used to be terrified of these as a child. I hope you didn’t have the same experience, Lieutenant,” you chuckled as you began to clean his bicep. You admired the tattoo on his right arm, so intricate and beautiful.

“I’ve had much worse, trust me,” he replied and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. Well, I guess the man of few words has a sense of humor.

“That’s good to hear! You wouldn’t imagine the number of recruits that squirm even before I’ve begun to prep their arm. I thought all that training taught you guys to be tough.” With this, you both laughed and you began to position your hand ensuring the needle was going into the proper area.

You felt him slightly tense under your touch but you gave him a reassuring pat on the hand. You knew as a child that the best way was to finish the vaccine before they even had time to react.

“You can hold my hand if you’d like,” you joked, not realizing that he was pink under his mask. "Or you could be a good little soldier and I might give you a lolly" you continued further, teasing the man. He was so glad to have the safety of concealment as you were really rubbing it in. He waved you off with his other hand and you went about a quick administration.

“See that’s not so bad,” you smiled and you went to apply a bandage. Unfortunately, you realized you were out of your typical issued bandaids and quickly grabbed a colorful, neon star one.

He glanced down and responded with a low, “What the hell is that?”

“I’m sorry it’s the only one I have at the moment, but you should be able to take it off before bed tonight!” you apologized and you fastened it onto his strong bicep.

Little did you know that your small talk and neon bandage had endeared you to the Lieutenant. Your reassuring touch and soft actions made him believe you’d be a better fit for a position in pediatrics than here. Although he would have to explain the ridiculous stars, he found himself wanting to get all of his vaccines from you.

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first time writing and posting here in like forever! hope you enjoyed this mw2 content :)

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thinkingotherwise · 29 days

Note

I’ve recently gotten into Wind Breaker myself! It’s hard to find blogs who are into it, so far, so I was excited to see you do!!♡

If you don’t mind, may I request Sugishita and Sakura (separately) coming to terms that they have a crush? And and, said crush is also a secret admirer of theirs. The mutual pining… how long would it take for them to spill the beans, or would reader have to take it into their own hands? All the fluff ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶

Thank you so much!♡have a great day!

I'm very happy that Wind Breaker is becoming more and more popular, it's really good and I can't wait for next chapters and episodes to come.

The both of them are so awkward, that they would certainly need some help to make them realize someone has a crush on them.

Kyotaro Sugishita, Haruka Sakura x Secret Admirer! reader

Kyotaro Sugishita

Kyotaro got to know he had a secret admirer because of Tsubakino. It was they who saw the little snacks and notes appearing in the younger boy's locker. He didn't tell anyone about it because he honestly didn't know what to make of them and so Tsubakino had to help him realize that the gifts he received were given to him by someone who clearly had feelings for him. It was evident, especially by the sweet notes.

That got him thinking, about the possibility of someone liking him, and that made his feelings all confused because there was someone who already had a piece of his heart for themselves. Kyotaro liked you, and he came to that conclusion all by himself. You were usually helping out Kotoha in the afternoon, buying her stuff, and being a waitress whenever more clients appeared. He found you really adorable with the apron on and the small smiles you sent everyone.

He had the biggest problem of his teenage lifetime to solve, even worse than the fights, because he started liking you and now there was someone who was leaving him all these notes, meaning he had someone who liked him. Kyotaro didn't know what to do and how to resolve the "love triangle" he found himself in.

How his heart felt lighter when one day he saw you sneaking into the school and leaving the very familiar snacks and notes in his shoe locker. "Oh my, what is that, Kyo?" His hiding spot got exposed when Tsubakino stood behind him and noticed you near the locker. "(Y/n)!" You felt a shiver running through you as you quickly turned toward the familiar voice of your senpai.

They called after you and when your eyes met their and Kyotaro's you became alerted and flustered. You wanted to get away but you were frozen by the uneasy feeling and embarrassment of getting caught. It was then that he got to understand you were his secret admirer and it was you who got him all those snacks and notes, and that the "love triangle" situation was resolved like that.

Kyotaro let out a sigh clearly relaxing as his gaze was still stuck on you, then like a lightning bolt his cheeks became red. Your senpai cooed at that swinging from side to side with a wide smile on their face.

Cheering you on they pushed Kyotaro in your direction making him almost smash into you but he stopped just inches from you. "Do you... want to go... out?" He asked clearly confused about what exactly to do. You nodded your head quickly muttering 'yes' in agreement and Tsubakino cheered loudly saying they would immediately tell Umemiya about this. Hearing that Kyotaro became even more flushed and you lightly chuckled at his expression.

Haruka Sakura

You fell in love with him the moment you saw him protecting the townsfolk from some gangs. His fighting style was amazing and so eye-catching and his confidence was really doing something to you. After that, you saw him more and more often, with his friends on patrol, eating some food in a nearby cafe, or helping others and fighting. Then you started hearing things he and his friends were talking about, it's not like you were eavesdropping on them on purpose, it's just they were quite loud and you were nearby.

You heard that he wasn't eating well, so you took it upon yourself to leave him small fruit bentos or juices. You thought keeping him healthy would benefit not only you seeing him stronger but also others as he'd have more energy. Yes, that certainly was your reason too also start adding some notes whenever you saw him beating someone up, saying how cool he looked.

Suou and Nirei saw the gifts and after talking things through with Haruka, who blushed all the time and told them they were saying bullshit, they started seeking out a person who could leave them on his door handle.

After several days they noticed you always staying nearby and carefully watching Haruka with amazement in your eyes. His friends pointed you out making him flushed because you were pretty, like really pretty in his eyes and you admired him for his fighting style. He then experienced the same phenomenon as you did with him, Sakura started seeing you more frequently around town, sometimes trying to protect people and helping around. Even though he knew it was you who left him the healthy bentos, he was scared to confront you and tell you he also liked you.

Then one day he opened the doors because he heard something scratching at them, only to be face to face with you, who was hanging the small fruit bento on his handle. "Umm.." You took the gift back from the handle and looked startled at Haruka. He was as surprised as you not knowing what to do his gaze fell on you then on the bento and again on you. His face became more flushed with every second.

"You- the fruits- note." He stuttered out nervously but then turned away quickly composing himself before meeting your gaze. "You are the one to leave the fruits and notes, right?" He said and you decided that it was a "now or never" moment. "Yes, I'm (Y/n) and I really admire you and your fighting skills, and if you'd agree I want to go out with you. Please." You confessed in one breath pushing the fruit bento in your hands in front of him and bowing.

The silence was evident and you became worried. As you raised your head you saw Haruka bright red with his hand covering half his face as the other gripped the doors. He gulped loudly before he replied. "Actually, I wanted to ask you out to thank you for all the food." His voice was shaky from nerves as he took the bento from your hands. "Yes, of course!" You said loudly and then coughed and corrected yourself. "It would be my pleasure."

Tags: @misticbullet

#wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker (satoru nii) x reader #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker #kyotaro sugishita x reader #haruka sakura x reader

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the-modern-typewriter · 1 year

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Hello :) Can i request a mutually pining hero x villain piece where the hero finds out about the horrible treatment the villain goes through in prison (whenever the villain gets locked up) and they have an emotional confrontation where the hero apologizes and promises to fix the situation? a little bit of holding the villain's chin and asking them how much it hurts? just the heartwrenching stuff.

Whether you see this or not, I want to say thank you for everything you've shared with us. You are extremely talented, and an inspiration for people who want to improve their writing. Thank you, thank you. :') <3

"They hurt you."

The villain stilled. They kept their gaze fixed on the sky, their hands focused on the ember of a cigarette clutched between their fingers, their ears tracking the thump of music spilling out onto the street.

Inevitably, despite all of those efforts, their attention locked on the hero standing next to them.

Fury radiated from the hero, and something more. They didn't have to glance over to see it. They didn't have to glance over at all when the hero edged even closer to them, brow knitted, eyes liquid guilt in the pooling streetlight.

The villain took another drag of their cigarette to steady themselves, filthy habit though it was, before exhaling. "We're not doing this here."

The thin alley behind the club was empty except for the two of them, but that was hardly the point. The air was warm with the promise of summer and freedom. They didn't want to think about any else.

"Where are we doing it then?" the hero demanded.

The villain's jaw clenched. They stubbed out the smoke and began to turn away.

In an instant, the hero's hand was firm on their shoulder, pinning them in place. By all rights, if things in the world made sense, the villain should have flinched at the rough touch and the hero should have recoiled. The villain didn't flinch. The hero wouldn't hurt them, not like that. They knew it in their bones.

The hero didn't recoil. They ducked their head to try and catch the villain's eyes again.

The villains scoffed and slid their gaze away, throat tight.

"I want to fix it," the hero said. "This should never - if I'd known -"

"-You didn't know." It was forgiveness and accusation all at once.

"I should have."

"You didn't."

The hero had always been kind, in their interactions, in the complicated way that the two of them could be kind to each other. Not polite, not nice, not civil. But kind. Of course they hadn't known, and of course the villain hadn't told them. They would never have told them. Not in case, just in case, the hero had actually known all along. Not in case, just in case, the hero didn't care. Not in case, just in case, the hero thought they deserved it.

"You going to let me go free next time?" the villain asked.

The hero's jaw clenched too. "I'm not going to let them treat you like - like -"

"Like a criminal? You can say it. That's what I am."

"Like a monster."

The villain smiled. It didn't quite reach their eyes, but nor was it ungenuine. "Also what I am."

The hero's other hand shot out, seizing the villain's chin, forcing their gazes to lock. "No."

"Yes." The villain studied them. "Don't be obvious."

"You deserve better."

"Because you don't think I'm a monster?"

"Even if you are," the hero whispered. "And I'm sorry. I'm just - so sorry."

The villain didn't know what to say to that. The hero's sincerity, raw as an open wound, floored them utterly. They swallowed, pulse fluttering against the warm press of the hero's palm.

Contact. Firm, unflinching, not unkind contact.

"How much does it hurt?" the hero asked.

"This or the - before?"

The hero let go instantly, hand flying back to their side as if they'd been burnt.

The villain's hand rose to where the hero's hand had been, chasing the memory of it. The words 'you didn't hurt me' perched on the tip of their tongue. The villain swallowed them.

"I'm going to end up back there," the villain said. "You can't fix that, because you're the one that catches me. The only one who can."

"If you stopped..."

"If you stopped," the villain said.

The hero squeezed their eyes shut for a second, pained.

The villain reached out, despite themselves, to grip the hero's chin. Feather-light. "How much does it hurt?"

The hero laughed, a little raspy, a little not laughing at all. "This should never have happened."

"It happens to more than just me." I'm just the one you care about. The knowledge was as dizzying, as giddying and heady, as it was awful.

"If I asked you to tell me what they did to you, would you?" the hero asked.

"You already know."

The isolation. The power restraints that were always cinched a little too tight. The beatings. It was always better near the end of their sentence, to allow time for the bruises to heal, and it was never anything permanent. Nothing that could be used in a court of law. Nothing but words and hearsay.

"Yes." The hero watched them.

"But you want me to tell you anyway."

"Yes."

The villain dropped their hand and itched for another cigarette, and itched to continue touching even more. They turned their gaze away again and cleared their throat, because the hero's expression...

The villain had been hurt so many times before. The hero made it look new.

"I'll fix it," the hero said, less a wish or a want and more a promise. "This won't happen again. Not to you. Not to anyone."

The villain knew better than most that promises were easily-broken, fragile things. Still.

"What do you think I've been trying to do?"

The hero flinched.

The villain didn't recoil. Monsters didn't get to recoil from the worst that the world had to offer.

They started walking, and paused at the end of the alley where the shadows turned to light and life and the open world. They glanced back to where the hero stood, perfectly still and perfectly shattered, hands flexing like they were itching to touch again too.

Sometimes monsters got kind things too, even if it made no sense, even if what was theirs felt like it should belong to everyone else in a thousand different ways.

"We're not doing this here," the villain called out. "So. You coming?"

The hero followed.

The villain knew they always would.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #writing #story #angst #writing snippet #hero and villain #villain and hero

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milksnake-tea · 8 months

Note

hello my favorite star rail writer i am back bc i saw you reached 1k followers (CONGRATS BTW I DIDNT SEE EARLIER BC I STARTED CLASSES) and im a sucker for mutual pining its sickening to see two ppl so in love and blade, so blade + fluff prompt 10 would be amazing :D

extra points if mc isnt a fellow stellaron hunter, like in my head reader is sighing dreamily while march 7th is all "thats a wanted criminal"

❀ ˎˊ- prompts: You two have been pining over each other for God knows how long, and your friends are sick of it. ❀ ˎˊ- 1k followers event ❀ ˎˊ- character: blade ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: none! just fluff :D ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: IM SORRY THE LAST PART MADE ME LAUGH SO BAD GOODBYE I LOVE THAT !!! also..... IT GOT KINDA CRACK IM SORRY GOODBYE IT'S LESS PINING MORE DAN HENG BEING DISAPPOINTED IN YOU

It wasn't often that Blade strayed outside the mission.

Just as the sword he wielded, Blade cut through his missions with precise cuts, following Elio's script like law. While Kafka and Silver Wolf would take liberties with their scripts, going off to shop or to fight, Blade stayed at his designated spot, staring blankly at the clock until he was called upon once more. He never did more, never did less.

So to see him gazing off into the distance, a hint of a smile on his face, was definitely out of the ordinary.

"What's on your mind, Bladie?" Kafka asked, her pupil-less eyes peering at her partner from behind her drink. "It's rare to see you so... restless. Has the mara been bothering you?"

Blade shook his head, a disgruntled sigh escaping him. His gaze reached past Kafka, focusing on the silhouette of your person as you chatted away with Dan Heng.

Kafka hummed, tilting her head as she played with her straw, mindlessly stirring her beverage. "Hm... Then is it them?"

Blade's fingers stilled. Kafka smiled, knowing she had hit the spot.

"So it is," she mused, stifling a giggle as Blade shot her an annoyed look.

"They're talking to him," Blade muttered, laying his hand flat against the table. Surprisingly, the mara did not strike, nor did Blade become irritated. His voice was gentle, soft like the breeze.

"Indeed they are," Kafka took a sip, licking her lips at the burn of alcohol. "Do you wish that was you, Bladie?"

Her teasing wasn't lost on the man, but he didn't bother with a reply.

"No," Blade murmured, resting his head in the palm of his hand. The artificial sunlight of the Xianzhou bathed you in a heavenly glow, your carefree laughter a sweet symphony. "I wouldn't dare disturb such beauty."

And yet, it seemed as though fate had glanced his way, just as you had. Your eyes met with his, and you smiled, waving at him. Blade's heart thudded in his chest, and for a moment, life returned to him.

His hand twitched, wanting to return your greetings, but the rough drag of his bandages stopped him. Blade averted his gaze, hiding his slowly flushing skin behind his palm.

Kafka snickered at his predicament, quickly snapping a photo of his flustered state and sending it to the other Stellaron Hunters. Instantaneously, Silver Wolf sent back a vomiting emoji, while Sam excitedly congratulated Blade on his newfound emotions. Elio didn't reply, he never does.

"Aren't you adorable," she cooed, turning her phone off and tucking it away. "You know, I doubt they'll mind if you just walked up to them."

Yes, you certainly wouldn't mind. However, your very disturbed friends would.

"What are you doing?" Dan Heng hissed as you waved to the Hunter, grabbing your wrist and snatching it down. "You know how dangerous that man is."

"But isn't he so cute?" you chuckled, the tips of your ears flushed. "Besides, he hasn't done anything to hurt me yet."

"Yet being the operative word," Dan Heng sighed in exasperation. "I hope you didn't forget how he threw a sword through me."

"I try not to think about it." You stretched back your arms. "Don't get your tail in a twist, Dan Heng. I'm just being friendly."

"That's not what your face says," Dan Heng commented, poking your cheek. "I can still see you mooning over him."

"I am not- mooning over him!" you objected, swatting his finger away. "I was just... thinking."

"Of course you are. Thinking of the man who stabbed me, that is."

"And he looked good doing it- Dan Heng!" you yelped as Dan Heng elbowed you. Your friend only crossed his arms, raising a brow at you as you glared at him. "Alright, alright, fine. I just- I know I shouldn't like him, but..."

"There's a but in this?"

"His arms are really toned, okay? Have you seen his muscles?"

Dan Heng gagged, pretending to throw up over the railing. "Far closer than I'd like to admit- Point being, he's a wanted criminal."

You stared blankly at him. "So?"

Dan Heng stared back. "What do you mean, 'so'?"

"I can fix him."

The only words you could use to describe Dan Heng's face was pure disappointment. Swiftly, he turned on his heel, and promptly walked away from you, quickening his steps as you chased after him.

"Hey! Where're you going so quickly-"

Dan Heng stopped for only a moment, his expression unreadable as he glanced back at you. "I don't talk to people who kiss wanted criminals."

You held up a finger. "To be fair, I haven't kissed him yet-"

"I'm leaving."

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai blade #hsr blade #blade x reader #honkai blade x reader #hsr blade x reader #x reader #reader insert #y/n #archives 🏵️#event 🏵️

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ecliphttlunar · 25 days

Text

More Than Friends - Chris Sturniolo

Summary: One night at a restaurant, you finally realize your best friend's feelings for you. During the exchanged looks and affectionate gestures, they reveal the mutual desire that had existed for a long time. Revealing your feelings creates a climate of tension and passion between the two of you. But you had known you were more than friends for a while now.

Warnings: jealousy, friends who are not just friends, cute, declarations of love, kisses, hugs, tickling

Author's notes: This is my work, I do not authorize any plagiarism, copying or “inspiration”. English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

You looked in the mirror for what seemed like the tenth time, every hour checking something about your appearance.

If your hair was perfect.

If your left eyeliner was the same as your right one.

If your lipstick wasn't smudged.

If your clothes were good.

You had to look pretty tonight. Because of two things.

First, you wanted to feel beautiful, you wanted to look in the mirror and think, "shit, I look hot." You wanted to feel good.

And second, you wanted him to think you were beautiful. You wanted him to look at you all night.

In fact, you needed it. Because she would be there.

Your "friend" would be in this restaurant together with you and Chris, of course, her presence in itself wasn't what bothered you, she was fun and a good person, what really made you want to rip out her hair strand by strand, is that she wanted him.

You knew that the only reason she approached you was because she wanted to get closer to him.

You knew from the beginning what her intentions were.

But you never cared. Because she never did anything about her relationship with Chris.

Until a week ago, where you, Chris, Matt, Nick, Nate, Madi, Tara and her were gathered in the living room to watch a movie.

You noticed her getting closer and closer to him, trying to touch her skin with his.

You noticed the flirting, the prying eyes, you noticed everything.

So you started to worry.

You started to care.

Making sure you were better than her.

Looking at the mirror again, you analyzed your outfit, you liked it, the outfit was appropriate for the restaurant you were going to.

And the pants were making her ass look incredible.

You smiled.

You were beautiful.

You even wanted to look at yourself more, check some things you hadn't checked yet, but your whole plan went out the window when Tara sent you a message, letting you know she was in front of your house.

So, you grabbed your bag, and went downstairs, heading towards the door.

You made sure the door was locked and went to Tara's car, getting into the passenger seat.

"Okay, you look hot." She said as soon as she saw you.

And you felt a little proud of yourself.

"It's not so extreme." You defended yourself.

"Have you ever looked in the mirror?"

Yes, so many times that I lost count.

You laughed, a little embarrassed.

"Por que estamos falando de mim? Você já se olhou no espelho?" Você muda de assunto para ela.

She laughs, starting the car and heading to the restaurant.

You hadn't even been in the car for 10 minutes, and you already regretted your choice of shoes.

As much as they matched the outfit, they were killing your toes.

And Tara seemed to notice her discomfort because soon she was asking if something was wrong.

"Nothing to worry about, just my feet are hurting, these shoes hurt." You told the truth. There was no reason to lie.

"Take them off for now, we still have about 30 minutes to travel until we get to the restaurant."

And now you remembered, the restaurant was 40 minutes from your house.

So, to avoid suffering you followed her advice, and took off your shoes.

The journey to the restaurant was fun, you talked, laughed, sang songs...

And maybe, you thought about him, his eyes, his hair, what clothes he would be wearing...

And in it, would she be more beautiful than you?

Mary was not an ugly girl, on the contrary, she was drop dead gorgeous.

She had a wonderful body, hydrated hair, smooth and soft skin, and her lips seemed so soft.

To say you were getting anxious was an understatement.

You were going crazy.

Until you finally arrived at the restaurant, and entering the parking lot, you could see some of your friends about to enter the restaurant. Including him. But they all stop moving as soon as they see Tara's car.

Probably to enter together with you.

While Tara parked the car, you started to put on your shoes, taking a while because of how little space you had.

As soon as Tara parked the car, she already got out of it, and now, she was waiting for you outside with her friends, talking about something you don't know what it is.

And you felt a bit of shame pass through your body, as all you had to do was get out of the car.

But it wasn't your fault, it was the shoe's fault and the discomfort it brought to your feet.

But you were quick, as soon as you put on your shoes, you got out of the car, not wanting to delay your friends any further.

And you felt everything in slow motion. As if you were in a movie scene.

As soon as you got out of the car, he looked at you and froze, the conversation he was having with Nate immediately forgotten, his lips parted as he winked at you.

He looked you up and down, seeing every detail of you.

From the first strand of hair, to the sole of the shoe.

And God, he felt like he might die at that moment.

He could die, and he would die happy.

As you greeted your friends, he continued looking at you, never looking away.

He was mesmerized by your beauty, you couldn't be real, no, you were some masterpiece made by the gods, or a rare jewel.

But you couldn't be a normal human being.

Now, you were greeting Nate, and Chris seemed to snap out of the world he entered when he realized he was the next one you were going to hug.

He couldn't wait to be able to put his fingers in you, hug your waist, smell your perfume.

“Hi” He whispered as soon as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Hi” You said back, your voice as low as his.

"You look beautiful" He said as soon as you separated.

“You’re not as ugly as I thought you would be either” You smiled at him.

"So, you were thinking about me? I'm flattered" He smiled back at you, and you almost forgot to respond to him as soon as you saw his smile.

He was so beautiful.

You looked so divine.

The two of you just stared at each other, praising each other in your thoughts, and smiling at each other, and your friends just stared at you.

Some smiling, and others disgusted, noticing the atmosphere between the two of you.

You were slowly drowning in the blue ocean of his eyes, until someone saved you.

You turned in the direction you heard the coughing, and you were a little embarrassed for having this moment in front of your friends.

But that always happened when you were with him. It was inevitable.

Chris also looked a little embarrassed as he placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards the entrance of the restaurant.

You sighed at his touch on your back, your heart racing.

Could he hear your heartbeat?

You entered the restaurant and started looking for your other friends, finally finding them at a table.

You sat down, Tara on your right side, Nick on your left side, and Chris in front of you.

And for a moment you began to wonder if Mary wasn't coming.

You didn't see her outside in the parking lot, and she wasn't sitting at the table either.

But your question was soon answered when you saw her come out of the bathroom.

And Gods, she looked so, so, so wonderfully beautiful.

You felt like crap as soon as you saw her.

And everything got worse when she sat next to Chris.

You knew, your night was going to be shit.

You felt a hand on your thigh, and you looked to your right side, Tara.

She smiled slightly at you, trying to reassure you.

You knew she knew about your feelings about Chris.

She was one of your friends who supported you both.

And she knew you were disappointed to see Mary next to Chris.

Seeing how beautiful she looked.

And that's why she made it her mission tonight to make you forget about him and have fun.

And until the middle of the night it was working.

You talked to all your friends, you laughed, you really had fun.

Until you looked ahead and saw her.

She was practically on top of him, talking about something you couldn't hear.

And your smile fell, and a feeling of jealousy filled you.

Until you heard a voice whispering in your ear.

"He's not paying attention to her, he's literally been watching you all night."

You looked at Tara, and then at him.

His blue eyes meet yours.

Did he really not pay attention to Mary?

He was staring at you, looking at your eyes, and your lips.

And you did the same as him, you looked at his blue eyes, and then at his soft lips.

Nate was talking to him, and Chris was simply nodding, never looking away from you.

It felt like the world around you had disappeared and everything was completely silent, and it was just the two of you.

Two people staring at each other, saying they're just friends, when deep down they know, they're more than just friends.

The touches, the looks, the flirting, the time they spend together.

You weren't just friends. Never went.

You sigh and blink.

You stand still, staring at him like an idiot, you realized, now you realized what everyone was telling you.

It was like something clicked, a puzzle, the final missing piece.

All your friends always told you that Chris loved you, it was like a movie, everyone noticed the love between the protagonists, except for themselves.

But now you've seen it.

You always caught him looking at you, always, but one specific day crossed your mind.

When you were recording a video for his channel with his brothers.

Nick had already started the video, you were behind the counter, while Nick was talking about what you were going to do, you were in the middle, between Matt and Chris.

And as always, the urge to look at Chris was stronger, so as Nick spoke, you turned your head to the side to look at him, only to find that he was already looking at you.

Instinctively, you looked away, embarrassed for being caught, and Chris, like you, also turned his head, looking at the camera.

Ashamed as a child who was caught doing something wrong, but of course, a child who never learns his lesson.

You were already looking at him again, when now he turned his head to look at you.

Your eyes met, and as Chris swallowed hard, you smiled awkwardly, turning your head to look straight ahead.

And Chris followed suit, turning his head so fast he felt dizzy.

Until you turned your heads towards each other again, and now, you found the situation funny.

You turned your head forward, trying to hold back your laughter, but Chris kept his eyes on you.

You quickly glanced at him, chuckling softly when you saw he was still looking at you.

You continued exchanging glances until Nick called you, asking you to get a spoon so they could start cooking.

Of course, these exchanges of glances between you weren't just friendship, there was something more.

Friends don't look for each other's eyes when they're in the same room.

And you couldn't forget his attempts to always touch you, even if it was arms touching, he had to touch you in some way.

After exchanging looks, and an angry Nick, for asking for the spoon for the thousandth time, you finally went to do what was asked.

You had your back to the camera, and the disaster behind you, looking for the spoon Nick wanted, but for some reason, you weren't finding it.

Until you felt a somewhat familiar presence behind you, and gentle hands on your arms.

He lets go of your right arm, but keeping his hand on your left arm, as he takes the spoon you were looking for.

He places the spoon in front of you, and soon you take it, your fingers touching his in the process.

You turn to look at him, smiling in thanks.

Your back pressed against his chest.

His hands move up to your shoulders, turning you around, and pushing you lightly towards the counter, where Nick and Matt were waiting for the spoon.

You hand it to Nick.

Now, you were all at the counter watching Nick stir the ingredients, Chris by his side, his hand on the small of your back.

You swallow hard when you remember that moment, how did you not notice?

It was so obvious.

It was always in front of you, these and other signs, but it's as if you had a blindfold over your eyes.

Never seeing the signs.

No matter how obvious they were.

And now, for some reason, it's as if someone has taken off the blindfold, and you're seeing something you've never seen before.

You didn't even notice that you were no longer facing each other, that in fact everyone was getting up from their seats, ready to leave, until someone tapped your shoulder.

"Let's go?" Of course it was him.

"Yes, yes, of course, let's go" You said, getting lost in words, and getting up from your place too quickly, turning around too quickly, trying to take more steps than your feet can.

You just felt your knees giving out, your feet tripping over each other, and you falling.

But you never felt the pain of the fall, you just felt firm arms around your waist, your hands touching a chest that was a little familiar to the touch, and his worried eyes on you.

"Hey, it's okay, slow down, we're not leaving without you." He says laughing a little.

"Yes, I know, of course, I'm fine, thank you." You were already regaining your balance, and leaving his protective arms.

He was confused, not understanding what was happening to you.

To tell the truth, you didn't even know what was happening to you at that moment.

Maybe it was the discovery that there was a chance his feelings could be reciprocated.

Yes, that was definitely it.

Because until just a few minutes ago, there wasn't even 1% of you believing that there was a chance that he saw you the same way you saw him.

But now? All that was missing was his words to confirm that he liked you the same way you liked him.

He was behind you, his hands on your waist guiding you to the register, and you felt like you couldn't breathe.

You were next to pay, and when it was your turn, you just confirmed what you had eaten, taking your card, the price already written on the machine.

As soon as you took your card out of your wallet, about to bring it closer to the machine, another card passed over yours, paying your bill.

You look back, seeing him shake his head and smile at you.

"Could you excuse me, love? I need to pay my bill now." Love? Why did he call you love?

Your mouth was still open as you walked to the side, giving him the space he asked for.

You had your mouth open and your eyes blinking.

"Why did you pay my bill?" You asked bluntly when he turned to look at you.

He just shrugs, placing his hands on your back.

He tried to walk towards the exit, but you remained standing still.

He looks at you, confused.

"Why did you pay my bill?" You ask again.

He just shakes his head. "I was doing you a favor." That's what he says.

"But I didn't ask for it." You counter.

He sighs. "I like doing favors for you, even if you don't ask for them." He shrugs, trying to walk to the exit again.

This time, you let him guide you.

When you were arriving at the exit, Mary appears, talking directly to Chris.

"So, what did you think of the food? Did you like it?" She seemed excited, wanting to talk to Chris, but he didn't seem to care.

The scene, in fact, to anyone, seemed funny to see.

Mary was on the exit side, with her hands clasped in front of her, shyly wanting to talk to Chris, with a friendly smile on her face.

But unlike Mary, you and Chris were uninterested in what she wanted to say, you were facing her, your face serious, one hand holding your bag. And Chris was at your side, a little behind, with his hand on your back, his face also serious, with no sign of interest in what Mary wanted to say.

Mary continued babbling, but soon Chris cut the conversation short.

"Sorry, but Nate is calling us outside, we'll talk later, okay?" He says, already leaving the restaurant, leaving Mary behind.

"Okay, who's leaving with who?" Nick asked.

"I'll take Mary, since we live nearby, you and your brothers can take Y/N, okay?" She says, looking between you and Nick.

Before you could respond, Chris was already speaking for you.

"Sure, fine." He says, smiling at you.

You just shrug your shoulders, letting them decide who goes with who.

And from what you could tell, people would return with the same people they came with, except for you and Mary, who swapped the ride.

And at that moment, you just wanted to kiss Tara's lips for the idea she gave.

God bless her.

You climbed into the Van with Nate, expecting to have Nick by your side, what you didn't expect was to have Chris by your side.

You smile at him confused.

"Why don't you get in the passenger seat?" You ask.

“Nick wanted to go ahead” You nod, still a little suspicious.

"OK." You whisper slowly, brow furrowed.

He just smiles in response.

Maybe you were crazy, maybe it was all in your head, maybe you were seeing things that weren't there, and he just looked at you as a friend.

But that didn't make sense, no.

That's why you were determined to talk to him.

Since you and the boys talked and decided that you would stay at their house tonight, it would be easier to talk to him, when you were alone with Chris, you would talk to him.

And you would see if it was all in your head or not.

If it was... well, you'd cry in your room later.

The journey to the boys' house was incredible, really fun, and you think you laughed more in the 30 minutes you were with them than in the 3 hours you spent in the restaurant.

But when you finally got home, harsh reality slapped you in the face, reminding you of what was to come.

And at that moment, you thought it would be better, to become completely crazy and stay with your best friend.

Than take a chance, and run the risk of losing not just one, but 3 best friends.

But you had already made up your mind, so whether you wanted to or not, you were going to have that conversation with him.

Regardless of the consequence.

As soon as you entered the house and went up the stairs, you started discussing which room you were going to sleep in.

And of course, as luck, or bad luck, was on your side, you stayed in Chris's room.

Especially because all of their things that are in the triplets' house are in Chris's bedroom and bathroom.

You walked down the stairs towards his room, going straight into the bathroom to do your nightly routine.

You took off your makeup, washed your face, brushed your teeth, and changed into your pajamas, which consisted of shorts and a long-sleeved shirt.

When you came out of the bathroom, you saw Chris lying on the bed, just wearing sweatpants, playing on his cell phone.

But as soon as he heard the door open, he looked in your direction, his eyes running down your body, stopping at your thighs, and then moving up to your eyes again.

You threw yourself onto the bed, next to Chris, burying your face in the pillow and letting out a loud sigh.

"Everything is fine?" You heard him ask.

You nod as much as you can, since at the moment your head was buried in the pillow.

You just hear a sigh, and imagine that he was nodding his head, just like you.

You were silent for a few seconds, until it started to become difficult to breathe.

You were already changing position, about to talk to him, when you felt a pair of hands on you.

Exactly where you feel ticklish.

"You know, I wonder how long you can go without laughing." He says, a damn smile on his face.

You try to stay serious, hold in your laughter as long as you can, until a small sound comes out of your mouth.

And soon, you're waking up the entire neighborhood.

"Your laugh is so cute! I love seeing you laugh." He says through his laughter.

"What will happen if I tickle you... here!" He says, moving his hands up, which were previously on your waist, placing them on your neck.

You were a funny mess, laughing loudly, crying with laughter, and screaming for him to stop.

"Say please." He says, prolonging the please, as if he were singing.

And you, wanting it all to end, beg several times, all of them saying "please"

He continues tickling you a little, until you feel his hands leaving your body, and your laughter getting quieter.

"That was quite a reaction!" He says laughing, and you follow his laugh.

You take a deep breath, already feeling the air returning to your lungs.

You look at him, your smile mischievous, you stand up slightly, getting on your knees, approaching him, and soon your hands are in the air, going towards his neck.

But he catches your wrists, and you end up losing your balance, you can't understand what happened next, only that you're in his lap, your faces inches apart, his hands still holding your wrists.

Your eyes go from his blue eyes to his mouth, his eyes, however, had been on your lips for a long time.

You take a deep breath, swallowing hard.

"I need to ask you a question." You whisper, cutting into the silence.

He stays quiet, but you know he's given you permission to continue.

You were afraid to say the next words.

"You love me?" His lips were parted, and he was winking at you.

"Because I love you, and not as a friend Chris, I love you romantically, but I never dared to dream that you felt the same until that night in the restaurant, it could be that I'm crazy, and seeing things where there aren't any, but, no Like what we have, it's just friendship."

He stayed quiet, just looking at you.

Quiet, just quiet.

"Chris?" I whisper his name. "You love me?"

Silence.

And silence.

You were praying to whatever God would save you, so he wouldn't let you die waiting.

"Answer me, please!" You were almost crying, your eyes were watery, and your voice was shaking.

"Yes or no?" You try again.

His lips were opening and closing, his eyes looking straight into yours.

He was nervous, you knew he was, it was obvious, he couldn't hide it.

And you were so close, and with his silence, you knew you had to leave.

But you couldn't, and you never would.

"Chris..." His voice could barely be heard at that moment.

She was so low, so broken.

But his desperate voice cuts through the silence.

"I love you! Okay? I love you. I didn't want you to find out like this, but I also don't want to go back." He finally speaks.

And you feel a single tear run down your face.

Your heart was racing so much now, you couldn't breathe.

Your mouth was half open, you were trying to breathe, and trying to control the tears, prevent more of them from falling.

"I swore that shit wasn't in my head, I knew we were more than friends but… I was so scared of losing you." A few more tears fall, while you spoke.

His hands let go of your wrists and go to your face, wiping away your tears.

"You won't lose, you never will, even though I was scared to admit it, I knew I was yours, I knew I loved you." He places your hands on his chest, over his heart.

"Can you feel my heartbeat?" You nod. His heart was beating fast.

"It always speeds up when I think, or when I see you, you've always had that effect on me."

It was impossible to hold back the tears now.

"I really, really want to kiss you right now, but I must be a disgusting mess..." you say, laughing a little at the end.

He just smiles and starts kissing all over your face.

Your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your chin, every corner of your face was being kissed by him.

And when he reaches his lips, he just brings his mouth closer to yours and whispers.

"Kiss Me." And you kiss.

The kiss was calm, almost lazy, you weren't in a rush.

His hands were on your neck, and your hands were on his shoulders, going down to his chest.

You slowly separated, Chris giving you a small kiss on the mouth, and you returning the kiss, placing a short kiss on his lips, you continued giving each other kisses on the lips, until you separated.

The smiles you were giving each other were soft, and you left a small kiss on his forehead.

And he was stroking her cheeks, tucking a strand of hair that had fallen into her face, behind her ear.

You were still smiling at him when you whispered. "I have one more question for you..."

His smile widens. "Yes?"

Your hands, which were previously on his chest, move up to his neck.

"Do you feel ticklish here?"

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

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coralinnii · 1 year

Text

I love the villain scorned by the world feat: Malleus genre: drama, hurt/comfort, romance note: part 3 continuation of Being Reincarnated into a New World as the Bad Guy AU Malleus ver, not gender specific reader, no pronouns used, villain/ess!reader is human, insecure villain/ess!reader, use of non-canon characters, 1.6k word count

I'm scared that people aren't gonna like how the villain/ess!reader is portrayed but I wanted to write people who are hurt and are afraid, cuz that's what being alive is like, to sometimes be afraid. So, hope you enjoy!

There are requests with more specific topics or aspects of the story so they may get their own story post. I'm not ignoring you, I'm more story pacing ^^"

In one night alone, you’ve met your ex-fiancé and your former friends while you were with the fae that has asked to marry you. Then, said fae went on to antagonize your ex-fiancé who was a prince and low-key threatened to ruin him, his lover and those who supported the couple.

You were not built for this stress

In his defense, Malleus only did it because your former fiance started to mock you and your family over a crime that was proven false. You certainly weren’t ungrateful enough not to thank Malleus for his assistance. The powerful king simply smiled.

“This is but a mere glimpse of the things I would do for you, should you finally accept my proposal”

“T-this is not a decision you can rush”

You were hesitant and gave excuses to refuse the dragon king but he made efforts to rebuke your reasons one by one, destroying whatever obstacles that kept you from saying yes. Soon, it came down to one reason, your real reason.

You were scared

Not of Malleus, he has never done anything to warrant fear from you. But rather, his status as a “route target”.

Before the arrival of the heroine, you were friends with the other route targets and even felt happy enough to be engaged with the prince despite having only platonic feelings between each other. But the moment they all met her, your world became hers.

Your former fiancé grew irritated with you, then full out ignoring you. It was no better with the others as well when you expressed your worries to your mutual friends. Rather than consoling you or hearing you out, they took the heroine’s side and started ignoring you as well, calling you delusional and unreasonable.

Everyone changed (or perhaps you changed and this was how it was meant to be) and you were left ridiculed and soon villainized by those you felt close to. The look of disgust on their faces whenever you attempted to just speak to them, it hurt you.

Would Malleus be the same? Be kind to you then break your heart when the heroine comes in? You suffered because of it the first time but if it was Malleus…your last and maybe closest person in your life since reincarnating to this world… you don’t know how you could come back from that.

So you started to give up on your happy ending, refusing to answer Malleus’ proposal, avoiding to engage with the heroine at all, even escaping the party and retreating to your old hiding spot… in the royal garden.

Alone with your thoughts, you berated yourself over your cowardice as you hid in the tall rose bushes. Gently, you fidgeted with the rose petals and you reminisced about the past. You met Malleus here, didn’t you?

You were so clueless over your future. Back then, you still held hope that your fate was not predestined, that you could be content with stepping aside for the heroine and live happily with them. Yet despite your conflicted feelings, you managed a smile as you recalled one fateful night in the garden. It was the night that you met with your closest friend…

“Lord Malleus!”

…Did you say that out loud?

You looked around in confusion to see if you were truly alone as you thought and to your surprise, you saw beyond the tall hedges the very fae you were just thinking about and the person who called him…

The female protagonist.

“Do you like flowers, Lord Malleus?”

Your heart clenched painfully as you saw your worst nightmare come to be, the female lead with your friend(?) and they were alone in the gardens, where you realized where the player was supposed to meet Malleus in order to enter his route. Was the baron’s daughter aware of this? Did they meet like it was meant to be? Should you stay…or run away?

You could. Your engagement has been annulled and your family was cleared from accusations of treason. You haven't accepted Malleus' proposal so nothing is holding you or your family back from leaving this kingdom forever and starting a new life away from here. No need to follow this cursed story to the end. No need to ever see your ex-friends or the protagonist ever again.

No need to see Malleus again.

Just run away.

Malleus internally thanked the elders and Lilia for their lessons to conceal his emotions, or he could have done something as drastic as burning this garden to ashes due to the annoyance he felt at this moment. He noticed your escape from the party and assumed you wanted some fresh air so he left you on your own. But soon, the party attendees bore him and he soon ached to be by your side once more. So, he made his way to the one place he immediately thought of when thinking of you, the royal gardens.

It was his curiosity borne from boredom that brought him to the gardens that day. He found himself attracted with your kindness and obliviousness to his true identity. He found you charming, a delight and later an optimist when learning of your situation. He knew right away who you were, the child from a noble family betrothed to the young prince of this kingdom since young but that piece of information did not bother him…at first.

But you were turned from charming to tempting as time went on. He craved your attention, envisioning your smiling face with each letter he received from you via his attendant Lilia. He couldn’t count how many times he wanted to visit you personally but couldn’t. He was sure that if you knew his identity, you may cease your correspondence with him in fear of a scandal between the kingdoms. He at least could appreciate your tactfulness.

But he was greedy as any dragon fae would be once he heard your engagement was annulled. He may curse the foolish prince for his actions but Malleus suppose he should count himself lucky that your ex-fiancé was a fool. If he were a decent man then he may have to declare war by stealing you away.

But Malleus encountered another greedy individual, and she’s standing right in front of him.

“Do you like flowers, Lord Malleus?” The baron’s daughter asked, fluttering her eyelashes cutely.

“This garden and its flora has its charm” Malleus curtly replied, he can’t hate this garden afterall. He met you here.

“So do I! I guess fae and humans aren’t so different, huh”

Well, that’s a stretch of a comment. He couldn’t comprehend this human’s agenda. Constantly surrounded by young men, Malleus assumed she had better ways to spend her time, and not waste his.

Wait…was she reaching her hand to him?

“My wish is for humans and fae to get along. Wouldn’t that be great?” The female lead sweetly said with her best smile, stretching her fingers to reach for Malleus’ crossed arms.

To dare attempt to lay hands on him without his permission. No one would fault him for burning this woman’s audacious hands off, right?

“King Malleus!”

The dragon fae’s pointed ears perked up at the sound of his name. He turned immediately to the source, knowing exactly who just called him.

“My dear human” he responded back with a smile as he saw you walking quickly towards him.

In spite of your nervousness, you walked up to the duo and looked to share a gaze with the tall dragon fae before cautiously moving to hover your hand on his arm. Malleus did you one better and guided your hand to firmly rest on his arm, with his large hand kept over yours.

“Good evening, lady” you nodded your head at the heroine who seemed displeased with your presence but curtsied back, as is custom. You barely gave the woman’s much of your attention (your confidence may waver if you did) and turned directly to face Malleus.

“King Malleus, I had planned to retire early tonight and leave this party” you looked to Malleus, taking a deep breath before speaking once more. To let yourself be selfish and fight for the only man that mattered to you now. “Would you like to leave…with me?”

“Aren’t you being rude?” The female lead argued, barely hiding her annoyance with you. “Not only did you interrupt a conversation, you’re shamelessly asking Lord Malleus to leave-“

“Where would you like to go, my dear human?” Malleus’ deep voice interrupted the baron’s daughter, not that Malleus cared as his striking green eyes focused solely on you.

“If you’re willing…perhaps your manor’s garden?” You shocked yourself with your boldness, but you kept at it. “I much prefer your garden above all others, especially during our dates”

Whoosh

Your senses couldn’t keep up with the sudden shift as you were suddenly lifted by Malleus who quickly scooped you up into a bridal carry. You and the female lead both had looks of shock by the fae king’s sudden actions but Malleus paid attention to only one of you.

“I had made the false assumption that all humans were charming” Malleus’ eyes glinted a bright green, you compared them to gems, as he smirked amusingly at you, his fangs peeking from his lips. “But only you could evoke such feelings of greed within me"

Ignoring this world's protagonist, Malleus began to shroud the two of you in specks of green lights, a sign that you were going to be magically whisked away at Malleus' whim.

But before you did, you managed to meet the female lead's eyes which were filled with nothing but indignant rage. She looked ready to destroy you and everything you love, but you steeled yourself. Instead of flinching under her glare, you smiled at her while wrapping your arms around the dragon king's neck. Without a word, you made your decision.

I'm not giving him up

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #villainess au #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #twst malleus

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weemssapphic · 9 months

Note

Hello, friend!

Would you be so kind as to write a one-shot where r is a local boudoir photographer in Jericho and Larissa gets a shoot done(for whatever reason)? Then it becomes an often thing and r just can't stand seeing such a beautiful woman single ;) maybe some fluffy smut at the end?

A/N: HELLO FRIEND. i'm actually embarrassed looking at the date on this ask and i request your sincerest apologies. i really loved writing this and i hope you enjoy it!

All My Pictures of You

Words: ~5.4k | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: mutual pining, boudoir photography, lingerie, nsfw (smut) - vaginal fingering

Larissa sat in her car in front of the small cottage, her gaze shifting nervously to her watch. 2:57 pm. Her appointment was at 3. She still had a few minutes - she still had time to turn around, to reverse out of the long, winding drive and send an apologetic cancellation email.

No, Larissa told herself firmly. She would go through with this, she wouldn’t back out now. With a deep breath, Larissa wiped her clammy palms on her skirt and stepped out of her car, striding up to the door of the cottage and knocking firmly.

You opened the door quickly, as if you’d been waiting for her, a wide smile on your face as you introduced yourself and gestured for Larissa to come in. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she gave you a once over - you’d been so kind and attentive over the phone, and your voice had been rather attractive, but she hadn’t expected you to be so beautiful. Now she found herself even more nervous than before.

“Please, sit for a moment,” you said warmly, guiding Larissa into your small, homey living room. She perched herself awkwardly at the edge of your couch, her back stiff as a board. “What would you like to drink? I have water, coffee, tea, wine, champagne…”

Larissa clasped her hands in her lap, picking subconsciously at her cuticles. “Wine would be lovely, I suppose.” She was definitely going to need a glass if she was going to get through this afternoon.

“White or red? Wait - let me guess.” You tapped your finger on your lip, giving Larissa a not-so-subtle once-over that had Larissa blushing profusely. “Red?”

Larissa nodded, her heart rate picking up considerably at your adorably wide smile as you sauntered into what she could only assume was your kitchen, before returning a few moments later with a large glass of wine and a glass of water.

She accepted the wine gratefully, muttering out a nervous “thank you” as you sat down across from her and took a sip of your water.

“Before we get started, I just wanted to go over some of the notes I made during our call last week, just to make sure we’re on the same page.”

Larissa nodded, watching as you plucked a notebook off the coffee table and set it on your lap.

“Seeing as you said that this is your first boudoir shoot, I want it to be as comfortable as possible for you. My only ‘rule’ is that you speak up if you feel uncomfortable or self-conscious, and we can go ahead and work through that or stop the session, okay?”

Larissa nodded again, taking a healthy swig of her wine and feeling her cheeks glow with warmth.

“Now I know you’ve come with your hair and makeup already done, as you’d said you would, but I can do touch-ups throughout the afternoon if you’d like. You said you wanted to do the shoot in lingerie, is that still the case?”

“Yes,” she replied breathlessly, feeling more than a little flustered at the prospect of undressing in front of a stranger - a very attractive stranger.

“I assume you’re wearing it right now?” You raised an eyebrow and Larissa nodded sheepishly, her cheeks tinged pink. “I’ll show you where the bathroom is, then, for you to freshen up and get ready, and then we can move into my studio space. Do you have any questions for me before we get started?”

Larissa shook her head no and watched you stand, following your lead as you padded down the hall and opened a door for her. “Take all the time you need.”

Stepping into the bathroom, Larissa shut the door behind her and slumped back against it, squeezing her eyes shut.

She still didn’t know what had compelled her to book a boudoir shoot. She supposed it came down to a desire to feel young and attractive again - years of all-nighters to catch up on work, the stress of running an entire school coupled with dealing with children and constantly putting out fires left her feeling more than a bit run-down. Her age was showing, her crows feet and laugh lines becoming more prominent with each passing day, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious.

The photographer had gotten back to her quickly and suggested an introductory call - despite her nerves, she felt too bad to call the whole thing off and say “never mind”, so she’d gone through with the call. You’d seemed nice enough, very enthusiastic but also very considerate when she’d explained she’d never done something like this before.

And now, Larissa stood in your bathroom, slowly removing her clothing with shaking hands to reveal a red lace bodysuit. It wasn’t particularly revealing as far as lingerie went, yet Larissa blushed furiously as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. It wasn’t that she didn’t find herself beautiful - despite her reservations about her own aging, she did possess a certain confidence in her appearance. But the thin lace left little to the imagination, particularly in comparison to her usual, more conservative attire, and Larissa was about to pose in front of a total stranger with a camera - the implications were just now beginning to hit her.

It’s now or never. Larissa opened the bathroom door almost robotically, slipping out into the narrow hallway. You seemed to have heard the creak of the floorboards, because you poked your head out of a room at the end of the hallway and beamed at her - her heart skipped a beat and she swallowed nervously.

“I’m in here,” you said brightly, waiting for Larissa to walk the length of the hallway and join you in your studio.

The studio space was a large, well-lit room at the back of your cottage. Lots of natural light filtered in through the window, spilling onto a beautiful, vintage-looking rug. An intricately framed mirror stood across from a large bed with a plush, velvet headboard that took up much of the wall.

Larissa didn’t have much time to think about how awkward she felt - from the moment she stepped into the room you were talking up a storm, walking her through the room, showing her your camera and equipment, cracking jokes. She couldn’t help but be enamored with you, and she found herself relaxing slightly as your enthusiasm began to rub off on her.

“I was thinking we could start at the window, the lighting is really great there and it doesn’t feel quite as intimate as shooting in the bed.” You directed Larissa towards the window seat - she perched at the edge of the cushions, unsure of how to pose, but you took over for her in an instant. “Can you lean back against the wall a bit? And turn your head to the right? Just like that.”

Larissa followed your instructions, hearing the shutter of your camera click, her face flushing. She was certain she looked ridiculous, but you kept instructing her to pose and encouraging her happily as if she wasn’t blushing like a schoolgirl - after a few minutes, Larissa found her blush fading slightly, feeling more confident in herself.

~~~

You felt the air leave your lungs when you saw Larissa standing in your hallway in nothing but a lacy bodysuit, looking terribly yet adorably awkward. The next minutes as you started the shoot were no better - you were definitely overcompensating for your attraction to the woman with over-the-top enthusiasm, over-explaining your process and trying to bring the blonde just a bit of comfort.

Being fairly good at your job, you could tell that Larissa was beginning to relax - she wasn’t blushing as much, her posing was less tense, her smile came more naturally. It was then that you were able to admire her beauty in full - and, God, what a stunning woman she was.

She was perched on the window seat, overlooking your lush garden. Sunlight hit her face at the perfect angle, casting a soft shadow across the left side of her face and creating a subtle halo around her perfectly coiffed white hair. Her eyes sparkled like sapphires, bright and clear, and her pale, freckled skin was practically glowing in contrast to the red lace.

You tried your best not to ogle her - she was your paying client, after all, and the last thing you wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable. You normally had no trouble with this, but you’d also never been this attracted to a client before.

“You are very beautiful,” you whispered - the words left your mouth before you could stop them, and your heart skipped a beat as Larissa’s gaze met yours, those deep blue eyes widening and her lips parting slightly as your compliment registered in her brain. Then she smiled, ducking her head shyly, and it was the most breathtaking thing you’d ever seen - you quickly snapped a few photos, Larissa’s smile widening as she heard the sound of the shutter.

~~~

“I’ll upload the photos tonight and start the editing process,” you told Larissa as you led her to your front door. “I have a light workload this week so I should be able to send you the photos in 2-3 days, and then if you want physical copies of any of them, I can help you get those printed.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Larissa replied with a genuine smile - it was your turn to blush. “I’ll be awaiting your email, then.”

“I’ll try not to keep you waiting,” you teased lightly, noting how Larissa’s pupils widened slightly at your tone.

You watched Larissa walk to her car, noting how long and toned her legs looked in her heels - you should have asked her to keep those on, you thought to yourself. Closing the door, you rushed back into your studio and grabbed your camera, then settled on your couch with your laptop - you couldn’t wait to edit her photos.

It was something that kept you busy for the entire evening, and most of the following morning. One of your regulars canceled on you at the last minute, so you ended up having some extra time before your next late afternoon shoot to finish up the editing. You wanted to be done quickly for Larissa, eager for her reaction to the pictures, but it was proving to be quite difficult - your eyes would get stuck on each picture, drinking in the details and getting so lost in simply looking that the editing took ages.

You’d never been this affected by a client before. Sure, you took pictures of beautiful, scantily clad women all the time, you’d been doing it for years at this point. And some of them you did find really attractive. But they were still just clients to you - beautiful, certainly, but strictly off-limits.

But Larissa? There was something about her that captivated you, that made it nearly impossible to think straight - it was entirely inappropriate, but every time you’d caught her smiling in your direction, you’d been overcome with the urge to lunge forward and kiss her senseless. Even now, looking at the pictures you’d taken, your heart skipped a beat.

There was one in particular that you couldn’t seem to stop sneaking glances at. Larissa was lying on her back, her long legs bent, her arms draped over her head. You’d taken the picture from above, and you’d been cracking jokes hoping to make her laugh. And laugh she did - it was loud and unabashed, and it left her with a beaming grin stretching from ear to ear and little crinkles around her eyes. The bridge of her nose crinkled the tiniest bit, bright blue eyes scrunching up. You were grateful for your years of experience, because the sight briefly made you forget how to work your camera - your finger worked on autopilot to snap photos while your brain short-circuited.

Once you finished the editing, you uploaded the photos to your cloud and sent Larissa an email with the link - butterflies erupted in your stomach as your finger hovered over the “send” button, and you realized how fucked you truly were.

~~~

Late the following afternoon, you had another shoot - Sam, a woman you’d taken pictures of on occasion and developed an easy rapport with. After she left, you decided to make yourself some dinner before doing some editing for the evening. Just as the water for your pasta had started to boil, your phone began to vibrate in your pocket.

“Hello?”

The voice at the other end of the line - smooth, sultry, British - made your heart stutter in your chest.

“Hello, this is Larissa. Weems.”

“Oh, hi! I’m assuming you’re calling about the edited photos I sent you?” You tried hard to keep your voice level, to treat her as you did every other woman you took photos of - it proved to be a challenge however, as your voice rose nervously in pitch. Oh, God, what if she was unhappy with them? What if she hated them? What if-

“Yes, I wanted to thank you again. I wasn’t expecting them to turn out so well, I- well, I’m unsure what I was expecting, but they really have turned out beautifully.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” They’re only beautiful because you’re beautiful. “If there are any that you want physical copies of, you can send me an email with the file name and we can go over exactly what you’re looking for?” You paced about your kitchen, filled with too much nervous energy to stand still.

“Oh, yes. There are a few, I suppose. Actually… I wanted to know if there is any way we could do a second shoot?”

A second shoot?

You felt your pulse skyrocket.

“A second shoot? I mean, yeah, of course - whatever you want. Do you have a day in mind already?”

Larissa hesitated a moment before speaking again. “Perhaps next Saturday, the same time as this week?”

“Sure, Larissa.” You trailed off, caught off-guard - you’d thought (at least you’d hoped) that Larissa had become more comfortable by the end of her shoot, but you hadn’t dared dream you’d ever see her again. “Is there something you were unhappy with or…?”

“I just really enjoyed myself and… I think this could be good for me.” You could practically hear the blush in her tone - it made your stomach flip.

“Oh. Yeah. I mean, that’s the goal with these photos, you know?” You paused for a moment, your next words slipping out before you could stop yourself. “Did your partner like them?”

“Oh, no it’s nothing like that… I don’t have a partner.”

You could feel your breath catch in your lungs as you processed her words, scrambling to come up with a suitable answer as you worried you’d made things awkward. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume. I mean I just thought- you know, you’re so beautiful, I assumed…” Way to make things even more awkward…

“It’s quite alright, my dear.” My dear. Swoon. Her voice was filled with warmth, bordering on teasing, and it made your stomach do a somersault.

“I’ll see you next week then? If you still want to, that is.”

“Yes. I would love to. Thank you.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, before hanging up the phone.

~~~

This time, when Larissa walked up to the front door of your cottage, she felt a little more confident. She knew what to expect now - and honestly, the first shoot hadn’t been as awkward or humiliating as she’d thought it would be. Really, the photos had turned out so well - they’d made her feel sexy, they’d made her feel young again. And you’d been very patient with her, always making sure to direct her into poses so that she never felt helpless - there was a reason your clients spoke so highly of you in online reviews, she supposed.

But there was something else. The way you’d looked at her during that first shoot, particularly when you thought she wasn’t watching, had stirred up feelings inside of Larissa that she hadn’t felt in years. She felt desirable. Under your gaze, she felt attractive - it felt natural to pose in lingerie when you were the one watching her. And it was insane, really - she didn’t even know you, and you were simply doing your job. But Larissa couldn’t help but feel like there was something more there.

You let Larissa into your cottage and, after offering her a drink, directed her to get changed and meet you in the studio. Larissa didn’t miss the way you blushed and squirmed when she stepped into the studio in a matching set - a mesh, sage green bra and panties.

She still found herself a bit shy about her body - her stomach was on display a lot more this time around, and she crossed her arms subconsciously over her torso.

“That, uh, that color really suits you.”

It was Larissa’s turn to blush, and she smiled a shy, closed-lip smile. You directed her to the floor in front of the mirror, explaining that you would love to use the mirror for some shots. Larissa agreed and sat down, drawing her legs up to her chest to hide the stomach rolls that formed as she sat.

“None of that,” you teased, tapping her knee and instructing her to stretch out her legs. Larissa leaned back on her elbows, her body now on almost full display for you. Your eyes roamed her bare skin - just briefly - and you bit your lip. “You have a gorgeous figure, Larissa. Really, most women would kill to look like you.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that…” Larissa felt her stomach flip at your compliment. You gave her a look that she couldn’t quite place, your eyes briefly flicking over her body. Part of her did feel self-conscious but another part, a part that was quickly taking over, felt alive under your gaze. She felt her body come to life as she posed for you, and she almost found herself forgetting there was even a camera present - she often looked past the lens, directly at you, admiring you in your element, basking in the soft smiles you would shoot at her when you caught her looking.

“Um, Larissa?” you asked suddenly, lowering your camera slightly and cocking your head to the side.

“Hmm?”

“Could we try… maybe we could try taking your hair down for a few photos?” You bit your lip and watched intently for Larissa’s reaction - her eyes widened at your suggestion and you immediately started to backtrack. “I mean, it looks like it was a bitch to put up so I totally get it if you’d rather not! And I mean it looks amazing, you look really beautiful, so it’s nice as is!”

Larissa did have to admit your suggestion caught her off-guard - her updo had become an integral part of her uniform, another part of her mask. She’d figured out long ago that it suited her, gave her an untouchable air of sophistication, and it became a staple for her - there were few people in her life today who’d seen her with her hair down, and so wearing her hair down had begun to feel very intimate.

But something about you, about the entire situation, felt different. She felt safe here in this little studio space. So, after a moment’s hesitation, she smiled and nodded. “I can take it down. It’ll take a few minutes though, there are quite a few pins.”

“I could help - I mean, only if you want me to, of course, sorry.”

Larissa couldn’t help but grin at your chaotic nature. “I would appreciate your help.”

You set your camera on the floor and scooted closer, settling on your knees behind Larissa and running your fingers over the intricate curls. “Wow,” you breathed, before gently beginning to pry pins out of her hair - Larissa felt her cheeks go pink, unused to so much praise.

Your fingers danced over her curls, setting them free one by one. The pressure from the pins was slowly being released, and she couldn’t help but let out a soft moan of pleasure. She felt embarrassed by the noise, but it seemed to embolden you - you began to gently massage her scalp.

“Is this okay?” you whispered.

“Mmh… yes, it is.” Larissa let out another hum of pleasure and leaned into your touch.

“Why do you wear it up like that if it’s so tight?” Your voice was curious as the pads of your fingers reached the muscles at the nape of her neck.

“I just do.” Larissa shrugged, another soft moan escaping her lips - this time, she didn’t try to hold it back. “I found it suits me. And I enjoy the process, I like having my routine and my structure.”

You carded your fingers through loose, platinum curls, draping the long locks over Larissa’s shoulders and moving around to face her. Your eyes were wide as they roamed over Larissa’s face, over long lengths of hair - your cheeks turning red in real time.

“Uh, looks good. The light is kind of coming in from the side, if I go over there and you kind of pose in front of the mirror, I think that would look cool. Maybe we could do some standing shots?”

Larissa grinned, very aware of how you were trying to cover up your own embarrassment at the sudden intimacy. How endearing, she thought.

After the shoot, when she was sitting in her car, Larissa realized just how good that intimacy had felt. She craved it, and most importantly, she craved it with you. What she didn’t know was that you were sitting on your couch, your stomach flipping as you reviewed the photos you’d taken - completely smitten by her and wondering when you’d get to see her again.

~~~

You did that dance for months - every so often, Larissa would book a shoot, seeming to become more and more comfortable each time. Her lingerie became more revealing, her posing more confident - she often wore her hair down, once she even decided to forgo makeup. Both of you flirted - just a little - dancing around each other, perfectly in sync but never daring to go for more. Every so often your hand would linger just a little longer than it should when you’d direct Larissa into a pose, every so often Larissa’s gaze would travel over your own body as you snapped photo after photo.

Today’s shoot was no different. Larissa wore a white teddy, nearly see-through, with lace around the cups and a deep plunge. Her hair hung in loose waves down her back, one side pinned back from her face. It had stolen the breath from your lungs when she’d entered the room and you’d busied yourself with your equipment as you tried to compose yourself.

Larissa sat down on the bed, legs crossed demurely as she waited for you, hands clasped in her lap. Little did you know that today’s shoot would be very different to the rest - Larissa would make sure of that.

“Do you want to start on the bed today then?” you asked, glancing over at Larissa as you fiddled with some settings on your camera.

“Yes, I think so,” Larissa purred, her voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“Whenever you’re ready.” You tried for a casual smile, hating the way your voice broke slightly - it was getting harder and harder to keep your composure around the woman.

Larissa shifted slightly on the bed and you stepped forward to get a closer angle. The blonde looked straight into the camera, eyes seductive and heavy-lidded, and uncrossed her legs - you snapped a few photos. Then, at an almost glacial pace, she spread her legs, a smirk playing upon her lips.

You were so focussed on her full, red lips that it took you a moment before you glanced down between her legs - the sight had your mouth going dry. Larissa’s lingerie was crotchless - there, between soft, milky thighs, was her pussy, bare and glistening with arousal.

Larissa rested her hands on her thighs, gently squeezing the soft flesh there, before trailing her palms slowly inward and upward, subtly spreading her legs even farther, spreading herself open in the process.

You watched, mesmerized. As if pulled by an invisible force, you found yourself setting down your camera and crawling up the bed towards Larissa, until you were nestled between her thighs. You could feel heat radiating off her in waves - it made desire pool in your core, like a tightening coil. Leaning in, you stopped until your face was inches away from hers, until you could feel her breath fan across your face. Your eyes were glued to her lips - red and plush - as you closed the gap, your eyelids fluttering shut as your lips connected with her own - soft and warm.

A soft sigh escaped your throat when Larissa began to kiss you back, moving her mouth against your own. Her hands landed on the curve of your hips, causing your heart to flutter madly. You pressed forward, your hand resting on Larissa’s shoulder as you guided her backwards - Larissa followed your lead until she was lying on her back and you were hovering over her, your knee inches away from her warm core. “I’m very attracted to you, Larissa,” you mumbled against her lips.

“Do you do this with all the women you take pictures of?” Larissa’s voice was deep and sultry, her eyes half-lidded, but you could tell from the way her fingers twitched against your hips, the absence of her breath against your face, that your answer mattered to her.

“It never even crossed my mind until I met you…” It was true. You’d never desired another person this much before, and you’d certainly never dreamed of pursuing a client. Except Larissa. Larissa, who was staring up at you with wide eyes and rosy cheeks. Larissa, who in that moment wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you down, her lips meeting yours in a hungry, passionate kiss that stole the breath from your lungs.

It was as if Larissa was trying to devour you, her lips moving against yours in desperation. She deepened the kiss, her tongue swirling around yours as her hands found purchase in your hair, nails gently scratching your scalp.

You let out a deep groan as Larissa arched her back off the bed, pushing her body up into your own and letting out a soft whine.

“Fuck, Larissa.”

“Please.”

That one syllable was so needy, so filled with desire that your thighs clenched together of their own accord, the heat between your bodies becoming absolutely unbearable. Your hand traveled lower and lower, caressing Larissa’s waist, her hips, her thigh, your fingertips memorizing the softness of her skin - every dip and curve of her body. Your hand reached her inner thigh and Larissa let out a gasp, her legs twitching.

“Can I?” you breathed, pausing in your ministrations. You were met with a breathy ‘yes’ and an enthusiastic nod of Larissa’s head - then with a whimper as your fingers brushed against her wet folds.

Larissa tightened her grip on your hips, squirming slightly beneath you as your fingers explored her cunt, trailing up her slit to gather the juices there and smearing them over her clit.

“Mmh, right there, keep going.” Larissa’s voice was becoming breathier as she began to roll her hips. It was so incredibly hot, how you could see the muscles in her thighs and stomach tighten as she ground her pelvis into your fingers.

Larissa arched her back off the bed, tilting her head back as she let out a low groan when your fingers began to tease her entrance. “P-please,” she whimpered.

You happily obliged, letting out a moan of your own when you slipped a digit inside of her hole and felt her walls clench needily around it, drawing you in.

“You feel so good.” You leaned down to press your lips to Larissa’s - the kiss was hungry and desperate and hot, the blonde’s breathing labored. Her hands slipped under your shirt and clawed at your back, leaving angry red scratches in their wake - the pain felt delicious and you dragged Larissa’s bottom lip between your teeth in response.

Your finger pumped in and out of Larissa at a steady pace and you soon added a second finger. The pads of your fingers found her sweet spot while your thumb began to flick gently across her clit, drawing a whine from her throat.

You drew back slightly from the kiss to catch a glimpse of Larissa’s face - she took your breath away. Her face and chest were flushed, her eyes were heavy-lidded, mascara-coated lashes fluttering slightly, lips parted as her jaw went slack. When she noticed you watching her, the corners of her lips quirked up slightly into a seductive smile, and she squeezed your waist.

“You’re gorgeous,” you breathed.

“Then kiss me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice - you descended upon her again, pouring all of your passion and desire into the kiss as your fingers curled inside of her and your thumb massaged her sensitive clit. You swallowed her moans as she got closer and closer to the edge, fucking her through her first orgasm - and keeping up your pace even as her thighs trembled and her nails dug into your skin.

A second orgasm quickly followed, then a third, then Larissa was gently pushing your hand away.

“I need a moment,” she admitted between deep, labored breaths, a soft smile on her face as her eyelids fluttered shut.

You happily scooted up the bed to join her, settling next to her and pressing a kiss to her temple as she nestled into your side. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you watched Larissa come down from her high, allowing yourself to freely admire her stunning features.

“Larissa?” you whispered, resting your hand on her hip and gently stroking the soft skin.

Larissa hummed in response, burrowing her head deeper into the crook of your neck and placing a kiss to the side of your throat - it sent a shiver down your spine.

“I have a confession to make.” You bit your lip, your pulse hammering as Larissa leaned back slightly to fix you with a curious gaze, her eyes wide and blue and gleaming, kiss-swollen lips parted slightly. “I have wanted to do… this since our first shoot.” As if to emphasize your point you caressed the curve of Larissa’s hip as you watched for her reaction.

A contented smile spread across Larissa’s face and she leaned in for a kiss, her lips warm and comforting against your own. “I know,” she whispered with a smirk.

“You know? What do you mean you know?” You suddenly remembered that Larissa had mentioned during your intro call that she was the principal of Nevermore Academy and your eyes widened. “You can’t read minds, can you?”

Larissa chuckled at your perplexed expression. “No, I can’t read minds. But I’m afraid you’re not very good at hiding your attraction.” Her tone was teasing and light, and you could feel your cheeks turn scarlet.

“God, I’m so sorry if I creeped you out,” you mumbled, burying your face in the pillow.

“I found it quite endearing actually.” Larissa’s voice was inches away from your ear, her breath washing over the side of your face before she placed a kiss to your cheek. “In case you failed to notice, I’m attracted to you as well.”

Larissa’s fingers found your chin and she tilted your head to face her. Her eyes swam with warmth as she inched towards you until her lips captured yours in a languid kiss.

“Larissa?”

“Yes, darling?”

Darling. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Would it be… I mean would you be interested in… Would you like to-”

The blonde watched you struggle, her shoulders beginning to shake with laughter before she (mercifully) cut you off.

“Are you trying to ask me on a date?” She grinned at the blush on your cheeks as you nodded your head. “Yes. I would be interested in going out with you, darling.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you leaned in to kiss Larissa again, your head clouded with euphoria and your heart pounding. Her hands came to grip your waist and she flipped you onto your back, hovering over you as her lips began to mark every inch of you she could reach, her hands slowly unbuttoning your shirt.

It was something you’d been picturing over and over again since you’d first laid eyes on Larissa - but reality was definitely proving to be better than even your wildest fantasies.

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