#it's just school but man why is there so much of it sometimes i regret it but i habe to push through I'm almost at the end | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seonghrtz · 6 months

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𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌.

synopsis: fushiguro siblings need materials for their schoolwork, while gojo needs your help ⸻ again.

As the clock struck two o'clock in the afternoon, just as you had finished exorcizing a second grade curse, Gojo Satoru bombarded your inbox. You rolled your eyes as you regretted giving Gojo your number. You were aware of the young sorcerer's situation, and even more aware that it wasn't easy to look after two children half your age, but receiving sixty-eight messages at once was frightening.

Usually Gojo would send you photos of Megumi and Tsumiki, just Megumi alone and sometimes a photo of himself, and he would always send you questions about what to buy for the children to eat and how to make something tasty for them to take to school ⸻ he wasn't lying when he told you that he was trying to give these children as normal a childhood as possible. From time to time, Gojo would ask you trivial questions about everything and nothing, sometimes about you and your likes, nothing too invasive, and never about your family or your clan. But never, never in all that time had you received sixty-eight messages from him.

It was worrying, but coming from Gojo, you knew that if it was something that was really worrying, he wouldn't be texting you, he would be calling you right away. Just like when Megumi decided to ignore Gojo, since one of the six-eyed sorcerer's greatest pleasures was to annoy and tease the little boy. And Gojo, convinced that Megumi only listens to you, decided to call you and ask for your help with the "problem" between them. Of course, after you talked to Megumi and asked him to be more patient with Satoru, and after you pulled Gojo's ear ⸻ well, not exactly his ear, not least because of the infinity, but to lecture him ⸻, everything worked out.

One of the first things you thought of was that maybe Gojo needed you to help Megumi and Tsumiki with their homework, or something like that. And before answering Gojo's sixty-eight messages, you got back into the car that had taken you to the Kyoto Jujutsu School to report on your successful mission. But it seems that Gojo had bigger plans for that afternoon, and it seems that you were caught up in his plans. As you got out of the car, ready to hand in your mission report, a certain young man with white hair, round sunglasses and a smile came into view.

"Oi Kamo, why haven't you answered my messages?" Gojo approached you. He was close enough for you to smell the scent of Gojo's no doubt expensive perfume, but at the same time separated by an invisible barrier that protected him from everything and everyone ⸻ even you.

"The sixty-eight messages you sent when I was on a mission?" You held back the urge to roll your eyes at him, "Gojo, I have my duties as a jujutsu sorceress, I'm not available all day."

"Yeah, I know. That's why you get to spend the whole afternoon free from your ‘duties’ as a jujutsu sorceress!" Gojo said excitedly, throwing his arms up in the air.

"What? What exactly do you mean by that?"

"That you don't have to do any missions in the afternoon and evening, so you can go out with me and the brats!"

"You mean you threatened... no, no, much worse... you mean you bribed the director so I wouldn't get any more missions during the day?"

As nice as it was to spend the rest of the day not worrying about escaping death, exorcizing curses was still the only way you could afford to survive ⸻ it was your only source of income.

"Yes," Gojo said calmly.

"What are you thinking?" you looked at Gojo indignantly, "You can't just bribe the director to let me go out with you, Gojo."

"And why not?" Gojo asked genuinely.

"Because that's my job, Gojo. I'll lose a lot of money without these missions.”

"Don't worry about the money, I'll pay for it later. You're already stressed out, we don't want to see a vein burst in that pretty forehead of yours, do we?" Satoru smiled sideways and walked towards a black car, "Are you just going to stand there or are you coming?”

"What have I got myself into..." You muttered to yourself before walking over to Gojo's car and getting into the passenger seat next to him.

"Let's go get the brats, apparently Tsumiki needs some materials to do some schoolwork." Gojo started the car after putting on his seatbelt.

"What about Fushiguro?"

"I have no idea what he needs, he just said he needed something too."

"You should be kinder to him instead of teasing him, then maybe he'll tell you what he needs."

"It's no use, even if I am nice to him, he only respects you."

As you watched the scenery through the tinted window of Gojo's car, not knowing where you were really going, the most powerful Jujutsu sorcerer was sitting next to you, driving while singing along to the song on the radio. In the back seat, Tsumiki bobbed her head to the beat of the music while Megumi kept his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. You sympathised with Megumi's situation, even though Gojo didn't sing badly, listening to him sing non-stop for almost half an hour felt like torture.

Tired, you sighed lightly and looked for a good position on the passenger seat to lean your head back and close your eyes, imitating Megumi. However, your moment of peace was short-lived, as within a few minutes, Gojo was calling your name excitedly, saying that they had already arrived at the location.

You got out of the car a little unsure, noticed that you were in a covered car park, and wondered why you were there. If the children needed school supplies, you should have been in a stationery shop and not somewhere else.

"Here are the best shops." You overheard part of Gojo's conversation with Tsumiki while you watched Megumi standing next to you with his hands in the pockets of his uniform trousers. "Do you really want to stay behind?" Gojo turned to you and Megumi with a smile on his face.

You glanced briefly at Fushiguro, nodding in the direction of Gojo and his sister, before you both started walking. Your eyes traveled around as soon as you entered the establishment, your mind gradually clearing as you remembered the mall you had gone to with Shoko and Utahime a few months ago. It wasn't easy to forget the designer stores where a simple blouse cost more than you got for exorcizing a second grade curse. Gojo led the way to a stationery store on the second floor of the mall, and before you could enter the store, you waved for the white-haired boy to come closer while you watched Tsumiki and Megumi enter.

"Look, Gojo, I know you're the heir of the clan and that you have a lot of money, but don't you think it's too expensive to buy school supplies here? I'm sure any other stationery store will have what the kids need at a better price." You muttered.

"Ah, we're not just here for the stationery store." Gojo smiled in your direction and adjusted his glasses.

"No?" You asked confused.

"No! Now let's go, we have to buy things for the brats," Gojo said, heading in the direction of the Fushiguro siblings.

"What's his problem?" You wondered before you followed the trio into the huge store.

While Gojo helped Tsumiki choose the materials for her model, you and Megumi walked around the store looking for materials to decorate the poster the boy would make.

"What do you think about colored pencils?" You asked the boy, who just shrugged.

"Anything's fine." Megumi muttered, looking at the options of colored pens in front of him.

"Are you sure? Gojo's the one who's going to pay." You smiled sideways.

"Those over there," Megumi pointed hesitantly at a set of thirty-two colored pens.

"These?" You smiled and took the object, "If you need anything else, just ask."

"Could you... could you help me with my poster?" Megumi said and looked down at the floor with rosy cheeks.

Oh, how adorable he was.

"Of course." You smiled openly.

"Is that all you're going to take, Megumi?" Gojo appeared next to Tsumiki, holding a basket full of materials. "And these aren't even the best quality!" The white-haired man took the pens from your hand and put them back before he took a set of thirty-two pens that were almost twice as expensive as the ones Megumi had chosen earlier.

"More expensive doesn't always mean better quality."

"Trust me, Kamo-chan, this is the best brand out there!" Gojo put the set of pens in the basket. "Are you sure this is it?" He looked at the Fushiguro siblings and received a nod from Tsumiki and a blank stare from Megumi."I'll go to the cash register then!"

After buying all the materials at the stationery store, Gojo continued to guide you and the Fushiguro siblings around the place. Gojo walked through the mall as if he had been doing it for years, he seemed to know every corridor in the place. Maybe he was just used to the mall, and that wouldn't surprise you at all, since at eighteen, he was the most powerful of the Gojo clan and probably the richest as well.

"Would you do me a favor?" Gojo turned to you as you stopped in front of a boutique.

"It depends." You looked at him suspiciously.

"Could you try on some dresses for me?"

"What? Why do you want me to try on dresses for you?"

"Ah... well... you know... I have to go to a birthday party, and apparently it's rude not to bring a present for the birthday girl... you'd even believe me if I told you that you're both the same size." Gojo quickly explained, "It's just so I don't get the dress size wrong… since you're both the same size..."

"As long as it's quick, Tsumiki and Megumi have to start their schoolwork." You agreed without seeing many other possibilities than the most likely one. Not to mention the fact that you didn't want to have to deal with Gojo nagging you until he got what he wanted.

"You'll be a big help to me, Kamo-chan!"

"And don't call me that." You rolled your eyes as you entered the store with the trio.

"Tsumiki, Megumi, sit over there on the sofas, Kamo-chan and I have some hard work to do." Gojo handed the shopping bags to Tsumiki and turned to one of the shop assistants.

"Gojo-san, it is good to see you again." The woman smiled politely, "Would you like to see the pieces you asked me to separate?"

"Yes, I brought the model this time!" Gojo pointed at you with a big smile on his face.

"Then please follow me, Miss”

"What?" You looked between the attendant and Gojo without understanding anything.

"She'll take you to a fitting room," the white-haired man said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Have you been here?"

"Of course I have, I chose the dresses beforehand, I just needed an opportunity to bring you here! Now, without further ado, the sooner you try them on, the more rest time you'll have."

You gave Gojo one last uncertain look before following the saleswoman. She led you to one of the fitting rooms and asked you to wait there so she could bring you the dresses Gojo had chosen. You looked around the fitting room and noticed that it was larger than a traditional store fitting room, there was even a mini two-seater sofa in the corner.

"Here is the first dress." The woman handed you the dress before closing the door.

Holding the dress in your hand, you felt the softness of the fabric and the delicacy of the details. It was a long, one-shouldered vintage dress with fabric that graduated from dark pink to yellowish green at the edges. It had a lot of irregular embroidery along its length, along with several pink flowers, as if they were bouquets swaying in the wind. It was beautiful.

Gojo certainly had a good sense of fashion.

You took off your uniform and carefully put on the dress, afraid to ruin it. Your eyes traveled to your reflection in the huge mirror in the fitting room. The dress had fit you perfectly, as if it had been made for you.

But it wasn't for you, it was for Gojo's friend.

"You can come out when you're ready." The woman spoke from the other side.

With hands trembling slightly from the sudden, unfamiliar nervousness you were beginning to feel, you opened the dressing room door and stepped out almost in slow motion.

"Wow..." The woman in front of you said with parted lips, "You look magnificent." She held out her hand to you and you reluctantly accepted it. The attendant led you to where Gojo was sitting, now accompanied by Tsumiki and Megumi. "This is the first dress."

"Wow, Kamo-san!" Tsumiki looked in your direction with a twinkle in her eye, "You look like a princess."

"It's no big deal, Tsumiki." You smiled nervously in the girl's direction but then turned your attention to Gojo. "So, what did you think?"

"You're perf–" Gojo quickly stopped talking and scratched his throat, "That's a nice dress, but looking at it now, I don't think it's quite right for... the birthday girl. Could you try on another one?"

"Okay then." You sighed and turned around, ready to go back to the fitting room.

You sighed deeply as you received another dress from the saleswoman, this time a blue one. You felt like you were trying on several dresses of every color imaginable. They all had a different color, a different style. And there was no end to them ⸻ maybe Gojo made you try on every dress available in the store. You didn't know what number the dress you were trying on was, if it was the eighth or the fourteenth, you stopped counting after the fifth one you tried on.

But it was certainly the prettiest dress you tried on.

The dress looked more like a Vivienne Westwood wedding dress, but in a shade of blue.

And strangely enough, that blue reminded you of something you didn't seem to remember at the moment, but it certainly brought back vague memories of something.

When you came out of the fitting room, the woman serving you put her hands to her mouth, which was open in surprise.

"You look like a dream." The woman smiled happily, "You look magnificent, gorgeous, splendid, stunning...oh, I could spend all day praising your beauty in this dress, it looks like it was made just for you, and I'm not just talking about the size."

But again, the dress wasn't for you. It wasn't meant for you, so it couldn't possibly have been made for you.

"I think that was a bit of an exaggeration, but thank you."

"Gojo-san will love this, I'm sure."

"I hope..." You muttered. In fact, you were hoping that this would be the last dress to be tried on. They were all beautiful, but it seemed that none of them were to Gojo's taste ⸻ even though he had chosen all the ones you had tried on. It had been minutes, perhaps hours, since you had been there, and the constant changing of dresses had become tiresome.

You followed the attendant, taking the same route you had been taking for minutes ⸻ but which seemed like an eternity to you ⸻, to show Gojo the dresses.

"This is the last dress of your choice." The attendant said, drawing the attention of Gojo, who was teasing Megumi.

Gojo turned abruptly toward you, and at the same moment, his round sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, revealing his bluish orbs.

So that was it... The blue of the dress resembled the blue of his eyes.

Obviously the bright, crystal blue of Gojo's eyes couldn't be replicated in a shade of fabric, but in a way they were similar.

"This is the one..." Gojo almost sighed, as if he lacked the words ⸻ or perhaps it was the air he lacked.

"This is definitely the best choice!" The attendant smiled excitedly at Gojo's choice, "We'll pack it up now so you can take it with you."

You returned to the fitting room again, this time relieved that you didn't have to try on any more clothes. You changed back into your uniform and handed the dress to the attendant before heading to the Fushiguro siblings while Gojo paid for his friend's birthday present.

"I think it's time to go home!" Gojo smiled after returning from the cashier with the dress.

Gojo drove all the way to Kyoto to drop you off at home. Megumi and Tsumiki slept in the backseat while the low sound of the radio mixed with their breathing. You had to stop yourself from turning around and looking at this extremely cute scene.

"You know, there's a spare room in my apartment..."

"I'm not moving into your apartment Gojo..." You sighed.

"I know you always refuse my offer, but you can still sleep there for just one night if you want," Gojo looked away from the road for a few seconds, "You could, I don't know, spend a night there, the brats love you, so they'd like it."

"I'll think about it..."

"Really, that would help Megumi's mood a lot." Gojo laughed softly. "Tsumiki is an angel, but it seems that the devil lives in Megumi's body and you're the only one who can tame this devil."

"I've already expressed my opinion on the matter, Gojo."

"Stop teasing and annoying Megumi and blah blah blah," Gojo said in a thin tone of voice, as if he wanted to imitate you, but in a more provocative way.

"Stop being an idiot, Gojo." A small laugh escaped your lips.

"Hey?! Did I just make the serious Kamo-chan laugh?" Gojo smiled provocatively in your direction.

"No." The seriousness returned to your face.

"Oh come on, you should smile more." Gojo tapped his fingers on the steering wheel "Or maybe that's why Megumi likes you so much, you're the same."

You looked seriously in Gojo's direction. Ah, but if looks could kill...

"Come on, that's the first time I've seen you express a genuine laugh in the three years I've known you!"

"Maybe you're just not funny enough to make me laugh."

"WHAT?!" Satoru suddenly braked the car.

"Gojo!" You said in a repressive tone. "You're going to wake up the kids like that, and you've gone crazy braking the car like that?"

"First of all, I almost drove by your apartment, and secondly, how come you don't find me funny?" Gojo turned off the car, unbuckled his seatbelt, and turned toward you.

"I just don't find it funny, there's not much explanation." You shrugged.

"Oh come on, don't be so cruel to me! You just laughed at me."

"I wasn't laughing at you!"

"Are you gaslighting me?"

"Really?" Your eye roll was enough to make Gojo smile sideways, "Look, I'm off, have a good afternoon and don't forget to give the kids some real food." You quickly got out of the car with your small backpack and looked for the key to your building.

"Kamo-chan, wait a minute," Gojo got out of the car and walked in your direction.

"What is it this time, Gojo?"

"You forgot this." He lifted the bag in his right hand, showing the store brand of the dress Gojo had bought as a gift.

"What do you mean?" You looked at him confused. "But isn't that your friend's present?"

"I lied, I don't have any friends having a birthday."

"Why did you lie?"

"I was afraid you would refuse the dress as a thank-you. Look, you've helped me a lot with all this childcare stuff, and I wanted to thank you in some way, and I thought the dress would be a good start."

"Gojo, I have no occasion to wear that dress, and not to mention it's extremely expensive, I didn't need something so expensive."

"I know you'll have a chance to use it, and you should seriously stop worrying about my money."

"It's just that..." You looked at your own reflection in Gojo's glasses and took the bag held out to you. "Thank you. The dress is beautiful."

"Of course the dress is beautiful, I chose it myself!" Gojo smiled smugly. "I think I'd better go, the brats have school tomorrow."

"Uhm, thanks again."

"It was nothing." Gojo smiled before getting back into the car.

Your hand tightened on the handle of the bag as you made your way to your apartment. When you were finally safely inside your apartment, your cheeks began to soak from the tears that kept flowing. This was the first gift you had received in years. It was the first time in years that you felt special. In that moment, you felt like the child you never had the chance to be. Maybe this was the closest you had ever felt to a normal life...

Yeah, perhaps Gojo had an admirable side beneath all that ego.

memory garden masterlist !

☆! tag list : @arminswifee . @khaleesihavilliard . @chieeeeeee . @manooffline . @shybananabagellover . @r0ckst4rjk . @sad-darksoul . @chuluoyi . @stormflysaysstuff

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satoruscursedbandages · 2 months

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SFW Headcanons for Male!R being a normal person in the JJK world and just encountering Yuji every so often during normal day stuff and slowly becoming good friends with him.

୨ . ࣪ my best friend . ୨ . 🌅

Note ~ I sobbed at the end.. there’s your tragic ending though I hope you like it(*´-`)..(I screamed and cried.)

MENTIONS — Male!Reader, close friends with Itadori, Blood, Death of !Reader, shibuya incident mentioned, grieving, depression.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

— !YuujiItadori who meets you at a movie theater for another human earthworm movie! He thought it was cool to see someone around his age enjoying the same stuff as him since Nobara n’ Megumi were either too busy or didn’t want to watch a ‘weird’ movie like that..

— !YuujiItadori who makes sure to get your number so you guys can hang out more and maybe introduce you to his other friends!

— !YuujiItadori who calls/texts you daily to ask to hang out and even asks you about your day and what you did, sometimes when you were free he’d even offer to get you guy’s food, his treat!

— !YuujiItadori who considers you a best friend only after a short time of knowing him, you both know a lot about each other since the both of you would everyday and hang out with him almost everyday when you guys got the chance, you even hang out with his friend group too!

— !YuujiItadori who is a really nice guy and a great listener, if you’re having a bad day or need help with something he wouldn’t mind helping one of his best friends out. And if you were feeling bothered by something he’d insist you talk to him or at least let him listen to your struggles so he can try to cheer you up or help you out, you are his best friend after all that’s what a friend is for!（╹◡╹）♡

— !YuujiItadori who tries to get your mind off of hard things especially school, he wasn’t that bright but even if you needed some help with work or anything of the sort he sure would try!!…or use some cheating AI app and say some dumbass shit like “hey man..it gets the job done okay?” With a silly laugh.

— !YuujiItadori who tells you how much he appreciates you and how he likes hanging out with you A LOT, how you’re a chill guy and a funny one at that as well!

— !YuujiItadori who DEFINITELY made you both create a secret handshake only you two know about since you guys are such good friends!

— !YuujiItadori who would probably tease and pull a little prank here and there, nothing serious he would probably slap the back of your neck(not hard ofc!!), the ‘made you look!’ classic, play fight with you, etc. he would DEFINITELY steal a fry from you when you were looking and be like “woaaaaah..who did that..not me!! You’re definitely seeing things man..” as he’d do the crazy sign, you knew he was joking and he made you laugh so you never had a problem with him.

— !YuujiItadori who defends you if someone tries to start with you or is mean to you, he doesn’t like when people are rude to his friends, especially you. You both are close and doesn’t get why someone would be rude to you.

— !YuujiItadori who accepts and understands anything you are/do, he isn’t a judging guy. As long as you aren’t like those really mean judgmental bullies or just a strange weirdo he could care less. You’re his friend nothing would change that no matter how you are.

— !YuujiItadori who invites you over to his place so you guys can stay up late and eat a shit ton of snacks you both are sooooo gonna regret later..

— !YuujiItadori who invites you over to his place so you guys can hang out, play video games, and watch horror or scary movies then laugh about them later and make fun of each others reactions. He’d definitely wear some corny cheesy PJ’s of his favorite movie/video game, or wear a “I paused my game to be here” shirt as a joke..

— !YuujiItadori who rants to you about his interests and comics he’s into, like DBZ, Naruto, Bleach, Etc..he loves reading manga and you like listening about it you think it’s cool on how he knows a lot of characters and plots that are interesting to hear about. He even recommends you some stuff to watch/listen to and you both end up chatting about it for hours!

— !YuujiItadori who probably makes you guys wear matching shirts for shits and giggles, it would say some dumb or corny shit that would probably annoy you..not ACTUALLY annoy you but probably make you wanna punch his chest and question why you’re his friend sarcastically, he knows you enjoy being his friend and that you two are extremely close.

— !YuujiItadori who isn’t able to come with you on Halloween due to a mission he’s sent on but he doesn’t tell you that because he doesn’t tell you anything about sorcerers or curses since you can’t see or know about them..but implies you guys can hang out the next time he’s free! He uses the excuse that he has to help Megumi with some personal stuff and he’ll definitely hang out with you as soon as he can.

— !YuujiItadori who isn’t able to control the curse inside him, Ryomen Sukuna. As Sukuna is going on a rampage killing off innocent people and stuff like that he notices you, he knows you’re close to Yuuji..he kills you in the most gruesome way making Yuuji watch as his own best friends body was being sliced, punctured, beaten by something he SWORE he could control.

— !YuujiItadori who is finally able to get to be in control of his body but it’s already too late, you’re gone. Your body is cold and he’s ruined. You were his best friend, a guy he could go to for ANYTHING. He’d try to shake you awake and try to look around for a medic or anyone that could help but everything around him was either burnt to a crisp or dead. Gone. It was pitch black but the moonlight dimly reflected on your body and he saw all the blood..the wounds..how your lifeless eyes were looking at him even though you were dead.

— !YuujiItadori who has a complete break down, who curses Sukuna meanwhile Sukuna is mocking and laughing at him. Mocking the words you were screaming out as Sukuna killed you, “Itadori! Please stop! I thought we were..friends..what are you doing?! STOP!!” He kept mentioning the way you screamed and other gruesome details. All Itadori could do was scream and cry holding onto the corpse that was once your body full of life.

— !YuujiItadori who was depressed for days, weeks, and perhaps even months. He couldn’t get over you..he would seem less happy and when he’d see things that you guys would talk about he’d slightly tear up or frown. Remembering all the memories the both of you shared, how you would always talk to him and hang out with him. He’d miss the times you both would spend with each other.

— !YuujiItadori who would text your phone number daily until it went to green and not delivered, someone else had your number now and he was completely devastated. The one last thing he could contact you with was gone, he’d even try to visit your gravestone and try to talk about the good times you both had. How you were his bestfriend and how he missed you so much. How he wish he could do a better job at controlling that damned curse inside him. He swore on everything it would NEVER happen again.

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

#yuji itadori #jjk itadori #jujutsu itadori #itadori x reader #jjk fluff #fluff #jjk x male reader #male!reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #friendship #itadori fluff #itadori x you #SFW #sfw headcanons

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nomazee · 2 months

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THIS EVENT IS SO CUTE!!🩷🩷😭

could i req childhood best friends dan heng x reader word(s) is sneaking out if you want a timestamp, it's 11:42 p.m. thank you so much!!!

THIS REQUEST WAS SO CUTE i had way too much fun with this this hit 1.5k words which is way over the limit i set for myself... but i do not regret it at all. I LOVE CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND DAN HENG AAAA THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING

my 1k event!

—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—

The ringing of your phone is cut off by the automated voicemail message for the nth time in a row. Your neck hurts from how long you’ve been staring up at Dan Heng’s bedroom window, where the lights are off and the curtains are drawn and he’s definitely asleep.

Anticipation makes you bounce on your feet, itching to just break into his front door and shake him awake yourself. Fortunately for Dan Heng’s family, it doesn’t quite reach that point, because your phone suddenly vibrates in your hand with Dan Heng’s contact flashing on your screen.

Incoming call. Jackpot.

“Dan Heng,” you answer the call with no formalities whatsoever, because those aren’t needed after knowing him for so long, “come outside! I’m here to pick you up.”

“What is wrong with you,” he grumbles out. The grit in his voice is endearing and familiar and makes your breath stutter. “It’s— almost midnight.”

“I know, and you’re already asleep? You’re such a senior citizen,” you hear the exhausted sigh he makes at another one of your old-man-Dan-Heng jokes. “There's a carnival tonight. Like, one of the cool ones that only open at 10 o’clock. March just texted me about it, she’s already there with Stelle!”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me earlier?” You hear shuffling, and spot movement in your peripheral vision. Craning your head up to look at his window yet again, you see the flicker of his bedside lamp being turned on (and you can already picture it from how well you know his room—that goofy-looking toucan table lamp that you got from some vintage store years ago for him), and the curtains pull back to reveal Dan Heng in all his half-asleep glory. He looks terrible, bangs sticking up and his corny galaxy-printed sleep shirt all wrinkled. It’s a charming look, though.

“I told you, March just texted me about it! Literally five minutes ago.”

“So, you ran here just to tell me about it?”

“Well, yeah, duh,” your tone is incredulous, because he should know by now that he’s the first person you go to for anything. The first person to hear about your failing grade in calculus, or your embarrassing run-in with your middle school ex girlfriend, or the bitter orange that you had as an afternoon snack. Dan Heng’s call history is probably full of your contact (which is just your name, no fun emoticons or inside jokes, and no profile picture, much to your everlasting dismay), and every call would show that he answers every single one without fail.

And, really, if you’re going to be honest with yourself (which you really hate doing), there’s a hopefulness twitching in your fingers tonight, something carried to you through the wind. You’re thinking of the carnival, about the sticky sweet snacks that you’re going to split with Dan Heng, the ferris wheel cart that you’ll be cramped in, the view of the stars from way up there and the tender way he’ll look at you.

Because he does that, sometimes, with no explanation, and you’ve never had the strength to respond in any way but a hesitant smile and a smack on his shoulder and a stupid joke. But there’s a tote bag slung around your arm now, full of money and two water bottles and the weight of your heart.

“Listen,” you tell him after a bout of his reluctant silence, “I brought you a jacket and your scarf, because I know you’re vitamin deficient and you’ll blow away in the wind unless I hold you down. It’ll be so fun if you come with me! Please? And I’ll get you home before your family notices!”

Both you and Dan Heng know that’s a lie, because you have a tendency to drag him out for long periods of time where both of you forget to check your phones. In your opinion, it does more good than harm, because it lets you live in the moment—or so you tell Dan Heng’s parents when they question you about keeping their son out past sundown.

“I’m not vitamin deficient,” Dan Heng tells you, but the argument is weakened by the fact that you’ve had to carry around a spare jacket for Dan Heng since you were both stumbling on your tiny baby legs. He must realize that, too, because you can see the way his face softens as he looks at you from his window, peering down. Despite the minimal light, you can still see the vibrant sheen of his eyes, the way that his mouth presses into a thin line to hold back a smile.

It takes only a moment of contemplation before he lets out a yielding sigh and mumbles, “Okay, fine. I’m coming downstairs to let you in and then I’ll get ready. Don’t be loud.”

“I’m never loud!”

The call ends with a click and Dan Heng slides his striped curtains closed. Circling around to get back to his front door, you made sure to be as quiet as possible and not trample his family’s gardenias. When the door opens to reveal Dan Heng’s beautiful, sleep-swollen face, an overwhelming warmth blooms in your chest and leaves your lungs dry and aching for air. The smile that appears on your face is instinctual, as most behaviors are for you around Dan Heng.

“Hi,” you whisper, really truly whisper, because he told you to be quiet and sometimes it’s good to do what Dan Heng wants (only sometimes). His lips are still tightened into that thin line, and you think, I’ll make him laugh tonight, which is a goal you’ve always set for yourself, ever since you befriended him in first grade with a paper flower and a loud, blatant, childish proclamation of best-friend-ship.

“Wait on the couch,” he directs you quietly, stepping aside to let you in. “Get a water from the fridge and pack it.”

“I already brought two for us,” the apples of your cheeks strain with the force of your smile, and you’re trying not to giggle. The water thing—that was established forever ago, too, just like the spare jacket, and staying out late, and the toucan lamp, and the paper flower. You always shared a water bottle, reminding each other and passing one between your hands until the last drops were wrung dry from it, and then you’d spend half an hour trying to find a fountain to refill it because you never packed more than two on any given day.

“Dan Heng,” you stop him with a hand on his shoulder before he can go back up the stairs to get ready in his room, and he looks back at you with the same look that you were envisioning before. The color of his eyes has gone dim, but in a fond way, in a way that tells you his breathing is even and his pulse is steady.

You take the brief moment where his attention is on you to wrap your arms around him, the sleeves of your jacket pulling him close, warm, tender to you. Your tote bag dangles awkwardly to the side, but you try not to let it stop you from squeezing him tight, letting him know you’re here, right here.

“What’s this about,” he mumbles into your shoulder, hands going up to grasp at the back of your sweatshirt and tug you just a few millimeters closer. A gentle weight sits between your hands and in your chest and you stifle a laugh into his barely-covered shoulder.

“Nothing. Just really happy you’re coming.”

“Okay,” he says, because he’s awkward and awful and so are you, but his hands still squeeze between your shoulderblades and keep you against him. A whistle of wind makes the gutters of the house creak, and you think of the stars that you’ll see from the top of the ferris wheel tonight, glinting in the sky and in Dan Heng’s eyes.

“Let me go so I can change.” His voice is monotone, seemingly disinterested, but you don’t take offense to it, you never have. Reluctantly, you loosen your grip around him, and let him pull back the rest of the way because you can’t bear to do it yourself.

The look, the glimmer, the depth of his eyes are all still there, accompanied by a new rosiness in his cheeks that you know isn’t caused by the heat of your hands or the cold wind outside. You don’t get the chance to laugh at the waver in his mouth as he fights back a small laugh, because he’s already turning back to rush up the stairs, stance wobbling as he tries to hide from his own embarrassment, and it’s so terrible and familiar and you ache with the urge to burrow into this home and make it your own.

Your phone is flooded with dozens of texts from March, you’re sure, but even as it pushes midnight, you take your sweet time walking to the carnival, fingers clasped with each other as your jacket hangs off of Dan Heng—like it always has, like it always will.

—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—

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ghoularaki · 1 year

Note

Hello! Can I ask for yandere scenario with Mikey in which he and the darling made a childhood promise that they would get together/get married if neither of them end up finding a partner till they reached a certain age? To poor darling unfortunately never really had any luck with boys for some "unexplained" reasons and well the time is finally up and it came time for Mikey to collect his prize.

teddy bear

tw yandere mikey, bonten arc, noncon, mikey typical violence, possessiveness, forced marriage, marriage imagery/kink, dollification, hint of strength kink, unprotected sex, kidnapping

requests are CLOSED

It all started in elementary. An innocent era where time wasn’t much of a concept you could wrap your little brain around. Anticipating the relief of summer, not knowing how much you would regret wishing the months away.

On a sweet spring day is when you met Mikey. A period before he went by said name, before gangs and despair. It was just you and him under the flourish trees, colors swirling in the world.

“Manjiro,” he introduced with an outstretched hand and a tooth filled grin.

You responded with your name with a shy demeanor, not used to such brightness. Clasping his hand to yours—so chubby and small—time before his hand could engulf yours.

You two were instantly attached to the hip. If you were present, so was Mikey. Adults tried their best to separate you two in fear of stunted social growth, but anytime someone would detach your hands, tears spilled from Mikey’s eyes. You never saw a boy cry so much.

Though one day he stopped crying, stopped smiling so fully. It was that day, flowers waft in the air, he made such a silly promise. The exact age is fuzzy when he asked the damning question, but the words stay imprinted in your mind. “Hey y/n-chan, if we aren’t married by the age of 27, let's just marry each other.” The words were saccharine.

You had giggled at the question. At the time, neither of you understood the weight of marriage. And so, of course you agreed.

“Pinky promise?” He raised his hand, pinky extended.

“Pinky promise.” You twirled your finger with his. Bound together.

It all started in middle school. No blaring red signs wacked you in the face as you were always on the more reserved side. Boys never really did approach you especially when Mikey gained a name for himself. Though this never did bother you, at first. You were content with following him around like a lost puppy. This is when you met his less than savory friends. They weren’t mean, but you never really cared for swollen fists and bloody smiles.

You knew it was best to avoid gang business for your sake and Mikey’s. He despised when you got involved. If anything you learned the hard way. It was when Takemichi (or Takemitchy as Mikey not so cleverly named him) arrived. He always loved to give those he adored nicknames, you were not an exception. His doll, he called you. The name made you huff, you were anything but.

“That’s why you’re my doll. I don’t mind if you are roughed up, I will always fix you back up again.”

The words made your face so hot you could cook on it.

He wasn’t wrong though. One too many incidents was the reason, you were forbidden to join any Toman meetings anymore.

Calling upon his loyal followers, he stood above everyone else as he usually did. You sat at the top stair of the shrine, Draken standing right next to you. It was when Valhalla had not wavered and fallen. Kisaki was still at large.

It wasn’t much, but you so happened to get in the crossfire of Baji betraying Toman. An elbow to the face was all it took for Mikey to see red. He was silent. A deadly silence likened to a still sea right before whirling, twisting waves.

He could have killed the man if it wasn’t for your laugh. Fuck, did it hurt and sometimes you could feel the phantom pain, but god was it fun. The adrenaline was addicting. You simply shot the blood from your nostrils and smiled crimson. Mikey was reminded of the time you ate cherries together, the red meat stuck between your teeth. You never looked so beautiful.

Since then, Mikey never let you go to another meeting. Instead he and Draken would walk you home before treading back. You kicked up a fuss at first, but with a glare from Mikey quickly shut you up.

What Mikey wants, Mikey gets.

It truly started in high school. The death of Kisaki never sat right with Mikey. It haunted him. He wasn’t the same man he was from before. He was more subdued, angrier. Though you clenched your teeth in what could be mistaken for a smile.

You two started to drift. Mikey was falling and trying as you may to catch him, he twisted his body out of your arms.

The skin that attached you two to the hip had rotted and collapsed. You became quite lonely for a short period, but that was quickly fixed. Without the intimidating presence of a whole gang backing you up, you were a whole lot easier to talk to. For once, a boy showed interest in you. Genuine, true romantic interest. Not the brotherly love Toman offered.

In the down time before class started, you had been staring out the window watching the leaves decay into bright oranges and yellows. A knock on your desk startled you out from your daydreaming. Stood before you was a boy, a grade above you, the same grade as Mikey. He was tall with inky black hair and a puppy-like charm to him. He honestly reminded you of a German Shepherd. A blush adorned his cheeks as he asked you for your email.

Just as shy, you offered your phone to him. Charms clicked together as you had plenty hanging off the flip phone, mainly of Kuromi and MyMelody. With a promise to shoot you a message, he sauntered back to class, obviously giddy. You felt the same. “OMG was the Y/n-chan asked out?” A classmate asked.

She was right across from you, watching the whole thing. You two weren’t particularly close, but you enjoyed her company.

You hid your face in your hands at the banter. She started to poke your arm as she giggled and you kicked your feet in excitement.

Turning to her, you also giggled, “damn right I did.”

Others in the classroom observed the display you two created, also surprised at the boldness of their upperclassman.

Though word spread fast. In the end, you received no reply. You tried not to be disappointed, but it was the first time a boy showed interest in you and he didn’t even have the decency to message you back.

About a week later you saw him roaming the halls. He strangely seemed more subdued, no longer so puppyish. When he locked eyes with you, the boy scurried away. You were stunned, perplexed.

All you could do was stand there, the gaggle of students brushed up against your still body. Leaning against a window of a classroom a few feet away, Mikey watched with blank eyes. Shivering at the innate reaction of being stared at, you caught Mikey’s gaze but he offers no acknowledgement of your locked eyes. He simply slunk back into the classroom.

Never in your life have you felt fear for Mikey. Sure, cautious as sometimes it felt like he was one inconvenience away from breaking something, but never fear. A girl at your age was scared of a cracked phone screen, asshole boys, missing an assignment, what to do with your life after high school, not your life. Mikey would never hurt you, right? As the days dwindled, you were less secure in the possibility he would prove you right.

Taking a hint was never your forte. Forgoing whatever the blonde tried to communicate to you with silence, you chased after your upperclassman. The final bell had rung and you were quick to stuff your books in your bag as quickly as possible. You didn’t know much about him besides his name was Yokio and he was in the same class as Mikey. Racing to the upper level, you just hoped Mikey or Draken or really anyone from Toman wasn’t there as well.

Luck had been on your side. In the classroom alone was Yokio, gathering his own supplies slowly. He looked up at the sound of rapid footsteps. His puppy dog eyes wide in what could have been terror. Snapping back to his bag, he fastened his pace.

“Yokio, why didn’t you message me back?” You didn’t care how desperate you sounded, you wanted answers.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were taken?” Was what he snapped back.

You scoffed out a laugh, “Taken? Who told you that bullshit?”

When he looked back at you, there was ire in his eyes and now you gawked closer there was a cut on his lip and he favored his left leg. Coming for answers, only left you with more questions.

“Don’t act stupid, L/n, we both know you aren’t.”

Your face twitched, perplexed. He slung his bag over his back and limped past you, subtly pushing you out of the way.

“Go ask your fucking gangster boyfriend,” he seethed in your ear.

You glanced up at him to which he ignored and made his way down the hall. Watching his form shrink, your knuckles almost bursted through your skin with how hard you were clenching your fist. It didn’t take a lot to piece together what was happening. How stupid were you for it to take this long to click.

Stomping down the same path Yokio went down, you now had a different target. And you were pissed.

It wasn’t a shock to see Mikey still on school grounds in the same lot that he met Takemichi surrounded by other Toman members. Today it was him, Draken, Mitsuya and Takemichi. Not caring about the audience you stomped right up to Mikey and pushed him so hard, he stumbled.

“What the fuck!” You screeched.

All the boys’ eyes widen, never once have you lost your cool. Not like this. And more surprisingly, you were able to make the Invincible Mikey topple over. There is something to be said about a scorned woman.

It had been ages since you talked to your old friends and you had thought you left off on good terms. Apparently not if Mikey is spreading a rumor you two were dating.

You shoved again—this time Mikey didn’t move an inch, “who the fuck do you think you are?”

He was quick to grab your wrists, swallowing your delicate bones. You tried your best to squirm away but it was futile.

“How about let’s talk about this civilly,” Draken butted in. For a violent man, he sure did hate inner conflict.

“Yeah let’s talk civilly about the fact he’s spreading rumors that me and him are dating,” you seethed towards Draken but kept your sharpened gaze on Mikey.

“You guys aren’t?” Takemichi squawked. Mitsuya elbowed him, muttering that he wasn’t helping.

Mikey kept your gaze and said plainly, “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

You scoffed, attitude dripped from your posture. He still had his hands on you and you finally ripped yourself from him. Biting your inner cheek, the taste of blood grounded you. You weren’t being crazy about this and you weren’t going to let Mikey dismantle you like this.

“Then why did Yokio said to me, verbatim, ‘go ask your fucking gangster boyfriend?”

“Oh you’re on a first name basis now?” He was avoiding the question.

Mikey slipped his hands in the pockets of his baggy pants. His posture screamed aloof. Though the way his jaw ticked showed he was growing irritated. Whatever friendship that was left was burnt out like a used match, never to relight.

And you told him just that.

The air shifted to something colder, sinister. He straightened his back to stand taller. For his short stature he made you feel puny.

“Care to repeat that.” He was about to march to you, but Draken gripped his upper arm. The taller man shook his head to his leader, his bestest friend.

“Alright let’s just leave this for today. We can talk about this more when we all cooled off, got it?” Ever the middle man Draken was, but you didn’t care.

“Sure,” you said and turned around. They all watched you walk away. Mikey knew he fucked up but at this point he didn’t care. You didn’t mean what you said, you were just angry.

You didn’t show up to school that day or the next or the day after that. You had transferred to a school in Osaka.

The world had not been kind to Mikey. Maybe it was an act of karma or maybe he was simply cursed. The day you left was the final fracture in his glass heart. It all fell down after that. He pushed away his friends, lied through his teeth that he needed space. From his hands he built an empire of the most feared gang in all of Japan. Toman was nothing more than a childish dream.

The world was at his disposal and he thirsted for power. Yet, at the top, it was lonely. Some days he missed you, his friends and other days he resented both. How dare you leave him. He spent years trying to find you, but disappeared into thin air. You didn’t even have any social media from what he could find. It left him bitter but a smirk still crept up. Smart girl.

Mikey was sure whatever luck he had, had run out years ago until Sanzu barged into his office. He nearly shot him for coming in so unmannerly, but kept the gun down.

“I found her!” His voice was boisterous, elated.

Sanzu honestly couldn’t give two shits about you, but whatever made Mikey happy he felt tenfold.

“Where is she?”

“She’s back in Tokyo apparently to visit a dead relative,” Sanzu responded.

He waltzed further into his office and leaned up against the desk. Spying down at Mikey from underneath his nose, he watched the boss stare off with no indicator what he was thinking. Honestly, it was always hard to figure out what Mikey contemplated. Whatever you thought he was going to do, he did the opposite.

“Prepare the room.”

Sanzu grinned so hard that his scars creaked. It was about to get fun around here again.

Coming back to Tokyo was one of the dumbest ideas you have ever had and you were aware of that. You were precautious. Every step to instill your safety, you implemented it. You never used social media, you limited your internet access, kept inside, made sure not to stick to a schedule and stay the fuck out of Tokyo. Despite this, life happens.

You knew your grandmother was growing old and it came to no surprise she passed away. If it was anyone else you would have lied to your family that you were too busy to come back home, but the thought of your grandmother’s grave barren left you weak enough to buy a bus ticket.

It was true you were so busy you couldn’t even attend the actual funeral, only able to visit where she was put to rest a day later. You were sure your uncle would still be there as he was her caretaker. The thought of being exposed, out in the open with another person gave you comfort. Though very little as your uncle didn’t even own a knife. If someone came you were both screwed.

You tried your best to toss the idea away. It had been years since you seen him and you were sure he had long since forgotten you by now. But, that small part of your brain itched and dug in that he doesn’t simply forget his possessions.

No matter what, this was going to be an in and out operation. You will leave some of her favorite snacks, wish her goodbye and take the next train far, far from here. Maybe you could convince the rest of your family still in Tokyo to come to the countryside with you. The air was always better in Murakami.

A polite voice on the intercom told you that your stop was coming up. The bus came to a slow stop as it sank to let the people on and off. Lifting yourself off from the uncomfortable seat, you picked up your small bag. Thanking the bus driver, you jumped off to be greeted to the cool, night air. You made your way to the graveyard, it was about a 10 minute walk from the bus stop. If you calculated it right, you had less than 20 minutes to visit her and catch the next bus. You honestly wished it was a shorter time period as being outside for that long of a period left you anxious.

Clutching your bag, you walked briskly to the site. Maybe you could find a populated shop to reside in until the bus came. The more people, the better. The streets were sparse but enough that made you feel at least some at ease. Keeping your hood up and head down, you had headphones but nothing was playing. Again, you were doing everything to ensure nothing bad will happen.

In no time, you were at the gravesite. There was no one here. A chill rushed down your back. Fuck taking your time, at this point you will overhand throw the snacks at her grave and high tail out of there. Seething, you abandoned the idea, knowing she would have beat you to kingdom come in the afterlife for doing that.

“In and out, in and out,” you mumbled to yourself as you nimbly strutted.

Pulling out packaged strawberry mochi and taiyaki from the pocket of your oversized hoodie, you were careful to place it down near the other snacks surrounding her grave. At least she wasn’t hungry. Slapping your hands together, you whispered, “I’m sorry this will be the last time you will see me. Maybe in a next life we will see each other again.”

“Awww, how sentimental, Y/n-chan,” a sickly sweet voice chewed out.

Snapping your head up, you see the second to last person you wanted to see. There in an obnoxious pinstriped suit and hair the same color of your grandmother’s gifted mochi was Sanzu, in all his unsettling glory.

In your paranoia, you had kept tabs of Toman that then turned into Bonten. Even going as far to sneak onto less than savory websites to keep tabs on the gangsters. There wasn’t much, but you knew enough to fear the man before you. Back in the day, Sanzu was a fly on the wall, he was kind of just… there.

But here, he was a neon sign of danger. You were in Tokyo for less than two hours and he was able to pinpoint your exact location. Curling your lip up, how naive you were to think what was in the past stayed there.

Sticking your hands back in your pockets, you thumbed the knife stashed away. Your form pivoted towards Sanzu, staring him dead on. You weren’t going to be intimidated by this pastel troll.

Eyeing the gun he grasped in his hand, Sanzu was flippant with how he scratched his head with it.

“You don’t know how happy I am for your stupidity,” he mocked you.

You swiftly ignored the taunt and glanced at somewhere to run. There was a path a little further away that would lead you away from the bus stop but would bring you back to population, hopefully. Just as you were about to jump over the graves, Sanzu shot the ground where you would have landed. A scream bellowed.

You flicked your bouncing eyes to him. He must have been fucking insane to shoot out in the open like that. Sure the gravesite was empty but there were people nearby. Clinging onto the hope someone heard and would be nosey, you shook as Sanzu’s expression dropped.

“I know I just called you stupid, but let’s not be hasty,” he raised his gun to you, “come with me with no complaints or I will bury a bullet in your fucking thigh. You’re lucky Boss wants you alive.”

“Eat shit!” you frothed and made a run for it.

Having the advantage of his lanky form, Sanzu was quick to grab your hair before you could even move an inch. Hissing, you grappled onto his hand only for him to shove you away. You collapsed on the ground and grabbed the knife from your pocket. Flicking it open you were about to dig the blade into his calf when he pistol whipped you so hard your head bounced off the concrete. Blood poured from your head down into your bleary eyes, darkness crept in.

“He never said, you can’t be hurt though. Dumb bitch.”

Whimpering, you winced at the light that pours and invades your eyelids. Flinching from the sudden light, you squinted as you looked at the window disturbing your sleep. It ebbed in slowly before it came rushing in. Everything fucking hurt, especially your head. You attempted to bring a hand up to touch the offending part only to be met with resistance. No, not resistance, you couldn’t move at all.

Panic started to set in as you attempted to swivel your head to see where you were. The only thing you could move were your eyes and the slightest twitch of your fingers. Tears bubbled out as you sobbed in complete and utter terror.

A pathetic “help” lept from your throat but you might as well whispered it. Looking around with minimal movement you had, you saw you were in a pristine white, canopy bed. It was similar to the one you had in your childhood, the same one you shared with your favorite doll. The canopy was lacey along with the rest of the bedding, at least it was soft from what you could tell.

Whoever tucked you in, had to courtesy to leave you in somewhat warm clothes. Glancing down at your body, you were clad in the same material as the bed. It was a sweet ivory, similar to a very short wedding dress. It looked and felt expensive.

Just as you caught your bearings, the door was swung open. Whatever calmness you attempted to instill ranaway as the last person you wanted to stood in the door. With all your might, you willed your legs to work. All you could do was wiggle your toes. If Sanzu sent a shiver down your spine, you might as well abandon your whole nervous system as Mikey only stared at you.

Your chest hitched, terrified of what was going to become of you. The man said nothing as he slunk further into the room. He looked completely different from the last time you saw him. His skin lost whatever tanned hue he had in his youth, his hair just as pale. His eyes were darker somehow and bags heavy underneath them. He also looked skinnier but you didn’t let that fool you. Even if he was skin and bone, Mikey could take out a hundred men.

He planted himself next to you. Sitting on the edge, he leaned over to stroke your frozen cheek. His palm quickly became wet.

“Oh my dear,” his voice was sweet, but his grip turned hard, “how stupid do you think I am?”

Your lips puckered out as he didn’t stop squeezing you until your jaw creaked. “Stop,” you breathed out.

If Mikey wasn’t so close he wouldn’t have heard you. He leaned over you until you were nose to nose. “You think you are in the position to make commands?”

Locking eyes with you, he continued, “Do you know how long I have waited to see you again? You won’t run away again and I will make sure of it. I am bound to you and you to me. I mean we promised that didn’t we?”

Your brows furrowed before it hit you. That fucking childhood promise. He was still hung up on that?

“You… you’re insane,” you tried to put malice in your voice but it was so hard to move anything.

“In sickness and in health,” he replied with no mirth.

Pulling away, he climbed further onto the bed. Spreading your legs, he sat himself in between them. Truly panicking now, you tried to rip your ankles from his grasp but alas your muscles didn’t even twitch.

“Please,” you begged, “don’t do this to us.”

Mikey laughed but it was hollow, “so there is an us now? I thought you were done with me since high school.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. We can be friends again, just don’t do this!” Working the words around your mouth was difficult and the headache was getting worse.

“I think we have passed the point of being friends. I have waited my whole life for this and I’m here to collect my prize.”

Your eyes widened at the realization of the date. It was April twenty-eighth, two weeks since Mikey’s twenty-seventh birthday. You were doomed.

Mikey ignored your internal crisis. His deft hands trailed down the outline of your curves until he met the hem of your dress. Slowly he lifted up the little gown until it was under your breasts. All you could do was whimper as you watched him take and take.

He curled down to place a kiss on your tummy that was a phantom sensation. “My pretty doll,” he whispered into your skin.

Fingers crawled back down until they met your just as white panties. He propped himself back up and used both hands to delicately tear the fabric away. A stuttering breath echoed in the room as he stared at your exposed pussy.

“My pretty, pretty doll,” he repeated.

Subtly you tested again how much you could move, as he took his time to undress you like a present, the more sensation you gained in your limbs. Not enough to run away, but enough to retaliate. Knowing it was futile, you refused to give in so easily.

Just as he was about to lean back down to plant feathery kisses on your pussy, you reared back your leg and kicked him in the face with all your might.

It wasn’t enough to break his nose, but enough for blood to pool from it. Mikey lifted himself back up and locked eyes with you. As the blood dripped down to his lips, he licked it away and quirked an eyebrow up at you. An ‘what was that supposed to do?’ was written all over his face without even anything being said.

“You never knew when to give up, did you?”

With that, he pulled your hips up further onto his lap and bent your legs to your chest. Whatever gentleness he had was gone. His fingers ran up and down your exposed slit. You squirmed but he clenched down on your thighs until your circulation was cut off. Seeing you were done moving, he used one hand to hold you down and the other to pull down his pants and underwear.

It was hard to see his cock from this angle and you were honestly scared to see what was about to force its way into you. Mikey crowded you so all you could see and smell was him.

“I was going to work you through this but you just had to be a brat. It's okay, we have all our lives for me to show how much I love you.”

He tapped his cockhead against your hole, a silent warning. Fuck it stung as he bullied his way into your cunny. Tears bubbled up again as he carved his way inside you. For such a short man, his cock was long and thick.

It could have been hours or minutes until his hips met yours. You never felt so full in your life. Clawing at the sheets, you felt yourself start to relax. Mikey seeing you were finally calm enough, he gave little thrusts. You moaned at the feeling.

Taking the hint, he started to cant his hips. He slowly pulled himself out until it was just his tip and then slamming back in. A scream was punched out of you. Mikey laughed at the chain reaction. Putting more of his weight on you, his hand left one of your thighs to cradle your neck. It wasn’t enough to cut off your breathing but enough to keep you still.

Mikey kept this rhythm of fucking into you like you were nothing more than cocksleeve. Keeping you close he rambled, “my doll, my possession, my thing, mine.” He seethed out the last word.

The constant budging against your womb wiped your mind blank. At this point you just wanted to cum even if it was at the hands of him. Sensing you were both close, Mikey let go of your thigh to rub your clit. You moaned out at finally being stimulated.

Mikey groaned out as you clenched down on him. “Fuck,” he moaned as he was coming up there with you.

After a few more pumps, he came right into you. Being filled with his cum spiraled your own release, shaking and whimpering. A few more spurts came out as you clenched down one last time. Mikey collapsed right on you, not removing himself from you.

“You’re finally mine,” he breathed out relieved. Still coming down from the high, you spat, “I will never be yours.”

Mikey slithered his hand across the mattress to come caress your right hand to his. Metal clinked against metal. Turning your head, you saw a ring on both your hands.

“My stupid doll, my naive wife.”

#yandere mikey #yandere mikey x reader #yandere manjiro sano #yandere tokyo revengers #yandere tokrev #yandere manjiro x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #tokyo revengers smut #viruses #dark.web

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arkhammaid · 4 months

Text

— ˚₊‧⁺˖THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | BEFORE THE FAMILY

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. y/n meets the stark clan

content warnings. written in 3rd person + headcanonish, not edited & proofread!

word count. 0.8k

notes. first 'lore' chapter!! i'm excited and hope you all like it <3 i would love some feedback hehe and any reblogs are ofc greatly appreciated!

before...

TONY STARK

y/n l/n grows up surrounded by motorsports, especially motogp. with her mother being a worldchampion, it's only natural that fast cars and bikes are her every day entertainement.

she's raised as an only child and by a single mother, she doesn't even know who her father is. and if she's honest, she doesn't care about it at all. why would she need a father, when she has already such a cool mother?

while her mother loves her independet daugher, she still thinks she should know about her father and tells her the truth. tony stark, also known as iron man, is her father. they had a short relationship, akin to an affair but it ended with both of them being extremely busy with their lives.

but just because y/n is aware who her father is, doesn't mean he's aware that he has a daughter. and he hasn't been for a long time, not until y/n's career in single seaters properly started. he regrets meeting her so late (in her teenage years) but never holds it against her or her mother.

how do the two meet? well, it's quite tragic... with her mother losing her year long fight against cancer, y/n is left alone, since her mother didn't have any close family. not wanting to end up in forster care and stop her career, she seeks out tony and shows up on his doorstep one random wednesday afternoon.

he's shocked, but pretty much believes her, when she tells him who she is. tony is of course no fool and still does a dna test, but even if it came out wrong, he would've taken care of y/n- he immediately felt a connection.

within the same week, tony gains custody of y/n and she moves to new york, but still goes to a boarding school until she's a candidate for formula 4.

PEPPER POTTS-STARK

y/n meets pepper in the same week she meets tony. not as her step-mother, but as CEO of stark industries and close friend of her father.

they immediately take a liking to each other (they both like to bully tony) and pepper can't help but feel for the lonely teen. y/n doesn't have many friends, especially close ones and with her genius mind, she always felt like an outsider. she only truly fits in with other racers, but then it's more about her talent and they're also all boys and older than her. not somehting everyone likes...

when tony finally ask pepper to marry him, y/n is their biggest supporters. pepper is incredibly touched and makes her maid of honor. she goes even so far, to ask y/n, if she would be alright with pepper adopting her. that evening, many tears were shed.

y/n loves pepper just as much she loved her own mother and sees her as another mother figure in her life. she still doesn't call her like that, but sometime she slips up and calls her 'mama', which leaves pepper flustered and deeply touched.

HARLEY KEENER

it takes a bit for tony to introduce y/n to harley, who she meets first as brother. with harley studing in MIT, he only knew that tony had something very important to talk about and wanted him to come home as soon as he could.

but it still took two months, until harley and y/n met, but luckily they hit off. harley knows what it's like to have a smaller sister, so he stepped up as big brother again, while y/n was a bit unused to no longer being an only child. but with harley being a full-time student, it felt as if she was one.

despite harley acting like an older brother to y/n, it still took a long time for them to actually grow closer. harley lost his family few years ago, but the thought of actually having a younger sister again... well, let's say he had a few things to say to his therapist.

but a few years have passed now and they're close, despite rarely seeing each other, with harley working at SI and y/n having to travel the world for her racing.

PETER PARKER

y/n meets peter as tony's intern very early, so she experiences the process of him getting adopted first hand. with both of them beings so close in age, they're close by default.

but it also helps that they have a similar humor (proud genz) and interests. peter starts focusing on engineering, just because y/n is heavily involved with it and y/n does physics and biochem work with peter, to help him as spider-man.

when peter gets adopted and becomes a proper stark, y/n set the goal to become his favorite sibling (he always talks himself out of the pick with "my favorite sister is you", fully knowing he only has one).

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @minkyungseokie , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles, @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora, @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

#f1 scenario #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 female driver #fem!driver #female driver #tony stark x reader #peter parker x reader #harley keener x reader #marvel x reader #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ lightning on track

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spdrwdw · 5 months

Note

How much for a crying absolutely depressed and stressed reader overwhelmed and just..

With a Miguel who comforts them even tho they’re failing because they know they should have done better but they were mentally in a hell hole

I just need a hug

Help

(Don’t go to uni kids…)

I'm sorry you're stressed out, dear 💔 I know uni can be overwhelming and stressful. But you got this! You made it this far, I know you can keep going. Have some Miguel to give you comfort and also know that I am rooting for you! You got this! Same for anyone else who is burnt out and overwhelmed. We can get through it!

Art by onicli on twitter

Pairing: Miguel x f!reader

Warnings: none, just Miggy comforting you during a stressful time, no use of y/n

Summary: Miguel finds you stressed and depressed and tries his best to comfort you.

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.

Miguel made his way to your shared apartment after a long day of keeping the multiverse intact and anomalies at bay. It was exhausting at times. It really was. Sometimes he would regret even coming across the multiverse, however, he knew it was fate. He had to be the one to find it and keep everything in line. Plus, he had to keep you safe. You were the most important and precious thing in his life.

Slipping in through the bedroom window, he noticed how quiet it was. Eerily quiet. But after a second of concentration, he could hear something coming from the living room. It sounded like muffled sniffles and choked sobs. His eyes widened and he immediately busted the bedroom door open, removing it from its hinges.

You jumped up and let out a yelp in surprise before seeing your boyfriend awkwardly holding the door in his hands.

“Muñeca?” He blinked when he took a better look at your current state. You were wrapped up in one of your warm, fuzzy blankets. Used tissues were scattered all over the couch and floor. At first, Miguel thought you were sick. But, then he saw the tears that stained your cheeks and the back and forth rocking you were doing.

Gingerly, he placed the door against the wall.

“Baby, what’s the matter? Hmm? What’s wrong?” He asked as he made your way over to your side in an instant, scooping you up into his arms as he sat on the couch.

“Ven. Ven aquí, muñeca,” he cooed softly just before you began to burst into tears again, hiding your face against his shoulder.

“Shh. Shh. Hey, what is it? Why are you crying?” He asked as he rubbed your back, trying to soothe you from whatever it was that was bothering you.

You simply shook your head as you let out broken sobs.

“I-I can’t- I-I-I can’t do this anymore,” you choked out.

“Can’t do what?” He asked, puzzled. At first, he wondered if it was about you two. Was there something going on between the two of you that Miguel wasn’t aware of? Was he neglecting his girlfriend? He had been rather busy these past few days. With working at Alchemax and being Spider-Man and all that jazz. Or..was there an important date that he missed?

Shit. Was it yall’s anniversary? No. That’s next month..

“Come on, baby. You can tell me. I’m here for you. Let me know what it is that’s bothering you.”

“I’m just so stressed out. W-with everything. I am trying, Miguel. I really am,” you sniffled. “But, I feel things have just been crumbling all around me. Failure after failure. It feels like I’m burning on fumes.

First, it was that work assignment I had that didn’t seem to be up to my boss’s standards. I worked so hard with research for that damn thing. I stressed over that assignment! I put up with many sleepless nights due to it. And he just tossed it in the trash! Didn’t even spare a glance at it!

And then with school. I sometimes wonder if doing grad school is worth it. Like, is it really going to benefit me? All these assignments. All that research and pages and pages of reading and writing just for the professors to glance at it for five seconds and put a big fat F on it because the topic isn’t Nobel Prize worthy or something. It’s just too much and I feel like my brain is going to explode!” You sobbed as you let out a heavy sigh, feeling the tightening in your chest constrict your breathing.

“I just wish I could figure things out, you know? I feel like I don’t know what I am doing with my life. I don’t know who I am or want to become…and..I just want to know my place in this world.”

Miguel lightly tightened his grip around her, upset that his girl was feeling this way.

“You don’t need to figure anything out. There is nothing to figure out. You know who you are. You know your place. You’ve been working so hard to get to where you are and I am so proud of you for it, muñeca. I know things haven’t been going well, and that’s okay. It’s just a little bump in the road. That’s all.

We all have our highs and lows. I know I do. I swear I have gray hairs now due to all the stress. But, I push through it, you know. I always see the light at the end of the tunnel.”

Miguel continued to rub your back before tilting your head up and placed a kiss on your forehead and began to wipe your tears away.

“And I have you to anchor me. You keep me grounded and keep me sane. I push through because I know that you will always have my back and help me get back up should I fall.

And I am here to do the same with you. I will support you. I will let you cry on my shoulder. I will pick you up when you fall. But, I won’t let you suffer with anything on your own. No matter how big or small the issue. I will be by your side.”

You sniffled before nodding your head, closing your eyes when Miguel kissed your moist cheeks before placing soft kisses all over your face and lips.

“I think we both could use a break. From work. From School. And from protecting the multiverse. What do you say? Let’s play hooky and do whatever we want for a day or two,” Miguel suggested, a soft smile on his face.

“Really?” You asked him, letting out a shaky breath as you tried to calm your nerves.

Miguel nodded his head as he scooped you back up and carried you to your shared room, settling you onto the bed.

“Just take slow, steady breaths, baby. Everything is going to be fine and you’ll get out of this slump. Okay? Don’t stress about work. That assignment is over and done with. Move past it. And school. You got so little left to go! And in the end no one is going to care if you got an F or two. Just keep doing your best. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded your head as he helped tuck you into bed before he dissolved his suit and began to get his pjs on.

He removed his gizmo, placing it on the nightstand and turned it off. Miguel almost never turned his gizmo off, so, seeing that he did made you feel a wave of relief wash through you for a moment. At least you knew he was serious about spending the coming days with you.

As you waited for him to get ready for bed, you stared up at the ceiling, eyes glossing over with tears threatening to fall. You knew you shouldn’t be crying. There was no reason to cry. But, you just couldn’t bear another failed school assignment, or another stressful work project. You felt like a failure. Like an imposter as you try to navigate through your field of work and study.

“Hey, hey. What did I just say, hmm? No more tears. No more worrying,” Miguel frowned when he saw your glossy eyes as he climbed into bed.

Wrapping his strong arms around you, he pulled you close to him and peppered the crown of your head with kisses.

“I know. I know. I just can’t keep my mind from going back to it all,” you apologized.

“I understand.”

And Miguel did. He understood completely. He had been in those slumps many times before and he was sure he would fall into another one again eventually. But, like he had told you before, he had you to help him keep it all together.

“Just know that I am here for you, baby. You can rant to me about anything. No worry is too big or too small. But, just know that you’re not alone. I am here. I am always going to be here.”

You nodded your head as you tried to wipe away a stray tear that had managed to fall.

“Thank you, Miguel. Really. It means a lot to me,” you told him, giving him a small smile. And it did mean a lot to you, knowing that you had him by your side to support you. Knowing that he was cheering you on. It meant a lot.

“And you can always tell me about anything, too, Miggy. While I may not understand all that multiverse jumbo, you can talk to me,” you assured him.

Miguel smiled, a slight gleam in his eyes. “I know, muñeca. I know you’re here for me. And that’s what keeps me going. Your love and your support.

Now. Let’s get some sleep, okay? Tomorrow is a new day and a fresh start. Leave all that worry behind.”

“Okay,” you nodded, nuzzling yourself closer to his warmth.

"Oh..don't forget to fix the door, please," you suddenly reminded him.

Miguel let out a chuckle, tightening his grip around you a bit. "I won't baby. Promise."

His strong heartbeat began to lull you to sleep, for morning would bring you a new day with no stress. And you couldn’t wait.

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv #miguel x reader #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o’hara fic

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sluttyten · 9 months

Text

You In My Arms

Chapter 8: All I Want

full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index

summary: the first date with the girl who reigns in his dreams these days, and Haechan makes a big realization (and a few smaller ones)

length: 7,997 words

tags: exhibitionism, slowburn, friends to lovers, handjobs, blowjobs, public sex, fingering, general perversion, smut

previous chapter || next chapter (Coming Soon)

“There’s no way you’re actually doing that!?” YangYang laughs loudly, staring at Haechan where he’s standing in the doorway of their shared bathroom.

Haechan doesn’t look away from his reflection in the mirror as he readjusts his collar and checks his hair.

“Why do you find it so hard to believe?”

YangYang appears in the reflection over Haechan’s shoulder, a shit-eating grin stretching his lips wide. “Dude, seriously? It’s because you’ve been friends for years. You fucked all of the other girls in our group of friends, but never once did you show an interest in her. And now, suddenly, you’re taking her out on a date?”

Haechan meets YangYang’s eyes in the mirror. “You know, sometimes we’re just blind and dumb when it comes to who is right in front of us. And sometimes it just takes a little extra time to make a move once you realize you have feelings for someone.”

And that brings a twisted look to YangYang’s face. “Gross. Don’t get mushy and emotional on me now, Haechannie.” He shakes his head and walks away, calling back over his shoulder, “So actual feelings are involved? This isn’t just you trying to, like, wine and dine her before finally marking another of our friends off your list?”

Haechan takes one last sweeping look at himself in the mirror before he shuts the light off and turns away.

“First of all. I didn’t sleep with that many of the girls we were friends with in school. The girls in my dorm block, absolutely.” There was a reason he’d had to learn to avoid all of the girls that lived on the floor below him. “But Karina and one of Mark’s friends were the only ones we were actually close to. So, no, this isn’t me just trying to mark someone else off a non-existent list, dude. I like her.”

And if he doesn’t hurry up, he’s going to be late to their first date.

Haechan doesn’t usually feel nervous about things. He tends to just bulldoze ahead and then feel regret later instead of nerves at the start. But he feels a little flutter of something as he returns to his room to apply some fragrance, to grab his phone and wallet and a scarf and his coat.

When he turns around, YangYang is lurking in his doorway now.

“Damn, what now, Yang?” He hisses, startled at YangYang’s silent appearance. Haechan starts to step around him, but YangYang moves too, blocking his path with a hand to Haechan’s chest.

“Don’t break her heart, man.” His voice is low, a warning. This is the most serious Haechan has seen YangYang in a long time. “I like having her around too much. She’s a great friend, and if you fuck this up and suddenly she doesn’t want to be friends with any of us anymore….” He cuts himself off, shaking his head before he moves on, spitting, “Don’t scare her off with your pervy shit. She’s a good girl.”

Haechan just grins at that, heart leaping in his chest. Amused, he says, “YangYang, I know things about this woman that would make your hair curl. Don’t worry, I’m not scaring her off or breaking her heart.”

He slaps YangYang’s arm, and with a laugh, he finally steps around him and heads for the door.

Without his own car to drive, Haechan walks the several blocks from his apartment to hers. It’s a twenty minute brisk walk, and the cool air of the evening as the season takes its turn towards winter is calming. Twilight has fallen, giving the city a blue wash. Streetlights come on, the stars try to make an appearance. It’s chilly enough that Haechan thinks he can almost see his breath, and he tucks his hands into the pockets of his coat, hiding his nose and mouth beneath the curve of the scarf he has wrapped around his neck.

She’s waiting for him outside her building.

She’s bundled up against the cold too. A puffy coat and a hat with one of those fluffy baubles on top, which altogether makes her look absolutely adorable.

Haechan laughs as he approaches her, lifting a hand up to play with the bauble. “You look cute,” he beams, unable to look away as she smiles back at him. Her hand reaches up for his, pulling it down from where he’d squeezed the fluffy ball at the top of her hat.

“You look nice too, Donghyuckie. And you smell nice.” She doesn’t let go of his hand.

Her palm is warm against his, though her fingers are cold, so he laces their fingers together and brings their folded hands into the warm pocket of his jacket. That seems to throw her off slightly, because when he looks over at her, she’s just blinking, staring quietly at the pocket their hands have disappeared into, a glow appearing to her face that wasn’t there before. But then she moves closer, her hand squeezing his inside the pocket of his jacket.

“So where are we going?” She asks.

“Dinner.” Haechan starts to walk away, and she follows, sticking right by his side. “And then afterwards, a friend of mine is having a free concert by the river. He’s really talented, so I thought that might be fun. Dessert after that, if you’re interested.”

She nods, her face bright as she holds Haechan’s gaze. “Are we walking everywhere, or do we wanna take my car?”

Haechan drives, but they take her car. She chatters in the passenger seat, selecting music on her phone for them to listen to, and Haechan keeps one hand on the wheel while the other rests on his thigh. He keeps fighting the urge to reach over and take her hand. He likes the feel of her fingers between his, her palm warm on his. He likes the way that her perfume mingles with his at their wrists.

He likes her. Plain and simple.

She talks so much that Haechan wonders how nervous she really is. She looks calm on the outside, but then she’ll excitedly ramble to him about this story from her childhood for five minutes. It’s charming and cute, and Haechan listens intently to the story about her childhood stray cat that her parents wouldn’t let her keep, the one about her first trip to the beach that she could remember, the one about her memories of her first day at university and seeing Haechan then.

He’s never heard her first impression of him before, so it’s fascinating to hear it now and to see the light smile on her lips as she talks about him, eyes distant with remembrance.

“First day of orientation,” she giggles — his heart soars at the sound — and she looks ahead through the windshield. “I was so nervous because I didn’t know anyone in my orientation group, and my single acquaintance from high school that I knew there was in a completely different room, and I walk into the room they put us in. Everyone was either talking or sitting quietly by themselves and looking nervous, and I was one of the last ones to enter the room, and there were only a few seats left, so I just remember I booked it for the first one I saw. I remember looking around at everyone, at the student life volunteers who were orienting us.” Again, she laughs. “Do you remember that Xiaojun was actually one of them?”

Damn, Haechan had forgotten about that. He’d been a year ahead of them before he switched his major.

“But then I was looking around the room, and I saw you just like two seats away from me.” And there is her smile, like she’s pleased but embarrassed, and he wonders if her cheeks are filling with warmth of her embarrassment, if so Haechan wants to feel beneath his fingertips, to cradle her face in his hands as he kisses that sweet smile. But he keeps his hands to himself and just listens. “Once we started the icebreakers, it became quickly obvious that you were pretty extroverted. You were chatty and funny. Back then your hair was like this light honey-brown and your face was still squishy and cute.”

“Are you saying my face isn’t cute now?”

She rolls her eyes. “I know you know that’s not true. Your face was just rounder then.”

Haechan remembers. At freshly eighteen, he’d still been a little round and soft. He’d come to school that autumn wearing the weight of his mother desperately trying to stuff her eldest son with as much love and food as she could before he left the nest. He’d been tanned from spending his last months of freedom on the beach. His hair was only that light because he’d been trying to impress someone who, as it turned out, had no interest in him at all.

But Haechan remembers orientation too. He remembers when they were broken down into even smaller groups. Haechan, her, the person between them and one on either side of that trio were put together. She’d been a little quiet and withdrawn, and Haechan had tried to fill the silence (and talk over the only other guy in their group who’d thought he was in charge but who only came up with bad ideas), but he remembered her. He’d noticed her looking at him with this soft look in her eyes, the way she’d laughed along with all of the things he said.

“I remember you too.” Haechan nods as she quickly argues that there’s no way that he remembers her. “It’s true! I do remember you. You were quiet and cute, smart and you laughed so easily. You’re the one that came up with the idea that let our little group win the free snack vouchers, remember?”

She stares at him.

“What? Am I wrong?” Haechan glances over at her, then back at the road. “They put our orientation group into smaller groups, we were together in ours, and we were told to problem-solve. There was one smarty-pants who kept throwing out shitty ideas, I kept making jokes, the other two didn’t contribute much at all, and in the end you came up with the solution. We won snack vouchers, and I kept complimenting you on your idea. Right?”

She nods. “Right.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Haechan laughs, noticing that she’s still just looking at him. “What?”

“I just…. Honestly, I didn’t think you noticed me at all until I started hanging out with the group months later.” She bites her lip and looks out the windshield again. “I remembered everything from that day because that’s when I first started crushing on you, but I never expected that you’d remember me from then.”

They arrive at the restaurant then, and Haechan pulls into a place to park.

“You impressed me,” Haechan admits. “And then I kept seeing you around campus. We had a class or two together that first semester. When I wasn’t doing too great in the Psych class we had, I thought about approaching you to ask if you wanted to join my study group. Not that I had one, but I knew you were smart and nice, so I thought maybe I could at least study with you. But I always talked myself out of it, and then next thing I knew, I went to meet Renjun for lunch on campus one day, and there you were sitting and talking with him and Jeno.” Haechan shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips as the memory replays itself in his mind.

He couldn’t believe two of his closest friends were apparently friends with this girl. He’d watched from a short distance for a moment or two, watching her laugh with Renjun, watching her excitedly turn to tell Jeno something. Her mannerisms were so cute, and when Haechan finally realized he was being creepy by just standing there watching, he approached the table. She’d looked up at him with wide eyes, her lips parted softly, and she’d let out a little “oh!” of surprise.

After that, the rest was history.

They’d become acquaintances who had friends in common, and then their overlapping friend group kept growing until it was common to hang out together. They’d gotten to know each other better, and Haechan had become preoccupied with other people to crush on and lust after, namely Shotaro’s girlfriend, and he’d completely forgotten to realize his feelings growing for her. Until a few months ago.

Dinner is nice.

They share dishes, drink some wine, laugh and talk and probably make lovey eyes at each other quite a bit. Haechan knows that he is. Every time she laughs, he feels like he smiles so dopey. Every time that her foot brushes against his beneath the table, his heart lurches. By the time the check comes, Haechan is fully enchanted with her. Of course, he already knew that he really, really liked her. He knew that he wanted to end this night with finally getting to be with her. But now he knows he definitely wants it more long term than that. He feels like a silly young girl in a fairytale, picturing an entire future just after a first date.

The walk back to the car is the longest three minutes of his life.

He’s holding her hand, but it’s not enough.

He keeps looking at her flushed cheeks, at the shine in her eyes, and at her lips which are stained a slight shade darker by the wine. And he wants to kiss her, to hold her against him, to keep her warm tonight, and taste her on his tongue in every way.

When they reach the car, Haechan can’t hold back anymore. She reaches for the door handle of the passenger side, but Haechan puts a hand on the doorframe, and with his other hand he pulls on their intertwined hands.

She faces him with a bright smile, with a giggle. And like she knows exactly what’s happening, her eyelashes flutter and she tilts her head, and when he leans in to kiss her, she moves to meet him.

This kiss is better than the last.

Haechan feels like he’s had to wait another eternity from that night to this one, though it’s only been somewhere around a week. But every hour felt like an eon, and now it’s all coming to a point right here in this moment when she presses her body against his, her hands sliding around beneath his coat to hold onto his hips, to draw him against her as she leans against the side of her car. His fingers dive into her hair, braiding through the strands as she opens her mouth to his kiss.

He kisses her until he’s breathless, until she’s sighing his name against his lips, their breath clouding around their heads.

“Are we still going to that concert?” She asks, brushing her lips along his jaw. “Or do we want to skip and go right back home?”

The latter option sounds really good.

But Haechan wants to do this date properly.

“Concert first.” He suggests, leaving a too-short kiss on her tempting lips. “Then back to… to yours? To mine?”

“Mine,” she says with certainty. “My roommate’s gone for the weekend. And I’m sure YangYang is still at yours.”

Haechan nods and then laughs. “He threatened me when I told him I was taking you on a date tonight. He told me I’d better not scare you off with any of my pervy shit because you’re a good girl.” He kisses her again, laughing as she tries to slip him some tongue and keep him right there, but he pulls back. “I told him that you’re not as much of a good girl as you would’ve had all of us believing.”

“I’m a good girl,” she insists with a wide, mischievous grin that reaches her eyes.

“Bullshit, baby.” Haechan kisses her one last time before he reaches around her to pull on the door handle. “Get in the car, and after the concert is over, I’ll get my evidence that you’re absolutely not the innocent good girl most of our friends think you are.”

She just smiles as she slides into the passenger seat.

Again, Haechan is sorely tempted to drive back the way they came, to go back to her apartment instead of onward to the park beside the river. But he’s taking her to the concert specifically because he said he would, even if now she’s making that decision so hard to stick with.

As soon as he’s settled in the driver’s seat with the car turned on, she slides her hand over to his thigh.

“What are you doing?” He asks, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Nothing.” She just smiles, trying to look innocent, but that mischievous gleam in her eye gives her away. “How far of a drive is it?”

He types it into his phone, his toes curling in his shoes as she starts moving her hand up and down on his thigh. His GPS presents the answer, the automated voice announcing that it’s about a twenty minute drive.

“I can work with that,” she chimes, leaning her head against the headrest to look over at him. “What do you say, Haechan? You’ve been wined and dined, can I finally get a taste of you?”

Her hand slips higher, fingers brushing right along the center seam of his pants, over his balls, fondling as she finds his stiffening cock. He groans, dropping his head back. Is he meant to be able to say no to the offer? Not that he wants to say no. Sure, he’d wanted to do that whole proper date thing, but if she’s offering a handjob or road head right now, he can’t turn that down.

“Let me get us out of this parking garage, and then you can do whatever you like, angel.” Haechan hears a little shiver in his voice, excitement and arousal as he grips the steering wheel and twists in the driver’s seat, putting the car in reverse. “Just wait a minute, and then you can….”

She palms his cock again.

“You know,” she says, “I’ve been thinking of doing this since seeing you in Mr. Moon’s car. Specifically giving you a hand while you drive, I mean. Like I told you earlier, I’ve had a crush on you since orientation, so I’ve dreamed of jerking you off many, many more times before then. Among other things.”

It takes every ounce of his willpower to not look away from the car’s rear window as he backs up and tries checking his blind spots. He can’t look at her right now, no matter how much he’d like to. It’s too risky at the moment. There are too many fancy parked cars he could bump or back into, too high of a possibility that another car or a person walking could come along to hit. He focuses on backing out of their parking spot, and then passing along the curving path of the parking garage towards the exit below. But still her hand is kneading at his thigh or brushing the seam of his pants which is quickly growing strained as his swelling cock presses against it.

The moment that they’re out of the parking garage, her hand flies to his belt. When they’re sitting at a stoplight two seconds later, she’s unfastening it, fumbling it. Haechan takes his hands off the wheel and his eyes off the red light in front of them to help her undo the belt and the button and zipper of his pants. Her hand slides inside, and he moans the moment that her fingers wrap around his cock and draw him out into the open.

Her eyes gleam in the streetlights.

“No road head,” she explains. “It seems a little too risky at the moment since I don’t know how you’ll react, or how quickly you’re gonna cum.”

Haechan sneers. “What? You think I’m gonna last, like, five seconds or something? Baby, I think you already know better than that.”

She just smiles up at him. Her thumb slides in circles around his tip, and clear fluid is already gathering there, smeared around beneath her fingertip.

The light changes to green and Haechan steps on the gas.

And she starts moving her hand on him.

“You’re gonna make such a mess, aren’t you, Haechan?” She’s teasing him, and the worst part is, that he knows she’s right. He does tend to make a bit of a mess, especially when he’s sitting in a car still fully dressed. He’s gonna get it all over his pants, but at least he’s got a coat that’ll cover the front of his pants when they get to the park.

She strokes his cock slowly, but that doesn’t mean that every single motion doesn’t unfurl pleasure from the base of his spine, sending tendrils of arousal through his veins.

Haechan does his best to focus on the road, to not just melt into the heat of her palm around his cock, to not dissolve when she leans over and drools spit down onto him to ease the glide a little more.

“Fuck,” he curses, loosening one hand from the wheel to lay it against the back of her head. But she sits up instead of sinking her pretty lips around him. He doesn’t move his hand, just braids his fingers through her hair, tugging lightly when she squeezes her hand around him on the slow upstroke.

Haechan blows down the streets of the city.

He’s pretty sure he doesn’t run any red lights or stop signs. He doesn’t crash into any cars, curbs, or pedestrians. So he must be doing something right even as his focus starts to slip.

A knot of pleasure is tightening between his navel and his cock.

“If you haven’t cum by the time we get there,” she sighs, leaning closer to touch her lips to his neck — his cock twitches, a blurt of precum leaking from the tip — and she continues, “Then as soon as you put this car in park I really want to sit on your cock, Haechannie. It just looks so wonderful. Since you sent me that first video, I thought so. You’ll fill me so well, stretch me so nicely, and I bet you’d like to cum inside me like that wouldn’t you? With me riding you in the car? Like that video you stole from Renjun’s phone.”

Haechan’s hips jolt off the seat, driving his cock up into the tight fit of her fist. That video…. So hot. He’d thought about it and watched it quite a few times since he sent it to himself. The way the girl in the video’s ass had bounced, how her pussy had swallowed Renjun’s cock so nicely, and Haechan knew that his own cock was bigger than Renjun’s and it would’ve stretched that pussy even nicer. He’d fantasized too often about that, getting ridden in a hot, sweaty car, cumming inside her with his cum then dripping down her thighs. He’d wondered for a few weeks after Thailand, wondering who the girl had been, wondering if Haechan could track her down and get to experience that for himself. Of course, by that point, he’d already kind of started to realize he might have feelings for the beautiful woman who currently has his cock in her hand, so he’d given up on that brief fantasy.

She kisses Haechan’s neck again, her hand massaging just right beneath his cock tip. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Like you told me, you’ve gotten off to that video so many times. It’s your favorite.” Her teeth skim his skin, and Haechan’s heart thunders, pleasure arcing through him.

“Wouldn’t it just blow your mind, Haechan, if I told you that I’m the girl in that video?”

His mind goes blank. The world whites out for a second as his orgasm pulses through him. Only a self-preservation instinct keeps him from crashing the car as Haechan cums in sticky white ropes all over her hand and her steering wheel and his lap.

She’s the girl in that video?

She’s the girl riding Renjun in the car with the gorgeous ass and beautiful pussy, the one who’d ridden Renjun’s cock like a professional cockrider? The one with Renjun’s handprints on her ass, cum spilling down her perfect thighs beneath the sundress.

It makes sense, now that he actually thinks about it.

He knew that she’d fucked around with Renjun during that period of time, but for some reason, he’d never considered that she was the one in the video. Then that must mean that she was also the girl in the other pictures and videos. How many times had he watched her without knowing it was her? How many times had he cum, fantasizing about her body and her moans without realizing they were hers?

It’s the sound of the center console popping open that breaks Haechan out of his daze. She’s rummaging through the contents of her car’s center console until she comes up with a pack of wet wipes.

“What are you doing?” Haechan asks.

“Cleaning you up.” She pulls a wipe out, cleaning her hand off first, and her wrist, then she tries to wipe his cum off her steering wheel.

He’s silent for a moment, but then he asks, “Is it really you in that video?”

She looks up, barely more than a cursory glance, then says, “Yes. It’s me. He told me he’d told Jaehyun about the night that he and I exchanged orgasms during the movie, and Jaehyun wanted to watch us together. I was horny, he was willing to show off, so we fucked right here in this seat.” She points to the spot she’s sitting. “In the back of a parking lot on campus. That was my one request when he asked me if we could fuck for Jaehyun to watch, to do it somewhere semi-public.”

“Who’s the pervert now?” Haechan teases, but his heart is pounding in his chest, just picturing the scene from an outside perspective: her and Renjun in this car on campus. It would’ve been so easy to catch them. But right now it’s more than that, he wants to be in Renjun’s spot more than ever — to have her riding him in the passenger seat of her car in broad daylight.

“All of those pictures and videos in Renjun’s phone…. All of them with a girl, those were me,” she admits quietly, still wiping down little spots in the car. “We weren’t a thrupple, I never got physically involved with Jaehyun, never even got to watch the two of them together, but every time that Renjun and I were together there was either photo or video or audio evidence. Sometimes we called Jaehyun and he would listen in or tell us what to do. It was all really hot.”

When Haechan looks over, she’s squirming in her seat a little.

He’s still driving, but according to the GPS they’re almost there. She takes a new wipe to dab gently at the cum on the front of his pants.

She tosses the used wipes to the floor at her feet, and then she shifts in her seat.

Haechan glances over at her, curious, watching as she rearranges herself until her chest is against the center console. His heart picks up a thunderous pace. “I thought you said no road head?” He asks, moving his hand to the back of her head again.

“Hey, Lee Donghyuck. It’s not too late for me to change my mind again. Keep your mouth shut or else I won’t do it.” She threatens, but he can tell that she’s going to do it regardless of what he says right now. She’s licking her lips, eyes fixed on his softening cock still wet with his cum. “You just keep your eyes on the road. Focus on getting us to our destination in one piece because now that we’ve talked about that video, I really, really have my heart set on riding you when we get there.”

Haechan does exactly as she says. He looks ahead at the road, noticing that they have just one more light, just one more right turn after that, and they’ll be in the parking lot.

Her tongue swipes along the side of his cock.

She makes a soft hum, and then she licks again, and then, as they pass over a slight bump in the road, she sucks the soft head of his cock between her lips.

“Fuck!” Haechan groans, risking a look down.

It’s worth it. Even if he’d crashed the car right then, the glimpse he’d caught of her with her pretty lips spread around his cock, her eyes watching his face, it would’ve been worth it.

She sucks his cock, bobbing her head, tongue working to clean the cum that had spilled down his length from his previous orgasm. And she keeps moaning, humming with these little sounds of delight. His fingers tighten in her hair, and he can feel the blood rushing to his cock once more, him growing hard on her tongue.

As he turns the car into the parking lot, he tugs at her hair. “We’re here,” he says.

She sits up, letting his cock fall from her lips as she wipes at the corners of her mouth.

The parking lot isn’t full, but there is a decently sized crowd. Haechan pulls into the first open spot he can find, which just happens to be in a perfectly private spot. There’s a streetlight nearby putting off a silvery glow, making this spot just public enough to satisfy the woman in the passenger seat’s exhibitionist nature.

“Well, angel?” He asks as he puts the car in park and pulls the key out of the ignition. “Are you all talk or are you gonna come sit on my cock like a good girl?”

For a moment, he thinks she’s actually about to tell him no as she glances out the car windows. Which would be fine, of course. If she didn’t actually want to ride him right now and had just been saying that to rile him up, that’s fine. They’ll just go watch the concert.

But then she’s moving, hiking up the long skirt she’s wearing tonight, stockings on beneath it, and she’s slipping over the center console into his lap.

Haechan’s hands move to her hips. His breath catches in his throat as he looks at her, both of them face to face. There’s a glimmer of saliva at the corner of her lips, and he lifts a hand to wipe it away with his thumb.

“You’re so beautiful.” The words come out without him meaning to actually say them.

“Are you just saying that because I just had your cock in my mouth?” She smiles, mirroring his position by lifting a hand to his face as well. “Or because I’m offering to ride you?”

Haechan shakes his head. “Secret third option: I’m saying it because it’s just true.”

By the streetlight’s glow, Haechan watches her face take on a flustered expression. She shifts in his lap, her thighs and ass moving against his thighs, her knees bump against his hips. Her thumb slides along his cheek, drawing connecting lines between his moles.

He likes holding her just like this. Having her close and warm in his arms, the gentle fragrance of her perfume lulling him into a calm state where he could just sit here and look at her forever. He forgets that he has his cock out still and that she’s in his lap because she wanted to ride his cock. Her eyes are sparkling, her expression bright, and her hand on his cheek is so light that he wants to just lean into it. Of course, he still wants to feel her around his cock, still wants to have her moaning his name while he makes her feel good, her breath gasping against his lips as they rock this car and draw attention to themselves. But he’s perfectly content like this too, and that thought kinda surprises him.

Haechan is almost always horny, always thinking about sex. But right now, he’d be fine with just tucking his cock away again, taking her hand and going to enjoy the concert.

“Can we do this later?” He asks quietly, afraid of breaking this fragile moment. Her thumb twitches on his cheek, her mouth twisting a little, so Haechan quickly explains, “I want to do it right the first time. When we have sex for the first time, I don’t want it to be cramped in the car when there’s a concert happening nearby. The general public is right there, any random stranger may walk by, but…” He lifts his hand up to cup her hand against his cheek, which he leans into. “I want to take my time with you, babe. Just us.”

She smiles. “That’s a romantic notion, Lee Donghyuck.”

“I told you not to call me that.” But he isn’t so sure that he means it. He likes the way his name sounds from her lips, the way that her pretty mouth forms those sounds, curling into almost a smile around the Lee, a circle around the Dong, and then with another smile as she finishes out with the Hyuck. He would like the sound of anything she called him, honestly.

“Oh, sorry,” she teases, leaning closer until her lips brush his ear. “Daddy?”

Haechan laughs.

He pinches her cheek. “That’s not quite right either, but I like the attempt. Let’s go enjoy the concert, angel, and then I’ll take you home for some proper romance.”

She opens the driver’s side door, sliding out onto her feet, and Haechan takes an extra moment to stuff his cock back inside his pants, to grab the car keys and his phone, and as he pulls himself from the car, he checks to make sure that his coat covers up any of the stains from where his cum dripped earlier. He grabs a folded blanket from her backseat, and tucks it under his arm.

He takes her hand again, and this time she hides their hands in the warmth of her coat pocket as they walk towards the site of the show. Haechan leans into her, arms knocking together, and he starts talking, telling her about how this is his friend Doyoung, who he met through one of the music courses he took as electives during university. Doyoung is attempting to launch his career, and he’s been signed to a company, though he’s still working to make a big name for himself.

It’s a small stage with a decently sized crowd. Haechan notices that plenty of other people brought chairs for the lawn in front of the stage or they’ve brought blankets to sit on or wrap up in. Someone got a food truck for Doyoung that sits nearby with words of encouragement on the signage. They’re selling hot coffee, hot chocolate, and some warm snacks.

They find a good spot to sit, and Haechan wraps the blanket around both of them as they sit down on the grass. She snuggles up to his side, drops her head onto his shoulder. The bauble on the top of her hat tickles his chin, but he doesn’t complain. He just lets her get comfortable, and when she shivers a little more, Haechan unwraps his scarf from around his neck to bundle it around her instead.

“No,” she protests, trying to untwist it, pushing it back into his hands. “You’ll catch a cold.”

Stubbornly, Haechan just places the scarf once more around her, winding it in loops around her neck. “I’ll be fine. You’re the one that keeps shivering.”

She frowns at him from above the pile of the scarf. “That’s because someone had the bright idea to have an outdoor concert in the middle of winter.”

“Do you want me to grab you a hot chocolate or a hot coffee?” Haechan offers.

She shakes her head no very quickly, dropping her head down onto his shoulder again, and clinging tightly to him beneath their blanket, her hand twisting in his sweater. “Nope, you can stay right here. You can keep me warm.”

He’s going to do exactly that. He wraps both of his arms around her, drawing her closer.

The concert starts just a few minutes later. Doyoung emerges on the stage and sings his heart-aching ballads, his sweet love songs, brighter sounding covers of pop songs. Haechan is surprised to find that there is a group of girls going wild for Doyoung, singing and dancing along to his songs, which means that even though he’s not a big name yet, that’s the beginning of his fanbase.

Beside him, snuggled against Haechan’s side, his date tonight hums along to the pop songs.

As the concert begins to draw towards the end just an hour later, Doyoung takes a pause on the stage to scan the crowd. Haechan notices the way he squints against the lights, his hand flexing around the microphone set in the stand. The fangirls go wild, waving and calling for his attention, but Doyoung keeps looking around until finally his eyes meet Haechan’s. He grins brightly and leans into the mic.

Haechan’s heart begins to race.

He’d told Doyoung he was definitely coming tonight after the invitation went out. He’d mentioned he was bringing a girl out for their first date, and Haechan had only told him that to tease his hyung, to tell him that Doyoung really needed to give his best performance to impress Haechan’s date. But judging by the gleam in Doyoung’s smile where it reaches his eyes, Haechan is about to face the repercussions of telling Doyoung about this.

“I have a friend here in the crowd tonight,” Doyoung says, his voice magnified in the winter night. “He’s here on a first date with a girl he’s known for years and only just gotten the nerve to ask out. In his honor, our last song of the night is going to be a sweet love song! If you know the words, sing along! And even if you don’t, it’s a great song to dance with your lover.”

She sits up, lifting her head from his shoulder, and she turns her head. Haechan can feel her eyes on him. He glances slyly at her, just looking at her from the corner of his eye as he faces Doyoung on the stage. The music starts, and all around them in the crowd, couples get to their feet. An elderly couple that had been sitting in the back on a bench starts slowly dancing together as Doyoung begins crooning into the mic.

“Do you want to dance?” She asks quietly beside him.

Haechan doesn’t hesitate to push the blankets from his shoulders, rising to his feet, and reaching back down for her hand. She keeps the blanket draped around her shoulders, still bundled in her hat and his scarf too, but she lets Haechan pull her to her feet. He brings her hand up to his shoulder, holding her gaze, and she brings her other arm up to curl around the back of his neck.

When he slides his arm around her waist, pulling her body against his, he relaxes. They don’t really dance. Not properly. They just sway back and forth with their arms around each other, a juvenile dance in comparison to the grander style that some other couples are dancing right now. Haechan lowers his head to rest his forehead against hers.

This isn’t much really, but it’s the best first date he’s ever been on.

“How would you say I’m doing?” He asks, his heart beating a little nervously in his throat. “On a scale of one to ten?”

She’s quiet for a couple seconds too long. “Well, right now I’d say a three.”

His heart drops down to his stomach.

“For the dancing alone, Haechan. Don’t stress.” She smiles, tightening her arms around his neck in a way that presses their chests closer together, and he wonders if she can feel his heart pounding. Her words only slightly put him at ease, but when she laughs, it does help a little more.

“Do you want some professional ballroom dancing from me?” Haechan asks. “You want me to twirl you and sweep you off your feet?” He bends her backwards, and she shrieks out a laugh that has him quickly pulling her back up securely against him as heads turn their way.

She moves her head to the side, her laugh warm now where her lips press against his cheek.

“No need for that. Just hold me like this. And as for the rank on a scale for the overall date,” her voice is warm and bright, a lighthearted tease as she says, “Definitely a solid nine and a half.”

Haechan nods, suppressing a shiver of arousal as her lips skim along his jaw. “And the half a point deduction?”

“Because it’s too fucking cold. I’m having fun, I like this concert, but I’d so much rather be back at my place in my nice warm bed. With you.” And with those words, she kisses him, her fingers pressing into his hair and against the back of his neck.

He kisses her too. Hungrily, deeply, wanting nothing more than to tear that blanket from her shoulders, spread it out on the ground, and lay her down on top of it to get to feel her body warm and bare beneath him and around him. He wants her now.

“Fuck me,” he mumbles, cursing himself for choosing not to go through with it in the car earlier, cursing himself for not just doing dinner and then taking her home. Haechan just wants her right now.

Specifically, he only wants her.

No one else around but her. Fuck the whole exhibitionist and voyeur thing they’ve been doing. He doesn’t want to share her right now. He wants her all alone with just him in the privacy of a bedroom, tucked between soft sheets that tangle around their legs and wrinkle beneath their bodies as he drives himself into her again and again. He wants to feel her moans where their chests press together, to feel her body reacting to him in uncontrollable bursts — the hiccup of her breath when he strokes just right inside her, the twitch of her thighs against his hips, the way she’ll squirm and circle her hips as her orgasm approaches, her pussy squeezing around him trying to draw him deeper, deeper….

The whole rest of the world fades away.

The singing, the music, the crowd, even the wintry chill.

Everything is her.

Her breath, her perfume. The heat of her mouth and her body. The feel of her hands in his hair, her body in his arms, the throbbing of their hearts. Her voice just a breathy sigh of his name, lips making the syllables of his name sound perfect. “Lee Donghyuck,” she sighs, “Can we go?”

As if he could deny her anything she asked right now. She could ask him for murder and he’d probably do it. The stars, the moon, the whole damn galaxy and beyond.

Is this what it is to be in love?

Is he in love?

He lowers his mouth to her throat, lips moving along the column of her throat, tongue tracing along the rapid beat of her pulse. Her fingers tighten in his hair with a quiet gasp.

A million moments flash in his mind. The past, the present, the possibilities of the future. Her.

Damn it. He’s in love.

He doesn’t spare another glance towards the stage. Doesn’t pay attention to anyone he passes by as he pulls her along to the car. Or maybe she’s pulling him. Either way, they’re racing quickly towards where they parked the car.

Luckily it’s a shorter drive from here back to hers than it had been from the restaurant to here.

“I want to fuck you in your bed. Properly.” Haechan gasps as she pins him up against the driver’s side door of the car. Her lips are on his again, her hands gripping the front of his coat. “Just wait ten minutes, babe, and—“

She kisses him quiet, and he lets her. For now. She can take anything she wants right now. But as soon as they’re in her apartment, he’s going to be in charge. He’ll have her gasping and sighing and being such a good girl for him.

“I’m so tired of waiting,” she whines. She drops her forehead to his chest. “Do you know how long I’ve liked you, Haechan? How long I’ve wanted you like this? I feel like if we don’t fuck within the next thirty minutes I’m going to explode.”

Amusement and arousal swarm through Haechan’s mind, obscuring any other possible forms of thought.

Here she is, whining for him to fuck her.

“Get in the car.” He swats a hand down against her ass. “The sooner you do that, the sooner I’ll have you home. How was it that you phrased it? Back at your place in your nice warm bed. With me. Passenger seat, princess. Keep your hands to yourself, and we’ll get there much faster.”

Of course, she takes his instructions to heart, and no sooner has she buckled her seat belt and he’s backing out of the parking spot than she’s got her hands on herself.

She makes it difficult to focus on driving when he can see her hand on her chest, her other hand lifting the long hem of her skirt revealing an utter lack of panties again. His hold on the steering wheel slips, the car swerving as he turns out onto the main road.

She keeps her hands to herself certainly. Warming herself up, getting herself ready for him.

The world tonight is painted in hues of lust. In vivid lusty reds smeared like lipstick over skin and smooth silky shades of black, shimmering yellows and golds of headlights, the amber and orange of streetlamps flashing over bared skin in the passenger seat. Green lights spark through Haechan’s consciousness, only noticing them long enough to keep speeding forward, his hand inching across the center console to her bare thigh. Electric blue blur of the letters on the radio display in the dashboard, spelling out the titles of songs that Haechan can’t even hear over the sound of his own pulse and the sound of her voice growing raspy with lust around each sigh and moan, the soft whimpers of his name as her fingers move. There’s the purple shadows in the indents where his fingers press in, spreading her legs, pulling her thigh toward him so when he next glances over he can see it. The pretty shade of her pussy around her fingers.

Haechan could paint a whole new world with the colors he sees right now. And in that world it would be only him and her, this woman in the seat beside him right now.

She cums on her fingers, his name on her lips.

Haechan is no artist or poet, but in that moment, as he pulls up to park at her apartment building, as he looks over at her where she��s all but melted into the passenger seat with a satisfied smile on her lips, he thinks he could be.

He could paint a portrait of her like she is right now and hang it in the Louvre. He could write poems for her, about how she looks right now, how she makes him feel, and he would happily hear them read across the world.

He wants them all to know. Every single person.

He’s in love.

previous chapter || next chapter (Coming Soon)

a/n: I'm genuinely so excited for y'all to read this chapter and the next one! I know how long you've all been patiently waiting for this slow burn to reach the peak where you finally get the burn, and I swear to you that it's finally coming in the next chapter. This chapter gave you just that little taste. But what do you think! Please let me know all your thoughts because I'm loving the feedback (both the compliments and the critiques! Keep them all coming!) Thank you so much for reading, and I really can't wait for next Tuesday to come for y'all to get the next chapter 😉

#haechan #haechan smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct #lee haechan #yima #nct dream #nct 127 #nct 2023

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msbigredmachine · 19 days

Text

New To This - Chapter 7

MASTERLIST

Parking her bike next to the sidewalk, Delilah pulled out her phone and dialed his number via the FaceTime app. She couldn’t help but smile a little when his bearded face popped up on her screen, a hoodie over his head and sunglasses covering his eyes. He had to be out in public which explained the attempted disguise.

“Ayyyy, wassup baby girl?” Josh smiled brightly at her through the phone. “I was just about to call y-”

“Are you back in town?” she asked.

“Yeah, got back last night. Why? Ya miss me?” he teased.

“Can you meet me? I need y-...need to talk to you.”

His brows furrowed with concern. “Ay, you good?”

She didn’t mean to sound impatient but she craved his presence right now. “I’m headed to President’s Park. Can you meet me there?”

“Yeah, let me finish up with grocery shopping. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Okay.” Twenty wasn’t too bad. There wouldn’t be too much time to wrangle with her angry thoughts, which seemed to be the only thoughts she harbored lately thanks to her infuriating fiancé.

Josh pulled up in a Cadillac Escalade. His car collection was the stuff of dreams. WWE was definitely paying him well. When he stepped out, she found her heart racing a little bit. Man, he looked really good. Only he could make a simple tank top and joggers look fire. “Nice ride,” she greeted, ensuring her hug was strictly sideways. If he noticed, he said nothing. Thank goodness.

“Nice bike, ah-yeet!” he quipped back, making her laugh. He opened up the back of the truck and pulled out a bag filled with groceries. “I brought snacks,” he offered, bringing out a bottle of beer and handing it to her, helping her inside the back of his spacious trunk.

“Thanks.” They sat shoulder to shoulder, basking in the quiet of the empty parking lot overlooking the vast park. Delilah was reminded of all the tailgate parties from back in high school, all of which had involved Andre, when things had been so much less complicated.

Inwardly, Josh admitted that he missed Delilah. This was their first face-to-face meeting in two months thanks to his constant traveling, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to her phone calls and FaceTime chats, answering her whenever he could. Her enthusiasm was infectious and he was glad to be there for her when she needed him.

“So…you wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?” He finally broke the silence, looking her way. “Cuz you do not look fine.” He paused, smiling cheekily at her. “I mean, you fine, but-”

“Stop.” Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, she presented him with the letter that had caused all this chaos. She told him what happened, leaving out the condom part of course. It should have been weird talking to him about her personal life, but they’d been conversing for a few months now and he always seemed happy to let her talk his ear off about wrestling and more. Having the guidance of a man of his influence was exactly what she needed to help her stay positive about her new career shift.

“So long story short, you keep expectin’ him to come around and he ain’t?" Josh asked, knowing the emotions she was dealing with all too well.

Delilah shook her head, tossing a macadamia nut into her mouth. “No, and I’m tired! I swear to God I just wanna throttle his ass sometimes,” she griped, “Or hit him with a Spear or something. Drive my shoulder right into his gut, ya know?”

"Why you still with him, then?" Josh said pointedly, almost regretting the eagerness in his tone when she cast a questioning glance at him. He played it off with a shrug of his tattooed shoulders. "I mean, if he’s so unsupportive, why put up with his ass? Why not just leave?"

Because it was unfathomable to her. Despite the fact that she complained about him almost constantly these days, she never considered leaving him. At least not seriously. But the offer from WWE had compelled her, for the first time since embarking on this journey, to understand that choosing her career could possibly mean leaving Andre behind. She felt he was starting to realize it too and didn’t know how to handle it.

Swinging her legs absently underneath her, she shielded her eyes against the sun. "He wasn’t always like this," she defended her man. Which was the truth. It hurt that things had changed so much.

Josh stared at the woman next to him. She was twenty-four years old, which was way too young to be worrying over a miserable relationship in which she wasn’t even married yet. "How long have y’all been together?" he asked, pretending that he cared.

"Since I was fifteen, so nine years," she answered. "Engaged for almost two years now."

Josh swallowed another long gulp of his beer. "Why you wanna get married?"

Delilah thought about her answer. Because it was the logical next step for any woman to take, according to her mother and aunties at least. Because it was the easy choice. “Because I love Andre and I wanna be his wife," she finally said, shrugging her shoulders and staring at the crisp Jordans on Josh’s feet. She understood that her reasoning was naive, but at the time she accepted Andre’s proposal, she was young and bright-eyed and believed in fairytales.

"Why you wanna be a wrestler?" Josh asked next.

She didn’t have to think too hard. "For years, I wondered if I could cut it. My late dad and I watched Raw every Monday night.” She smiled at the memories. She missed him. She could have done with his advice right now. “My friends at school were obsessed. There was no Tuesday when we weren’t talking about it. Because I was so athletic, I had the best chance out of all of us to make it if we really wanted to. I took one step further because I had to know for certain."

Josh nodded slowly, processing the information she had just given him. "Well, the higher-ups think you got somethin’," he gestured with the letter in his hand. "So whatchu gon’ do about it?"

Delilah snatched the letter back and rolled her eyes at his question. “Um, that’s why you’re here, you’re supposed to tell me.”

“Advise you? Yeah. Tell you what to do? Naw,” he clarified, leaning back in his seated position to observe her. “No matter what I say, the decision is ultimately up to you, which is something you gotta seriously think about when WWE hires you. What Tank say?”

“He’s waiting for my decision on the flight tickets.”

“Meaning he’s on board. So that leaves Andre.”

Shaking her head slowly, Delilah stared at her hands, using the brightness of the sun as an excuse to avoid his gaze while she fought to keep her composure. "To be fair," she whispered, "I'm asking him to drop everything for me."

Tossing his empty beer bottle into a bag of trash on the ground in front of them, he reached across her lap to grab the bag of trail mix. It would have been easier to ask her to pass it, but for some weird reason he wanted to get a little closer to her. "If it were the other way around, would you do the same for him?" he asked.

It really shouldn’t have been this easy baring her soul to Josh, but it was. For some absurd reason, she felt that she could trust him. "Yes, I would. At least that would have been my answer before I started training," she confessed. "Part of the reason Andre let me enroll in Tank’s school was because he thought I would get it out of my system. And I knew that. I knew that he wasn't expecting it to become what it is now.” She swallowed, tears stubbornly piercing through the corners of her eyes. “You shoulda seen the look on his face when he opened that letter. It was like I unleashed some kind of hell that we could never return from. Like I ruined his life. Maybe I have.”

The complete lack of support from her future husband, to the point that she was doubting herself, made the Samoan angrier than he should have been. Her relationship was none of his business, but since getting to know her, he felt like Delilah Parrish had now become his business. He wanted to protect her, encourage her, make sure that she realized her full potential. And if her fiancé was the problem, then that was a problem for Josh.

Wanting to shift some of the focus off of herself, Delilah cleared her throat and looked at the big man with wide apprehensive eyes. "Please be honest with me, Josh. This whole wrestling thing…is it worth it? Is it worth sacrificing everything I know? Should I rip up that letter and return to the stability of a normal life?"

Pursing his lips, Josh rolled his shoulders. In his opinion, she was not ready to hear the truth. And as open as she had been with him, he wasn't exactly ready to reciprocate. But he did owe her a candid response. And judging from the way her fists gripped the edges of her seat, she was expecting nothing less from him. She was looking to him for answers that nobody else could really give her, and he wanted to be the one she could lean on.

"For me, it was," he admitted. It was his turn to gaze at his palms. "I know the hell I went through to get to where I was in the business before I got married. I worked too fuckin’ hard for too many years to watch it go down the drain. Especially to be with someone who wanted me to give it all up."

Delilah wasn’t sure why her heart sank, but it did. “So you are married.”

“Separated,” he corrected, “The longer I was away from home, the more our marriage suffered. We tried to make it work for our sons, but it wasn’t happening. This business takes a lot outta you, uce. You gotta figure out for yourself if the sacrifices are all worth it.”

Delilah expelled a long breath and placed a comforting hand on his bicep. "I’m sorry," was all she could say.

Acutely aware of her touch, Josh struggled to reconstruct the wall he had built around his private life. He didn't like letting people in, and the fact that he’d easily done so just now, unsettled him. "But that's me though. Don't let my decisions affect yours," he added quickly, scooting out of the truck and landing on his feet, breathing in the outdoor air. He turned to face her fully, smoothing his hands over his pants. "Go to Orlando. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. Even if nothing comes out of it, it’s an experience you’ll carry with you forever."

Suddenly overwhelmed, all Delilah could do was nod, wrapping her arms protectively around herself. So many thoughts were running through her mind like a malfunctioning treadmill. Making the mchoice seemed so simple before, but now she was more torn than ever.

Josh saw right through her trepidation. "Hey, come here," he said, stepping between her open legs to wrap her up in a warm embrace. It was a bold move on his part, and he waited to be pushed away but it didn’t happen. He heard her soft sigh, felt her chin on his shoulder and her arms tighten around his back. Fighting the urge to dip his face into the crook of her neck, he held her loosely, one hand resting just above the curve of her backside.

"I been watching, baby girl,” he whispered in her ear. “You got so much potential, a chance to be great in this business. Plus, you sexy as fuck," he added, chuckling when she smacked his arm. “Homie, I’m engaged. To another man. You cannot be saying stuff like that to me,” she warned.

He merely shrugged. “Just cuz you engaged don’t make it any less true.” When she gazed up at him, he caressed her chin with his fingers. "All I’m saying is, the only thing holding you back right now, Delilah, is you."

This was way too intimate. Her skin prickled from his touch, both on her chin and on the small of her back. Her loins tingled from the lustful twinkle in his eyes, the drag of his teeth over his bottom lip. The erotic fantasies she'd been keeping at bay for months resurfaced, causing her heart to pound. He was getting too close. She had to stop it before she went too far, before she did something she couldn't take back. Gently but deliberately, she peeled herself out of his grasp and made a point of snatching the bag of trail mix to keep her hands busy. Thankfully, Josh read the room and took a step back, tucking his hands into the pockets of his joggers. She was grateful for the space.

"So what’s it gonna be?" he inquired, “To go or not to go?”

Delilah chewed pensively as she pondered her decision. It was safe to say that she was convinced to take this chance she may never get again. With a shrug, she looked him in the eye, hers glinting with steely determination.

“Yeah,” she said. “I think I’ll go.”

-----------------

Thoughts?

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

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#jey uso #main event jey uso #jey uso smut #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso imagines #jey uso fanfic #jey uso imagine #jey uso x black reader #jey uso x oc

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jkirschteinsgf · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝖺𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉¡𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗂 × 𝖿𝖾𝗆¡𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

synopsis ; you're stressed out trying to plan your best friend's birthday party and end up talking back to denji. what's better that making up with sex?

warnings ; denji is 18 and the reader is 19. using of pet names such as "babe". the reader invokes god a few times. denji tries to be dominant but he's a puppy. vaginal sex. oral (both recieving). 69. nipple sucking. fingering. the phrases "you're so slow at everything" [...] "slow down" are inspired by a tiktok.

a/n ; this is my first time writing smut so don't be too hard on me. it's also my first time writing in english, which is not my first language so i apologize in advance for the mistakes. i wanted to write a hard smut with dominant denji but i just can't, he's such a puppy. that's it, i hope you'll like it.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

you loved denji. seriously, you really loved him madly. but, you know, sometimes he was capable of making things really hard for you, especially in stressful situations.

during your best friend's eighteenth birthday party, for example. you had spent weeks planning that surprise party and you wanted everything to be absolutely perfect, starting with the fact that she didn't have to find out anything.

you knew your best friend since elementary school, that's why you also knew that in eighteen years of life no one had ever been able to organize a surprise birthday party for her, she always ended up finding out everything immediately and her favorite entertainment was to torment you to make things up to you more difficult.

for her thirteenth birthday you were tasked with taking her out while her mother decorated the house and brought the guests in, but she – who had already found out everything – insisted on staying at home, just for fun while you racked your brain to find an excuse to take her out.

but this time perhaps you succeeded. your best friend apparently didn't suspect a thing about the party you and power were throwing for her and in about twenty minutes she would have arrived at hayakawa's house convinced that she was spending a quiet evening in the company of her friends and her crush (hayakawa himself).

in fact, the main problem at the time was denji.

certainly he would never do anything mischievously to get you in trouble, but sometimes his naivety could be annoying, and quite a lot.

he wasn't stupid, but at times it seemed like he didn't use his brain to reason, completely devoid of any rational filter, and for you, who needed all the support you could get at that moment, it was frustrating.

you loved your best friend and wanted everything to be perfect for her special day, but with denji continuing to act like… denji it only got more complicated.

for example he had decided to use your smartphone to play subway surfers and the battery had run out, so you had to retrieve the number of the pizzeria online and call the delivery guy on power's cell phone.

then he thought that the dj that hayakawa hired was hitting on you and almost ended up in a fight with him. fortunately, himeno convinced him to stay by incrementing his pay, but denji continued to glare at him throughout the whole evening.

and last but not least he forgot to put the beers you asked for in the fridge and now, minutes into the party, they were still disgustingly warm.

it was too much for you and, thanks to the stress, the heat and the imminent arrival of your friend, you had blurted out against him.

«i'm sorry, babe. i–» he tried to apologize, but you were really at your limit. «enough.» you sentenced. «is it possible that you are so slow at everything?»

he didn't answer, but put his head and ears down like a puppy and you felt extremely guilty.

you regretted what you said an instant after you did it, deep down you didn't really mean it. sure, denji certainly wasn't the smartest man on earth, but he wasn't a fool – maybe just a little bit every now and then – and most of all he was your boyfriend.

you loved that naive side of him that always made you laugh, even when you were angry and, even if his superficiality had bothered you that evening, many times his levity had brightened your day.

he just had… a particular way of thinking.

you were about to apologize, but, for some reason, you didn't. the delivery guy had arrived and you had to pay, beam was drinking the beers instead of putting them in the fridge and you, on the verge of a crisis, hadn't said a word to your boyfriend.

«oi, angel just texted me, they're five minutes away from here.» hayakawa told you and you had to postpone your conversation with denji until later.

«okay guys» you said. «turn off the lights and hide, be prepared to yell "surprise" as they arrive.»

in the end the party had been a success. your best friend really didn't suspect anything and was happy with the surprise. the dj had played some great music and the pizza was delicious, you all had a great time and danced and drank until late, so now only hayakawa (of course, that was his house), power and denji – who lived with him – were left.

you were going to stay over, and your friend, a bit tipsy, dozed off on hayakawa's legs and seemed happier than ever.

«okay bro, goodnight.» denji said after he finished tidying up the kitchen, hayakawa waved back in response.

«power, don't stay up late.» he added then, turning to the girl. «you're not my dad.» she replied. denji smiled and tousled her hair with a loving gesture of his hand, then he slowly walked towards his bedroom, giving you a look and a nod to invite you to go with him.

you followed him, feeling you had to apologize for what you said earlier. his expression after you told him that thing was enough to haunt you all evening.

denji let you in and then closed the door behind you, starting to undress, first unbuttoning a few buttons on his shirt and then pulling it off his head as if it were a t-shirt.

you observed his toned body in the dim light of the abat-jour as he threw his shirt somewhere in the room, you remained leaning against the door. while your mind elaborated the apology speech to address to him your hormones had very different plans.

you had been drinking a bit that night and were unjustifiably excited by the sight of your boyfriend half-naked in front of you, patiently looking at you waiting for your words.

«listen, denji, i–» but he didn't let you finish the sentence, because with a gentle move he took your face in his hands and began to kiss you sensually on the lips.

you felt your legs giving out and you clung to his bare shoulders to keep from falling to your knees.

«i know you're sorry for earlier.» he said between kisses. «i accept your apology, now try to make up for what you did.»

he grabbed your hair and pulled it back to get more access to your neck, which had started kissing and sucking in some spots.

even though you've been dating for a while, every time denji approached for a kiss or a caress you felt like a cloud of butterflies was flying crazily in your stomach. and you loved it.

«sit on the armchair, let's start.» he commanded. you did as he said and went to sit down, he reached you with slow movements and knelt in front of you, gently placing his hands on your knees and spreading them with unexpected force, making you whine in surprise.

you could feel his warm breath against the sensitive skin between your thighs, quivering with anticipation of the things he would do.

he kissed the fabric that covered your pussy, pulling it lightly with his teeth. you arched your back looking for more, but he held you firmly with your ass on the chair.

when it came to sex you were a little impatient, denji, on the other hand, loved to savor every second of the experience, torturing you with his slow and thoughtful movements.

«you know i won't be gentle to you tonight, right?» he said tilting his head to one side. you nodded vigorously, you just wanted him to fuck you so hard you forget your name. weird way to apologize.

he reached under the skirt of your dress and grabbed the edge of your lace panties pulling them down your legs with sensual calm, throwing them somewhere in the room. «you won't need those anymore.» he added with a smirk.

he arranged your legs on his shoulders and started to lick your pussy as if it were a dessert, slowly driving you crazy under the touch of his tongue, holding you still with his strong arms.

with circular movements he began to stimulate your clit, faster and faster eating you out as if he were drunk on you. you moaned covering your mouth with your hand in order to not wake up the others in the living room, and you could feel denji grinning against your pussy, increasing the speed and the depth of the movements.

he used two of his fingers to penetrate you as he continued to lick you, his face buried between your legs. you had your head thrown back against the velvet-covered back of the chair, holding on to the armrests to keep you from starting to moan loudly.

«oh, fuck. denji, slow down. i-i'm about to come.» you said gasping for air. in response he laughed softly making his voice vibrate against your pussy and making you tremble with pleasure.

«i thought i was slow at everything.» he replied, using your words against you as a revenge, now he was looking straight into your eyes as he kept fingering you, deeper and deeper.

«oh, my love.» you moaned, sighing, you felt the orgasm coming and your velvety walls tightened around his fingers. you would like him inside you, you would like him to make you scream, regardless of hayakawa and power in the other room.

even though you came, he hasn't stopped fingering you, now his fingers slowly slipped in and out of you and denji watched them in ecstasy as you shiver with overstimulation.

«s-stop, i already came. i need a minute to–» but you were too worn out to finish even one sentence that night.

«you came, but i didn't.» denji replied kissing you lightly on the mouth. «strip.» he commanded you again, pointing his warm brown eyes straight into yours.

you did as he said, standing up and pulling off your dress and bra as he went to sit on the bed. now you were completely naked and a little unsteady on your legs, you were about to take off your heels, but he told you not to. «i find it hot. you all naked with your heels still on.» he explained with a little smirk, denji had some weird kinks sometimes.

however, you didn't remove them and walked towards him. denji lay down on the bed, raising his head just enough to see you. «sit on my face.» he said with an eloquent wave of his hand.

you did as he said, crawling onto the bed and letting him guide you to his mouth, to pick up where he left off.

he started licking your pussy again, but in the meantime you could hear him undoing his pants zip.

«do you want me to do it for you?» you asked as you ran your fingers gently through his hair. he nodded and let you switch positions to form a sixty-nine.

you gladly did it, freeing his cock from the fabric of his underwear and starting to masturbate it with the precum as a lubricant. denji had the perfect dick, literally. as he fucked you it felt like he was made for you and you couldn't imagine doing it with someone else.

you liked the shape, the thickness and the way he used it to please you. denji liked giving more than receiving when it came to sex, so you never had many opportunities to suck him off, since all the time it was always him who preferred to satisfy you, and not vice versa.

so you were intent on giving him the best blowjob of his life, if only denji hadn't switched his fingers to his tongue once again just so he could say «let's see who comes first.»

«that's not fair!» you protested. «i've already came, i'm more sensitive!»

«whoever comes first must suffer a penance.» he replied, ignoring your point, then put his mouth on your pussy again and started penetrate you with his able tongue.

you buried a moan by taking the tip of his dick into your mouth, licking the precum that was leaking down his length.

he was too big for you to take it all in, so you decided to focus on the top and use your hand to wrap it all around.

but, despite denji's moans, which gradually became louder, you couldn't help but coming first, trembling and quivering, without being able to keep you on your knees anymore.

denji's dick was about to explode, but you knew your boyfriend's durability and you knew you were far from done.

he left you a few moments to recover, you lay on your back on the bed while denji finished undressing completely and took off your heels, placing them near the armchair, as he caressed your legs and ankles.

your boyfriend was so thoughtful and caring towards you that you were even more sorry that you were rude to him before.

you wanted to tell him and apologize, but before you could, he smiled. «penance!» he exclaimed, happy as a child. «i will choose the position.»

his dick was still hard and you could even see swollen veins on it, looking forward the moment he would fuck you.

you were emotionally drained and you just wanted to have him inside you to feel him close, to feel that he wasn't mad at you. you couldn't bear to hurt his feelings, and you couldn't bear an abandonment in that case.

«do whatever you want, babe.» you said, running your fingers through his blonde and soft hair.

you loved him, you loved him, you loved him.

he smiled back at you, resting his cheek on your hand that was stroking his face. he bent down to kiss you and positioned himself between your legs, sliding into you slowly and taking your breath away.

«oh, god.» you said clinging to his shoulders and digging your nails into his skin. perfect. he was just perfect.

«no, not "god", my love. it's me.» he whispered in your ear as he slipped deep inside you.

«oh, denji.» you moaned, wrapping your legs around his hips. he grabbed your thighs and started moving inside you with deep, strong thrusts.

you were squeezed between his toned body and the mattress, but you couldn't feel happier than in your boyfriend's arms.

he was hitting just the right spot and you had to desperately try not to come so fast, you didn't want it to end, you just wanted to have denji inside you for a little longer.

he was kissing your neck, sucking hard on your throat, while one of his hands was holding your body close to his, the other was grabbing your boob.

«oh, denji, please. i'm coming. oh, lord please have mercy.» you whined clinging to him, feeling your whole body burning with pleasure.

denji smiled and reached up only to grab your hips with his hands and go even deeper with the thrusts, eliciting a scream that surely hayakawa and power must have heard.

«c'mon babe, let's come together.» he said with his smooth voice. you nodded, almost crying out of pleasure, and you pulled him to you to kiss him passionately.

you came first, obviously, moaning loudly as if there were only you two in the house, he came few seconds after, filling you with his cream, gently slowing down with thrusts.

you were gasping for air, shocked by one of the best fucks of your life. denji, exhausted, lay down on your chest, wrapped in the softness of your breasts.

«holy shit.» was the first phrase you were able to pronounce, that made him laugh.

you two stayed like this for a while, with you running your fingers through his hair and him softly kissing your chest, gently sucking your nipples as you liked.

«it was amazing.» he said smiling against your skin.

«i'm sorry, denji.» you interrupted him. «i shouldn't have told you that, it was rude.» «don't worry.» he replied. «you were tired and definitely stressed out. i know that you love your best friend and you wanted to throw the best birthday party she ever had. it was my fault, i was annoying you.»

«no, don't say that!» you said, worried. «don't even think for one minute of justifying me. i know i was burned out, but you didn't do anything wrong. it was a terrible attitude of mine. you were actually perfect. you inflated the balloons, you picked up the cake, you bought plates and glasses, you even bought her gift for me! i couldn't wish for anything better.»

he lifted his head a little in order to look at you, he was so sweet and still so young, but his words made you realize how grown up he really was for his age.

«i know, [y/n], but you too have done a lot. that's why i'm not mad at you, i could never be. sometimes we don't know how to manage our emotions and this makes us frustrated, even if it's wrong, sometimes it happens to pour this frustration on the people we love. it can happen, we are human.»

«you are... much more mature than i'm used to think of you.» you confessed, a little embarrassed by that superficial thought.

you fell in love with denji because he made you laugh, he was free, reckless, and sometimes lacked the brain-to-mouth filter, but now that you two have been dating for a while, you're discovering that there's more to him than just the braggart mask.

he laughed and then dropped his head on your chest again, caressing your soft and smooth skin with his sinful and persuasive touch.

«wanna do it again?» he asked you, hoping for an affirmative answer.

«don't even try!» it's hayakawa's voice coming from behind the door, power's screeching laugh accompanied it and the two of you looked into each other's eyes and both bursted out laughing.

#chainsaw devil #chainsaw man #csm #csm smut #chainsaw man smut #denji x you #denji x reader #denji smut #x reader #chainsaw man x reader #denji x y/n #chainsaw man x y/n #aki hayakawa #power #power chainsaw man #smut #denji chainsaw man #aged up denji #aged up characters

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seoafin · 1 year

Text

dog days are over | chapter four

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags (for this chapter): NSFW, fem!receiving oral, menace geto.... word count: ~6.1k

fic masterlist read on ao3

Satoru is mad at Suguru.

You’re sure of it. That was why Satoru kissed you that night in the garden. Once you reached the obvious answer, you were relieved, satisfied, and then panicked. If there was one thing you dreaded the most, it was coming between Satoru and Suguru, especially when they were fighting. To you, it was always better to steer clear of everything their heightened emotions entailed. You are sure Satoru would come to regret it, if he didn't already. You don't know how to face him again.

You blankly stare at the ceiling of your room. It’s been a week since you last saw Satoru and Suguru and Shoko. Or the kids. You had come straight home that night and had fallen asleep in a heap of exhaustion, a brief reprieve before the dull gray sunlight of the winter morning had woken you up again. The memories of the previous night paralyzed you in shock. Satoru kissed you.

It hadn’t been…unpleasant.

Panic seizes your chest. You whip up, tearing the sheets off of you, breathing heavily. You will yourself not to think about it. There is nothing to think about. It happened. Satoru had a score to settle with Suguru. It happened. Satoru gets competitive and sometimes, when he and Suguru really fight, they hurt each other with a singleminded focus that always draws in casualties.

You are a casualty.

You’d be off to Nagoya tonight for a couple of days, assisting the local jujutsu sorcerers with a quick footed curse that had been giving them much trouble. You’d stop by the school to drop off paperwork, and then you’d catch a taxi to the train station where an auxiliary manager would meet and brief you. There was no reason for Satoru and Suguru to be at the college. Shoko would be there, but you knew her schedule well enough to know she’d be buried in her own duties to seek you out. Utahime was visiting on the weekend, and she wanted to finish up her paperwork early before she came.

It’d be easy. If you could just muster the strength to get up and leave your apartment. You don’t know how an everyday task can turn so daunting in a blink of an eye. The thought of running into Satoru makes your blood pressure rise. If you ran into Suguru, you’d probably kill yourself from the shame.

Outside your window, a tree branch rustles. You look outside. There's nothing there.

Slowly, lethargically, you wash, take a shower, and dress. When you leave the safety and familiarity of your apartment, you take a shuddering breath and force yourself forward.

It takes you 30 minutes to get to Jujutsu Tech. The familiarity grounds you enough that you can keep to your thoughts as you make the journey up the mountain and up the stairs, through the torii gate, and onto the campus.

To get to Yaga's office, you cut through the courtyard of the school building straight towards the staircase to get to the third floor. When you reach his office, before you can knock, the door slides open, bringing you face first with a hard chest. You catch yourself at the same time an arm around your waist steadies you.

Just as you think to yourself that this can’t be happening again, you meet a dark green gaze.

“Ah!” A voice exclaims.

You blink as the man comes into focus. “Hideo-kun…”

“What a coincidence,” he grins. “To see you here of all places,” he glances down, at your conjoined positions. “Just like this!”

His enthusiastic attitude is infectious. The anxiety that has been weighing on you dissipates just a little. You manage a smile. “I’m not usually this clumsy,” you say apologetically.

“No worries!” He drops his arms, he cocks his head to the side in a question. “Are you looking for Masamichi-sensei?”

“I am.” You peer past him to find Yaga absent from his usual place behind the large, oak desk. “But it’s fine,” you raise the paperwork in your hand and give it a little wave. “I’ll just put this on his desk.”

“I thought I might be able to talk to him today, but I guess that’ll have to wait,” he muses. At your inquiring gaze, he says, “Just to finalize my transfer from Kyoto.”

“Is everything coming together well?”

“I'm moving into my apartment this weekend.” A laugh. “I still find myself getting lost on the subway though. I never thought a city could be so busy!”

“It takes time getting used to,” you sympathize. You’ve lived in Tokyo your whole life. You are intimately familiar with the streets and back alleys and crowds, but you can understand how someone who has lived his entire life in Kyoto could find Tokyo an urban jungle. Kyoto is quieter, stiller. More traditional. A mesh of old cobblestone streets lined with traditional and modern architecture. “But if you ever have free time on your hands…I’d love to help you get acquainted with the city.”

He beams. “Would you? I’ll take you up on that offer.”

You figure it’s the least you could do. Hideo had helped you as a child. If you could help him in some way now, you would be repaying him. Besides, after Satoru’s behavior last week…

You hesitate, drawing back his attention. It’s been weighing on your mind. You spent the better part of the week formulating an apology in case you ever saw Hideo again. “I’m sorry for Satoru’s behavior last week. He’s not usually so…”

Abrupt? Irritated? Mean? A bully?

You realize that Satoru is, indeed, all these things, and at times, worse. You try again. “He was in a bad mood.” He kissed you. You felt his tongue impatiently run along the seam of your lips like a warning. You felt him in your mouth, a force of nature all on its own and his body pinning you to the wall, his hands hiking up your dress, up your legs, your side, your face. His thigh slotted between your own, pressing into you—

Your smile feels off. There is a warmth in your face that is accompanied by a feeling of slow dread. “You caught him at a bad time.”

Hideo blinks in confusion, before his face breaks into something understanding. “Oh, that was nothing!” Hideo says agreeably, nonchalant. “Gojo-sama is usually much more intimidating!"

“Is that so…” It's odd to be faced with such a narrow view of Satoru. Satoru could be intimidating, but you know he’s so much more. It’s not the first word you’d use to describe him. Boredom comes to him easily, in the casual indifference in the set of his face, as does the distance in his eyes that have always held the clarity of the heavens.

But you’ve never doubted the intention of his gaze when he looks at you. He sees you. As reassuring and terrifying as it is. You think of his hand pressed against yours, the weight and the warmth. You think of him sad. His head tucked into the crook of your shoulder, the redness of his eyes afterward. Taken off guard, he can be quick to anger, but you’ve seen him compose himself in seconds. You’ve seen him silent, the anger brewing in the cloud of his face, the turbulent storm of his eyes, when it feels like even a wrong breath could set him alight.

Then you think of Satoru stubbing his toe on Suguru’s desk in your first year, and the way he curled up on the floor in the seconds after, pale faced. He pretended to walk with a limp for the next three days after Suguru had cast him out of the room for being an annoyance, and when Yaga had sent him to the training yard he had refused, citing grievous injury to his being.

You know him. You know Suguru too, all of the contradictions of his nature. His kindness and his occasional pettiness, the barbed sharpness of his words and how easily condescension comes to him, especially with Satoru urging him at his side. How hard he tries to be better, to wrangle the darkness that beckons him, that bone deep disdain for others that incites the worst in him.

It’s a comforting fact. They make each other better. And worse. Which makes you feel even more horrible for coming in between the two of them. There’s so much confusion. You don’t understand. It feels like you don’t know them anymore. Maybe you never even knew them in the first place. Maybe you shouldn’t have assumed it.

“I never thought he’d ever deign to talk to me though,” Hideo chuckles, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “It was my first time seeing him up so close. Personally, the thought of talking to him so casually makes me break out into a sweat!"

Casually...You suppose...you suppose you do talk to Satoru rather casually, don't you? You wonder if people notice when you call him Satoru. Your days of regarding him as Gojo-san are nothing more a distant memory. You like the shape of his name on your tongue, just as you like saying Suguru and Shoko. It's proof and permission. You wonder if you'll have to revert back to Gojo-san if Satoru decides he hates you. Suguru too.

The nerves underneath your skin buzzes. You hear it in your ears. The distant beating of your heart.

“The two of you went here together, didn’t you?” Hideo gestures to the school. “With Ieiri-san and Geto-sama too.”

“That’s right,” you reply absently, thinking about all the time you spent in these halls as a high schooler. Jujustu tech, your first home.

“I’m jealous. I went to the Kyoto branch, but if I had known you were here I would’ve transferred earlier!”

You would’ve liked that, you think. Though, you’re not sure how Hideo would’ve responded to your despondent high school self. You think he would’ve steered clear away from you. You still don’t know how you had miraculously managed Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. One day you had been alone, and then the next day, you weren’t. You’ll spend your life grateful they decided you worth it.

“I spoke to Ieiri-san earlier too.” Your attention returns to him at the mention of Shoko. “She speaks very highly of you.”

“Oh,” The buzzy feeling fades. You feel more tethered to your feet on the floor. To the ground. You feel warm all over. “Did she really?” You try not to look too happy, or eager. Hideo studies you with keen green eyes.

“You really love her, don’t you?”

Shoko, who had reached out to you for the first time by offering you a drink from the vending machine and a drag of her lit cigarette. You gently refused the cigarette but accepted the drink with shaking, nervous hands. It was the first time someone had offered you a drink.

“I do. She’s one of my closest friends…”

Hideo regards you softly. “That’s wonderful. I’m glad you weren’t alone.”

You raise your gaze and he smiles sheepishly, scratching his cheek. "When we were children, you always seemed...lonely." There's an awkward pause. "Well, I should leave you be!” He moves to turn down the hall, and stops. Looks at you and asks, “You wouldn’t happen to know where the cafeteria is?”

You direct him to the cafeteria. Before he leaves he asks for your phone and inputs his contact information inside. He gives you a small salute with two of his fingers.

Once he disappears down the hall, you enter Yaga office. You reach your teacher’s desk, but as you reach down to place your folder in the middle of his desk, you accidentally knock one of the three picture frames on his desk over. It hits the desk, face down. You pick it up to right it when you stop, and stare.

It’s you. Or more accurately, it’s an old picture of you from middle school in front of your school’s gates, staring grimly at the camera as if you’re seconds away from being put to death. It’s a severe expression you can’t quite place. Was there ever a time you looked like this? Clearly, there is, considering the picture in your hands. There’s a cast wrapped around your arm. Something nudges at your brain. A clean fracture. Blinding pain and then numbness. You passed out, slept through the worst, and when you woke up it hurt less. Your arm prickles at the memory.

It’s funny how memory works.

“Have you picked your bags?” Yaga sensibly says from the doorway. “If you leave in an hour, there won’t be as much traffic.”

Your hand lowers as you turn around to face him. “I left my bag with an auxiliary manager.”

You resume looking at the picture, trying to remember when the photo was taken. Yaga approaches you, and puts a hand on your shoulder. “It was a couple months before you graduated. I wanted a picture because I knew I wouldn’t make it to your graduation.”

You glance up at his face, framed by a pair of sunglasses, the familiar heavy set of his eyebrows, and the stern silhouette of his face that you had initially been wary at. He had been gentle with you, kind in a way you forgot adults could be when you needed it the most. You are endlessly grateful for him.

“I didn’t know you had a picture of me in your office.” Smiling comes easier to you now. Happiness too. You know what it means to be happy.

“I’ve watched over you since then,” he says gruffly, but you think his voice sounds thick with emotion. “You’ve grown.”

The words make your throat grow thick. You put the picture frame down on the desk to avoid squeezing it too tightly. “Sometimes,” you say truthfully. “I don’t feel like it.”

Sometimes, you still feel sad and small. You float through your duties of the day, seeking refuge in the comfort of your bed when night falls. Keeping your eyes open becomes a struggle, and the thought of living out the rest of your days until your inevitable death becomes unbearable. Sometimes, everything feels like a dream. A warm, happy dream bound to come to an end. It makes you remember Satoru kissing you in the garden, and the cold truth of reality. You messed it all up. Everything is coming to an end, and it’s your fault.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Yaga studies you, head tilted down. Then there's a hand on your shoulder. It's reassuring.

"It's hard for us jujutsu sorcerers to live a life without regrets," he starts. There's a pause. "But I don't want you to think it's wrong to try. Only you can decide how you want to live now." He pats you on the back. It's almost fatherly. It brings a sad smile to your lips.

You part from him after giving his hand a small squeeze.

You don’t know if you’ve lived a life without regrets, but you don’t regret the way you’ve lived. You’ve made it here, in one piece. It’s a comfortable existence. You are content. You are even given the privilege to be happier than you ever thought you’d be.

“I’ll be off now,” you say softly.

A nod. “Come back safely.”

Before you leave for the train station, you stop by the dorms, making a pit stop at your old room. You know the current students of jujustu tech, as few as they are, preferred the east wing of the dorm so it’s likely your room stayed vacant. You and Shoko’s rooms were in the west wing, a few halls from Suguru and Satoru’s room.

You open the door, taking in the surroundings of the room you had considered your first home.

It looks the same, barren from the lack of your belongings, but the same, as if you had touched it with your cursed technique the day you graduated. From the neatly arranged bed you had spent many nights and days in, to the desk in the corner Shoko had carved her name into. The empty bookshelf. You sweep your index finger over one of the shelves as dust gathers on your finger.

You sit on a bed that isn’t yours anymore and look around the room once more. Things were simpler in high school, you think. It was easy to get caught up in the small bubble of your environment. Your room. Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. Everyday, familiar and new.

A knock on the door draws your attention. When the door opens, your stomach flips, body locking into place as you stare.

“S…Suguru…”

He’s not wearing his uniform. Just a white button up and belted black pants. You wonder why he’s here. You didn’t know he was going to be on campus today. You are wholly unprepared to face him (or Satoru) right now. You thought…you thought you at least had a month at most before having to face the consequences of your actions.

You abruptly stand, forcing your hands to your side, feeling sicker with every passing second. Does he know? Did Satoru tell him? You wouldn’t put it past him. Satoru wouldn’t go to the lengths he did just to not tell him. To gloat. Satoru can be petty like that. You wonder if he hates you. You betrayed his trust. You wouldn’t be surprised if he told you he never wanted to see you again. You should leave now, excuse yourself, before he breaks your heart to the point where you don’t think you’d ever recover.

What would happen to the kids if Satoru and Suguru decided to separate? They’re so happy now, living together in a nice apartment that feels like a home. You’d be responsible for splitting them up—

Suguru waves your phone in his hand. “You left this in Yaga’s office. He asked me to hand it off to you before you left.” There’s a light smile on his face, and you wonder if it’s his way of being kind before he tells you he never wants to see you again. His smile grows wider with hidden meaning. “I’m glad I caught you.”

You don’t know what’s worse. Suguru knowing you kissed Satoru, or Suguru not knowing. Your head is spinning.

“Thank you,” you say breathlessly as Suguru closes the door, and strolls to you, moving to hand you your phone. You hadn’t even noticed your lack of a phone. Satoru is going to be mad if he finds out. If he still even cares. When Suguru’s fingers brush yours, you jerk back with a step.

Suguru watches you intently as you squeeze your phone tight, feeling dread pool in your stomach. You stare at the floor before your gaze flits back up to him. You manage a small smile. “Sorry,” you say, about to side step him, “I should really get—”

He says your name, murmurs it so softly that when it reaches your ear, you falter. He gently seats you on the bed. You have no choice but to wordlessly obey. He follows after by crouching down so you can easily meet his gaze. It’d be a comforting gesture if not for your heart jumping into your throat.

“Is everything okay?” Suguru’s usual easy smile seems gently probing. “Did something happen at the party? With your…friend?” There it is. That odd emphasis, a slight odd discordant note, reminiscent of that night of the wedding. Suguru’s just worried about you. But there’s nothing to worry about. It’s all your fault.

He covers your hands with his own.

Your mouth goes dry. He doesn’t know. Your stomach drops and you can’t swallow. You can’t leave him in the dark, you can’t…keep on betraying his trust like this.

“No, not Hideo-kun!” You rush to correct. It pains you to think Suguru might be judging Hideo’s good character. “Hideo-kun is…” He reminds you of the past. Every painful detail. But amidst the bad, you had also forgotten the good, as temporary as it was. “I want to introduce him to you and Satoru.”

You think this conversation somewhat sounds like you’re introducing a lover to your parents. Then you think that Suguru is probably not going to want to meet Hideo, not after this conversation. You take an unsteady breath.

“Suguru,” you say quietly, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. It’s the last time you may ever see him so close, and you find yourself tracing the slant of his kind eyes, the slope of his nose, and the set of his lips. You love him, you really do. You love him and Satoru and Shoko to the point of memorization. You won’t forget him. Your nails dig into the fat of your palm. The truth is heavy on your tongue. “I kissed Satoru.”

It makes you feel marginally better. The act of confession. The truth is out. All the days and long nights you’ve spent agonizing and turning in your bed and even hiding from Shoko, all exposed.

Suguru’s face is unreadable. “I see.”

He’ll tell you he doesn’t want to see you anymore. That you aren’t welcome in his presence anymore, and you’ll take it gracefully.

You’ve been learning to live without them, after all.

Then his lips twitch.

You watch with increasing confusion as Suguru doesn’t scorn you. He simply studies you softly. “How?”

You’re at a loss. You blink at him. “What?”

He looks greatly amused. “Never mind. Why don’t you demonstrate?”

He slides a hand on the bed, by your waist, and rises. He takes your lips with his own, lowering you onto the bed. Suguru is kissing you. He smells faintly of sandalwood, as he always does, but somehow the scent is stronger with him right in front of you. There’s a pressure on your waist. You realize it’s Suguru’s hand.

When you separate, the hand rejoins the other on either side of your face. Suguru is above you, dark eyes lidded in an expression you’ve never seen before. A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face. “Like that?”

You stare at him.

He doesn’t seem to mind your silence. He hums. “Or maybe.”

He captures your lips with an eagerness absent from the first kiss. It’s hungrier, more predatory. Wetter, when he opens your mouth to allow his tongue access. It’s a kiss that requires your active participation. Suguru’s teeth gently nip at your bottom lip, and you flicker to life underneath him, mouth widening as if falling open in shock, all as he gazes at you unfathomably.

Your eyes go wide, as Suguru brings a hand underneath your head to angle you closer to him. The warmth of him, the closeness. You never knew a kiss could feel so…good, and you are immediately conflicted. Whereas Satoru’s had been rougher, lips and tongue cowing you into submission, Suguru’s is slower. More thorough, with the same intense heat of Satoru’s.

Your face and thighs feel uncomfortably warm. Suguru’s knee is pressed right against your panties. Everything is too sensitive, and the heat in your stomach makes you want to squirm away.

Suguru’s lips release yours, allowing you to breathe. His lips hover close, the tip of your noses touching as you stare at him. Somewhere between the first kiss and the second, Suguru pulled down his hair, and now the dark strands curtain you into his gaze.

Your hands unclench from where they’ve been fisting his shirt, so tightly you popped a few buttons. You want to rebutton and straighten his shirt out, but your nerves are frayed raw, every one of your senses occupied by Suguru.

You don’t know what to say to him, and with him so close, you don’t even know where to start. Satoru kissed you. Then Suguru kissed you. You briefly wonder if you should be expecting a kiss from Shoko. You’d have to start preparing now. This could all just be some prank they decided to play on you. And a part of you hopes it to be true. It would make more sense than…whatever this is.

But it does. Suguru shares Satoru’s vindictive streak, after all.

His finger brushes your neck, pressing down on the bruise right above your collarbone. A shiver wracks your spine almost violently. You had almost forgotten about it. “This was from Satoru, wasn’t it?”

You struggle with the words. “Suguru this…isn’t the way…to resolve your issues with Satoru…”

He blinks, and up close, you can see the flutter of his dark eyelashes, the way the corner of his eyes soften when he smiles. There’s a laugh on the tip of his breath. “As uncomfortable as this is, this is exactly how to resolve things.”

Uncomfortable…? He must be referring to kissing you. It must not have been a pleasant experience.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, still breathless and flushed. “I’m not…” your face warms even more, self conscious, “good at it.”

“Good at it?” Suguru registers your meaning. His thumb strokes your bottom lip. “It was perfect,” he says decidedly, making you warmer. “Uncomfortable is…”

His gaze lowers. You follow his gaze. There’s an unmistakable tent in his pants.

Oh.

It’s a normal bodily response. It’s not as if it’s because of you.

You look away, as if to save him the embarrassment, but he laughs. Your heart races, feeling the fabric of your panties stick to the wetness between your thighs you’re sure Suguru can feel on his pants, through your skirt. You’re the only embarrassed one here. Suguru hasn’t made any move to rise up away from you, simply seeming content to look down on you, to watch you.

You’d do anything to move away from being the center of Suguru’s attention. To recollect yourself away from him. Every passing second in silence makes you want to curl up in your bed and die.

“Do you want me…to help?” Anything you could do to escape being underneath him. You aren't familiar with it, but it's nothing you can't figure out. You’d think of all the potential ramifications later, as soon as you aren't being pinned down to the bed by Suguru.

“Next time,” Suguru says like a promise, awfully casual, despite the way his thumb had paused on your face at the suggestion. “How about I help you?” He asks cheerfully.

You blink and Suguru is off of you and the bed. You’re relieved, until you feel your legs being spread. Suguru’s face reappears between your thighs, hiking your skirt up to your waist. Instead of your face, now Suguru’s gaze is directed to the wet spot on your panties. You want to die.

A shiver wracks your body, legs instinctively closing if not for Suguru’s grip keeping them open. “Suguru,” you say, voice reedy with panic, “You really don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he replies. There’s a glint in his eyes. “Being here, in your old room. It feels like we’re students again, doesn’t it? Like we’re fooling around.” A teasing smile pulls at his lips. “It really turns me on, you know.”

You’re unsure of what to do with this information. You’re sure he and Satoru fooled around plenty in high school. You once walked in on them in the common showers together when you accidentally walked into the mens shower. But this is—

Something else entirely.

“I’ll make you feel good,” he says softly, almost reassuring. “Nobody’s ever been here before, right?”

It’s less a question, more a confirmation. He’s looking at you to answer him. Your face burns. There’s no reason to answer. He knows. They know. You’ve never kissed a man before Satoru. Once, a man had grabbed your hand on the street, but Satoru’s glower chased him off. You’ve never done anything more.

You nod, a wordless answer because you don’t trust yourself to respond.

He trails a finger down your panties. You choke on a shudder, squeezing your eyes shut to afford yourself some peace of mind, but it doesn’t help. He deftly slides your panties down and off your legs, fully exposing you. You can feel him looking. You grow wetter.

“All this from some kisses,” he muses. “Did you like them that much? I’ll remember that.”

You are too pathetically mortified to respond. It wasn’t…

He leans in close, exposing your wet heat to his interest. His voice lowers. “Did you get this wet when Satoru kissed you?”

Your eyes fly open, wide, meeting his amused ones. It doesn’t sound like an accusation but it feels like one. It feels like a competition. Competitive, the way the two of them have always been. But you…don’t want to think about that. You don’t want to think about anything. You wish he’d just—

Suguru drags his tongue against your cunt, and you squeal, legs attempting to lock shut around his head, but the two hands on your thighs easily keeps you spread. He chuckles, and every vibration sends a fresh wave of heat to your wetness. Before you can catch your breath, he pulls you forward to his face.

You feel the heat of his tongue pressing into you, taking his time exploring your folds with steady, broad strokes. You whimper, feeling your stomach tighten, your hands gripping the fabric of your sweater as the sound of your heart floods your ears. You hear yourself saying his name, over and over and over, and you think he might even like it, because he responds enthusiastically, as if to reward you.

Suguru’s lips are bright with your slick. You can feel yourself dripping, your body eagerly responding for him, despite your own reservations. The rise of your hips against his mouth while his tongue works to elicit even more noises from you. And then Suguru’s hand is taking yours, leading it to his head, all without stopping. Your other hand follows suit, fingers curling into his hair as you attempt to drag him closer, caught up in the pressure building in your gut.

Suguru’s thumb catches on the intentionally neglected swollen bundle of nerves, and you blindly sob out, hips jerking upwards, white hot overstimulating pleasure shooting through your veins. The world slows to still. Suguru takes it without pause, tongue lazily circling your cunt through it all.

You can barely breathe, too sensitive, too sore. Suguru is gazing up at you, all ministrations mercifully stopped. Your chest rises and falls, attempting to get a grip on yourself. Your hands have dropped from Suguru’s hair to your side. You should apologize. It must have been uncomfortable. You hadn’t meant to grip him that hard. His hair…

But that’s the least of your worries.

You unsteadily rise, removing your legs from Suguru’s shoulders, so that they hang off the side of the bed instead. You shakily smooth out your skirt. Suguru easily takes over the duty, pulling the skirt back down to your ankles and straightening it. His hand rests on your thighs, the heat of him felt through the fabric of your skirt, as if in reminder of what he just did. You swallow.

“Suguru…”

“Mhm?” His hands move to your hair, smoothing and fixing and petting, and you can’t do anything but let him.

“I…um. I…” The words don’t form. Your brain is still hazy from the residuals of your orgasm. You didn't know orgasms could be so life shattering. In more ways than one. You’ll never be the same again. Things will never be the same again. The thought makes your chest sink. You feel like a child again, lost and alone.

You’re worn and spent and you still have to make your train to Nagoya. Your head begins to throb. Too many thoughts.

“Tell me about your friend,” Suguru urges gently. “What did the two of you do together?”

You figure Suguru isn’t too mad at you if he’s asking about Hideo. That brings you immense relief. Although it's overshadowed by every other conflicting feeling fighting to take reign inside of you, including more guilt. It’s odd. You thought he’d never want to see you again. Instead he chose to get back at Satoru.

You’re still relieved nonetheless, glad that he’s still talking to you, if anything. Such a small thing brings you happiness. You love talking to Suguru. You love his attentiveness, his patience, his (mostly solid) advice. It makes things feel right again, and you respond to the normalcy of it. The pieces fall back into place, anchoring you to the moment.

“We just talked.” You recall the night. “He was…we briefly knew each other as children. Back when I…” your hands curl shut. You shake your head. “We walked in the gardens afterwards. Then…” Then Satoru happened. “Um…Satoru was…rude to him the other day. And since he’s moving to Tokyo…it’d be nice if you could get along with him—”

“Get along, you say…”

You nod, lips curving despite everything. You think Suguru would like him, in fact. Satoru is usually too impatient for others nowadays, short tempered in a way that has people fleeing in the other direction, but you always thought Suguru appreciated straightforward qualities.

“Hideo-kun was it?” Suguru smiles pleasantly. “No, I don’t think I will.”

You stare at him. “...”

“...”

“Oh,” you echo. “That’s…okay.”

You feel deadly embarrassed, face burning. It isn't as if Suguru or even Satoru for that matter are under any obligation to meet the people in your life. They don't have to like them either. You shouldn't have mentioned it in the first place. You think you should excuse yourself now.

"H-how was Sasaki-san? Did the two of you have fun at the party?” You want to know if Satoru likes her too, but you hadn’t gotten a chance to ask at the party.

“It was just a party,” Suguru simply says, thumb rubbing circles into your ankle, almost absentmindedly. "It was boring, really."

You wonder if romance is a topic he doesn't want to discuss with you. Not anymore. Not after...

You’re unsure why you keep on talking. You want to talk to him. You want him to talk to you. You want to be comforted. “Shoko said the bride didn’t want to get married.”

A grimace flits across his features. “I suppose not.”

You straighten, paying attention to his expression. Interesting. “I didn’t realize you knew the bride personally…”

“I don’t,” The words leave his lips smoothly, convincingly. “Anyone could see she wasn’t happy.”

He’s lying to you. Others may not be able to tell, but you can. Suguru lies too well. It’s when his words come easiest, his facial expressions too sincere and free of all hesitation that you’ve caught him. If anything, he lies too well. You know him enough to know that even Suguru struggles with the words sometimes.

You don’t say anything. It’s not your place. There could be a lot of reasons he doesn’t want to tell you but you can’t help but think it’s because you’ve lost your place as his friend and a confidante. You wonder if he’ll ever confide in you again. You wonder if you’ll ever exchange books and trace over the print of his handwriting in the margins. It’s a horrible feeling. You might cry.

You don’t like who you are when you’re alone. The best parts of you have always belonged to others.

You force the panic into a tiny, tiny box inside of you. You smother it all down until you feel okay again. Everything subsides. A little empty, but functional. You’ve always been good at that, if nothing else. You have a mission in Nagoya, and a train to catch.

You stand on unsteady legs. It's suddenly a little harder to breathe. "I should get going," you say evenly. "I'd hate to keep the auxiliary manager waiting!"

You flee the room.

You take three steps out of jujutsu tech and realize you are missing two things. Your phone and your panties.

#geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #m.jjk #ddao

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