#'hang out without any tension'
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4ngelofmydreams · 2 years ago
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thinking abt how i had booked flights to see my ex and stay w them for 12 days and how the night before i left i met up w a friend i hadn't seen in a while and told her "i'm visiting my gf in [several countries over] tmrw but i have this feeling that they want to break up w me" and my friend was like "its gonna be fine bc there's NO way anyone would do that to themselves or u to have u visit for so long even tho they want to break up" and i was like yeah i'm sure ur right i shouldn't worry abt it *proceeded to go through the worst two weeks of her entire life*
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shewhowillrise · 1 year ago
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DC x DP Prompt
Corpse AU
Danny: don’t worry not the first body I buried
Dick who called him about the dead joker in his trunk: that’s so reassuring thank you
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rearranging-deck-chairs · 3 months ago
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bad wolf soda <3
#level of obsession reached where i zoom in on screenshots to see what shes reading#p sure that says kierkegaard in white but thats as far as im getting#'first existentialist philosopher'#okay i really gotta find out what the fuck existentialism really means now bc carmilla seems to like it#'related to the meaning purpose and value of human existence.#Common concepts in existentialist thought include existential crisis dread#and anxiety in the face of an absurd world and free will as well as authenticity courage and virtue.'#SCREAM OKAY I SEE I SEE#kierkegaard beauvoir sartre nietzsche camus yep p sure those all get mentioned#okay this is fun#kierkegaard was like an existentialist before the word and hes from the first half of the 19th century#dont know if you can call vampires contemporaries of people bc....immortal. but carmilla was a contemporary of him#technically#and then when existentialism gets named halfway the 20th century carmilla has just escaped her blood coffin punishment#and so shes alone for a little bit without direction. perhaps free or perhaps waiting for mother to show up again#it's fun that existentialism seems sort of to be abt there being a choice abt who you want to be#that youre not defined by an essence. that What You Are is not defined pre what you do#so you can shape yourself#it's interesting the tension between that belief and the position carmilla is in. no wonder theres self-loathing#but also! she starts resisting the What She Is that is imposed on her. after 1945. starts sabotaging plans#i gotta go download some books#'ive got a talk i wanna catch on goethe' hang on im googling#1749-1832 she lived through that too#oh right faust and young werther i know of those#'Goethe admitted that he 'shot his hero to save himself' a reference to Goethe's near-suicidal obsession for a young woman a passion he que#relatable#god theres so much to read in the world and i have not read any of it#carmillaposting#i wonder what she'd write her dissertation about
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hayatheauthor · 13 days ago
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20 Flirty Remarks to Build Romantic Tension Without Being Overbearing
Feeling stuck trying to give your characters a good flirty one-liner that doesn't sound cringe/overdone? Here are 20 ideas/dialogue prompts for you (that I may or may not have stolen from my own books): 
“I must warn you: you have a dangerous effect on my heart rate.” / "You have no idea what you're doing to my heart right now."
"If I said I wasn’t thinking about you, I’d be lying. And I’m a terrible liar."
"You know, I could get lost in those eyes, but I'd probably trip over my words trying to find my way back." (could also double as description/inner monologue).
“I can’t tell if you’re really charming or if I’m just easily charmed.”
“You have a knack for making me forget what I was going to say. It’s kind of impressive/infuriating.”
“I think you owe me a drink. When I saw you, I dropped mine.”
“I’ve been trying to find the perfect excuse to hang out, but I keep forgetting everything when I’m around you.”
“I bet you get away with a lot of trouble with that smile.”
“You must be a magician because every time you walk in, everyone else disappears.” (The right character could pull it off I swear)
"I’ve been trying to think of something clever to say, but all my brain can come up with is how much I want to (kiss) you."
"I saw that little glance—you’re not as sneaky as you think."
"How do you manage to make even the most mundane things sound exciting?"
"You do this cute thing with your hands when you’re nervous, you know?"
“One more word, and I might just have to kiss you.”
"Finally, there's that pretty smile of yours. I've been waiting for it all day."
"You keep staring—should I be flattered?" / "Keep looking at me like that and I might start thinking you have a crush on me."
"Do you have any idea how fun it is to watch you try to keep a straight face?"
"I’m pretty sure you could charm the socks off anyone, but I’d like to keep mine on for now."
"If laughter is the best medicine, then I’m pretty sure you’re my favorite doctor."
"Is it bad that I kind of like the way you’re trying to mess with me?"
Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 
Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors! Instagram Tiktok
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sttoru · 11 months ago
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your boyfriend sleeps on the couch after an argument you both had earlier that day. after calming your nerves and taking time for yourself, you realise that you might have been a bit too harsh on him.
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff / angst / hurt + comfort. age gap (reader early 20’s & satoru early 30’s). nicknames used; ‘(little) baby’. he’s honestly just the perfect combination of gentle and teasing. subtle mentions of size difference.
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satoru shifts on the couch whilst letting out an inaudible yawn. he was tired after an entire day at work and finally had the chance to settle down in the comfort of his apartment.
though, he couldn’t really relax just yet. the reason why being the undeniable tension hanging in the air. he was in fact home, but it didn’t feel like it. not when you were missing.
you had holed yourself up in the master bedroom after an earlier argument the two of you had. it wasn’t a big fight — just a little squabble between lovers. satoru didn’t rush after you when you had decided to walk away midst argument. you clearly weren’t in the right headspace to properly articulate nor communicate your feelings.
he figured that you just needed some time alone and thus decided to leave you be. he didn’t want to risk losing you by annoying you any further.
satoru scrolls on his phone out of boredom. the light radiating off the screen starts to bother his already sensitive eyes. with a sigh, he shuts off the device and puts it down on the coffee table.
it was dead silent in the apartment that was usually filled with your lively chatter. the sorcerer wants nothing more than to cuddle up with you under the covers and fall asleep. but, you needed space and he wasn’t going to disturb you.
he drapes an arm over his eyes and pulls the thin blanket over his chest. his breaths were steady and his thoughts were surprisingly calm. satoru almost drifts off to sleep, however his body lightly jolts awake once he hears the creaking of a door.
careful footsteps echo throughout the hallway and stop right at the doorstep of the living room.
satoru moves his arm to the side so his vision wouldn’t be obstructed. his eyes land on the figure standing at the doorframe — one he could recognise instantly.
it was you, standing there with your head held low and your fingers curled around the hem of your nightgown. you didn’t take another step forwards and just lingered in your spot for a few seconds without saying anything.
“hey, baby.” satoru breaks the silence. his voice was as soft as it could be, not an ounce of annoyance or frustration in it. even if he had all the reason to be upset according to you.
you remember just how childish you acted earlier; you had lost all rationality, shouted at your boyfriend out of frustration and ran off mid sentence instead of properly addressing the issue at hand. the way you handled that situation was wrong and immature.
in contrast to your immature behaviour, satoru had stayed calm and collected throughout the entirety of your argument. he hadn’t raised his voice at you even once nor did he blame you for anything. you felt bad for acting like a bratty kid who didn’t get her way.
you eventually move towards the couch, still not making eye contact with your boyfriend. he sits up and simply watches you with a raised eyebrow—curious as to what you were about to do.
you knew you had to apologise for your behaviour, but what you needed first was his validation. you wordlessly climb onto the couch and under the blanket satoru was using.
your arms wrap around his torso and you hug him tightly to your body, face buried in his shirt to cover your embarrassed and remorseful expression.
satoru’s eyes widen a bit at the sudden show of affection, though he wasn’t complaining. he reciprocates the gesture and nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head.
“my little baby.” he chuckles, hands rubbing your back in attempt to reassure you that everything was and will be fine, “i’m happy you decided to come back to me — thank you.”
again. that tender tone satoru uses only with you and for you. the guilt from earlier hits you like a truck and your eyes well up with tears before you could stop the process.
“sorry,” your voice cracks once you finally muster out an apology. the warmth engulfing your cold body was enough to make you sob in his comforting embrace. satoru sighs and closes his eyes. he rests his chin on top of your head whilst holding you like his life depended on it.
no words were exchanged between you two for a good minute. satoru silently encourages you to cry it out and so you do. after calming down, you sniffle and pull your head away from his chest. your eyes were watery and a bit red.
the pad of his thumb sweeps the stray tears away from your cheeks, his touch precise and careful. he smiles softly at the sight of his teary-eyed girlfriend. you were so adorable and precious to him. even when you looked like a mess — a pretty mess.
“i just..” you start off, small hiccups interrupting your sentence, “i wanted to apologise for acting so childish. i shouldn’t have said nor did any of those hurtful things. i apologise for that as well.”
your lover nods along to your words. he hums in delight and kisses your forehead, his lips lingering there for longer than intended, “don’t worry, baby. i understand. thank you for apologising, though.”
you mutter a small ‘of course’ in-between sniffles. that was all the reassurance you had needed to hear from your boyfriend. though, you still felt bad and the guilt of your immature actions seemed to linger in the back of your mind.
you lay your head back on satoru’s chest and listen to his heartbeat — hoping that the constant sound would drown out any other thoughts. your lover lays on his back and pulls you down on top of him. his hands rub your sides, slender fingers toying with the silky material of your nightgown.
“i’m sorry for being immature sometimes. i’m sure it must be troubling to deal with.” you whisper as you enjoy the feeling of being back in satoru’s arms.
he grins and shakes his head in response. he loves every side of yours — even your immature one. if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be here right now. he truly loves all of you.
the older man places another soft kiss on top of your head and closes his eyes afterwards, “heh, i’d be lying if i said that you trying to act all tough earlier wasn’t cute.”
satoru snickers at the memory. he remembers how you pointed that little finger of yours in front of his face and how you tried to subtly stand on the tips of your toes so you could look him in the eyes properly. your attempts at looking intimidating were quite endearing.
it’s not like he was invalidating your feelings with that comment — he was genuinely trying to lighten your mood. and it wasn’t like it didn’t work.
“whatever.” you huff, playfully swatting his biceps and gaining an over exaggerated ‘ow!’ in response. you’re glad that things have gone back to normal between you two. if the situation had continued for any longer, you’d have lost your mind.
you aren’t the only one who is extremely relieved. satoru is beaming with joy because he gets to hold and talk to you again. that small period of silence between the both of you felt like an eternity to him.
no matter how many times you have those little arguments, satoru will still love you all the same.
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rafecameronssl4t · 2 months ago
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My say || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: an argument between reader and rafe about having a nanny for your son.
Warnings: heavy angst!!! Mentions of breastfeeding
Word count: 1,283
A/n: I hope this kinda gvives you a better insight of what reader x rafe's relationship is like!! I AM SO EXCITED TO CONTINUE WRITING FOR THIS AU!!! send thru any requests you might have :)
MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)
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divider by @h-aewo
“Y/n, you can’t be serious,” Rafe says, his voice laced with disbelief as he stares at you, searching your face for any sign that you might be joking. But your expression remains unyielding, eyes steady as you readjust Leo in your arms, his small hands clutching at you as he feeds. “I’m serious,” you say, your tone casual as you shrug, though the gravity of your words lingers heavily between you.
The tension in the room is palpable. Rafe scoffs, a bitter sound escaping his lips as he shakes his head in disbelief. Without another word, he pushes himself up from the couch, his movements stiff with frustration. He crosses the room with purposeful strides, heading straight for the bar cart. The clink of the whisky bottle against the glass is sharp in the silence, followed by the harsh slam of the glass hitting the cart, the sound echoing through the stillness of the room.
“He hasn’t even turned one yet, and you’re already considering leaving him in the care of someone we don’t even know?” Rafe’s voice is strained with disbelief, his eyes narrowing as he struggles to grasp your logic. . “What is this really about? You want more time for yourself? To get your hair and nails done, meet up with your friends, take boat rides?” His voice is laced with incredulity, each word carrying a mix of accusation and frustration as if he can’t believe you would even consider such a thing.
“You want to hand him over to a stranger—someone who doesn’t know his little habits, his cries, the way he needs to be held to fall asleep?” Rafe’s words tumble out in a rush, his voice thick with a blend of incredulity and concern. It’s as if he can’t even comprehend how you could entertain the idea, the very thought seeming impossible to him.
You let out a soft, disbelieving snort, shaking your head. “And you do, Rafe? You think you know him better than anyone else?” Your voice drips with sarcasm as you meet his gaze, your eyes daring him to challenge you. “When was the last time you were the one pacing the floor at 3 in the morning, trying to calm him down? When have you spent hours figuring out his cries, trying to understand what he needs?”
Rafe stares at you, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. “You’re his mother—” But before he can finish, you cut him off, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. “And I’m trying, Rafe! I’m trying so hard, but it never feels like enough. I can’t seem to get it right, no matter what I do.” Your voice cracks as the weight of your words hangs between you, the raw vulnerability in your tone cutting through the tension like a knife.
“I’m 21, for heaven’s sake!” you exclaim, your frustration boiling over. “I’m still figuring this out, and every day feels like a battle. I’m doing my best, but it’s like I’m constantly failing.” The words spill out in a rush, your voice wavering with the pressure of trying to live up to expectations that feel impossible to meet.
Rafe’s eyes narrow as he leans forward, his voice biting, “Don’t sit there and pretend you weren’t raised for this,” Rafe says, his voice cold and cutting. “You knew from the moment your parents arranged this marriage that your role was to be a mother. They didn’t raise you to chase dreams or find yourself—they raised you to bear children, to fulfill your duty as a wife. So don’t act like this is some surprise or burden you weren’t prepared for.”
You feel a sharp pang in your chest as Rafe’s harsh words sink in, his coldness taking you by surprise. For a moment, you’re too stunned to respond, the sting of his accusation cutting deeper than you expected. You roll your eyes, more out of defense than annoyance, trying to push the hurt aside. Exhaling slowly, you steady yourself, refusing to let him see how much his words have affected you.
“Leo will have a nanny,” you say, your voice firmer than you feel. “This isn’t up for debate.” The words come out with a finality that leaves no room for argument, though the hurt lingers beneath your resolve. “End of conversation.” Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose, his frustration boiling over into raw anger.
“No, he will not!” he snaps, his voice sharp and intense. “I won’t have a stranger looking after our son—my son!” His words are a burst of anger, his eyes blazing as he struggles to contain the fury coursing through him. You roll your eyes again, your patience wearing thin as Rafe's anger fuels your own frustration.
“You’re being dramatic, Rafe,” you retort, trying to keep your tone steady despite your mounting irritation. “In my family, we all had nannies before we were even four months old—” But before you can finish, Rafe’s voice rises in a harsh yell that slices through your words. “This is our family, Y/N!” he shouts, his frustration exploding into full-blown anger.
“Our family! Not just yours. We don’t have to raise our children the way your parents did!” His voice echoes with the force of his rage, the intensity of his glare adding to the weight of his outburst. His voice reverberates off the walls, filling the room with a palpable tension as Leo starts to fuss.
His soft whimpers quickly escalate into full-blown cries, the sound piercing through the charged atmosphere. You flinch at the noise, your heart tightening with a mix of anger and frustration. “Will you lower your voice?” you snap, your own frustration surfacing as you hastily adjust your top, trying to soothe Leo by bouncing him gently in your arms.
Rafe runs a hand through his buzz cut, letting out a loud, exasperated sigh. His shoulders are tense as he plants his hands on his hips, watching you with a mixture of frustration and disbelief while you struggle to soothe Leo. “Look what you’ve done,” you say sharply, your voice cracking with frustration as you glare at him. “He was perfectly calm before you started yelling.”
Rafe’s eyes flash with irritation as he retorts, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, blame it all on me,” he snaps, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He turns and heads towards the door, clearly ready to escape the charged atmosphere. As he walks past you, you reach out and grip his arm, the strength in your hold betraying your desperation.
He stops and looks down at you, his expression softening slightly as he registers the plea in your eyes. “Please, just don’t argue with me right now,” you say, your voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. “Leo will be better off with someone who knows what they’re doing.” The earnestness in your plea hangs heavy in the air, cutting through the tension.
Rafe takes a deep breath, the anger in his eyes giving way to a more contemplative look. “I get to choose who the nanny is,” he says, his voice still firm but less harsh. You nod slowly, a quiet resignation in your expression as you release his arm, allowing him to leave.
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amiableness · 23 days ago
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Kiss and Makeup Up
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Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader
Summary: James ruins reader’s date and attempts to make it better.
Word Count: 2829
Warnings: Jealous!James; kissing; and reader wearing heels, jewelry and makeup.
A/N 💌: A quick James oneshot that’s been on my mind, but I’m heavily consider making a second part to this.
As usual, thank you to @moonpascal for reading!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Go on, kiss and make up!” Sirius' voice trails after you as you hurry down the corridor, James close on your heels. On any other day, you might have tossed a playful jab back at Sirius, well-accustomed to his relentless teasing about you and James. But today, the weight of everything made your throat tighten, leaving you silent, your focus fixed on reaching the safety of your dorm.
The sharp click of your heels echoed off the stone walls, and James' muttering about your surprising speed in heels barely registers. Your anger simmers, blocking out his words as you storm ahead and shove the door open. James is right behind you, catching it just before it could slam shut in his face, determined not to let you shut him out.
“Get out, Jamie.” Though your voice was laced with anger, the way you used his nickname gave him a glimmer of hope. It wasn’t hopeless—there was still a chance to make everything better.
“I’m not leaving until we figure this out.” James says, stepping forward and leaning against the post of Lily's bed as he watches you roll your eyes and turn into the room. He doesn’t say anything as you begin furiously grabbing clothes and scattered heels off the floor—remnants of you getting ready for a date, now tainted by the tension hanging between you two.
“There’s nothing to figure out! You ruined my date, plain and simple.” You spin around, clutching a black heel in your hand, and for a fleeting moment, James braces himself, half-expecting you to launch it at him in a fit of frustration. But it’s you, his sweet best friend—the one who cares so deeply for others that you always put them before yourself. It’s a trait that drives James a little crazy sometimes, knowing you’d sacrifice your own happiness without a second thought.
The realization only sharpens the sting of your anger, an unfamiliar weight he’s not used to carrying. He can recall times you’ve been disappointed—maybe after one of his careless pranks or his thoughtless disregard for someone’s feelings—but never this. Never this level of anger.
“I said I was sorry.” He tries, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you scoff and turn away, angrily kicking off your heels. You bend down to pick them up, and despite himself, his eyes drift to the curve of your body. He knows he shouldn’t be looking, but he can’t help it—he’s never been able to take his eyes off you. And now, a bitter feeling twists in his gut, knowing you're dressed all pretty for someone else.
“You're not, though. Why the fuck did you feel the need to scare him off?” You toss the heels into your trunk and turn to face him, arms crossed. He opens his mouth to respond, but the words die before they form—because he doesn’t know how to tell you the truth. He knows exactly why, but admitting it out loud would change everything between you. And he’s not sure he’s ready for that.
The silence between you stretches, heavy and unspoken, as you wait for an answer he isn’t ready to give. You both know exactly what you're waiting for—a proper explanation.
One you’ve been holding out hope for, quietly, for years.
“It's not fair, you know.” You let out a deep sigh, turning to face your desk, your gaze falling on the mirror. James watches as you begin to remove your jewelry, your back turned to him, but his reflection still catches glimpses of you. The anger in your voice has softened, but he knows that if he says the wrong thing, it could all flare up again, as sharp and sudden as before.
“What isn't?” He hesitates, watching you carefully as he takes a cautious step forward. His eyes follow the way your lips part in the mirror, the soft exhale of frustration escaping you as you fumble with your necklace.
He wants to step forward, to gently brush your hair aside and unfasten the clasp, to press a soft kiss against the back of your neck once the necklace slips away. But he can’t—so he remains still, trapped in silence, as he watches you instead.
“Why is it that you go out with girl after girl, but when I show interest in a guy, you scare him off?” You already knew the answer—weren’t blind to it. It had been clear to everyone that you and James had been circling each other for years, dancing around unspoken words.
But he refused to admit that he cared for you as more than friends. It felt pointless to tell him how you felt when it was clear James was intent on keeping you in the friend zone.
From the moment crushes became a part of your life, James had been yours. But you were never certain about his feelings—until that one night when he got blackout drunk and confessed he was in love with you. He has no memory of that drunken night, but you overheard him later, telling the boys he’d never drink that much again because he wanted to actually remember the parties he went to. You’d felt a pang of disappointment, but you were gathering the courage to confront him about it. Then, the next day, he hooked up with a girl from Ravenclaw, and just like that, all your resolve crumbled, leaving you feeling more invisible than ever.
He didn’t remember what he’d said, and if he was out with other girls, it was clear he didn’t care enough to mention it while sober.
That was a year ago, and you still hadn’t brought it up. 
So, to cope with the mess of it all, you went on a date—a rare one, the first in nearly a year. And now, here was James, wrecking it all over again.
“I—” He stops himself, clearing his throat, the tension in his voice betraying the lie before he even finishes. “I don’t think that’s true. You go out on dates.”
He knew he spent a lot of time flirting with girls—whether it was during class, when he should have been paying attention, or at parties where conversation flowed too easily. But when someone showed interest in you? That was a different story altogether. He’d like to blame it on the fact that you were his best friend, but deep down, he knew better. He was protective of you because he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone looking at you the way he did. Was it selfish? Definitely. But the thought of losing you terrified him more than anything.
“You know that’s a lie. You saw how excited I was! Why did you take that from me?” You were fully aware of how weak and accusatory your voice sounded, but you didn’t care. You were hurt, and it was clear in the way you shook your head, disappointment heavy in every movement. James watched your reflection, noticing the way you swallowed hard as if trying to shove down the swell of emotions threatening to break free. And with that, a wave of guilt slammed into his stomach, settling there like a stone.
“I just didn't want him to hurt you!” 
"So you decided to take that off his hands and hurt me instead?" You scoffed, making James flinched as if you had slapped him. It probably would have hurt less if you had.
“Merlin, no! Sweetheart, that wasn't what I was trying to do—”
“Then what were you trying to do, James? Because I'm getting tired of this little game, we have going on.” 
He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes following your hand as you gently remove one of your earrings. For a moment, your gazes meet through the mirror, and the weight of it all presses down on him. He wishes, desperately, that you would just turn around and face him.
He was racking his brain, searching for the right words, trying to find a way to fix this. He considered stepping back, giving you space like he did when you got agitated with him. But this felt different. It wasn’t just about a moment of frustration—it was something deeper, something that could damage your friendship permanently if he didn’t speak up. He knew he had to fix this.
“You guys make up yet?” Sirius hollered, and James could practically picture him standing at the  bottom of the stairs with his hands cupped around his mouth as he shouted at the both of you.
Sirius' words from earlier echoed in his head as if they were taunting him, swirling around like a cruel mantra. 
Go on, kiss and make up.
It felt like an accusation, a reminder of how much he’d messed up. He could feel the weight of it pressing down on him, twisting in his gut. Every nerve in his body screamed that his next move would either make everything worse—digging the hole even deeper—or finally give him a chance to tell you why he’d ruined your date. But the fear of losing you pushed him forward.
“Tell me to stop, sweetheart.”
“Stop what—?” You ask, tossing your last piece of jewelry into the ceramic dish with a sharp clang before turning to face James. Your breath catching in your throat as he moves closer, and without thinking, you instinctively take a step back, bumping into your desk. The sudden movement rattles the items on top, sending a soft, anxious clatter through the room.
A sharp gasp escapes your lips as James reaches out, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb grazing the edge of your jaw. You stare up at him, wide-eyed, and James can’t help but think how pretty you look—more than he’s ever allowed himself to admit. 
He’s never been able to admire you like this before, not without the constant fear of you catching him.
His hands are shaky, and his proximity to you is making him nervous in a way that he couldn’t quite shake. But he didn’t know how else to explain himself. So, tentatively, he let his fingers graze your skin, admiring how you melted into him. He watches, heart pounding, as your lashes flutter and your lips part in surprise at the softness of his touch. The anger in your eyes had faded, leaving behind disbelief and something that looked dangerously close to hope.
He startles both himself and you when the words slip out, low and raw: “You make me so fucking nervous.” You blink up at him, silent, processing the confession. His gaze drifts over the mascara you’d carefully applied, the gloss glistening on your lips—details he hadn’t noticed before, but now felt like a punch to his gut. The jealousy flares, burning hot and fast in the pit of his stomach. It was devastating to realize you were all dressed up, and it wasn’t for him. Those heels, those glossed lips—they were for a guy who hardly knew you. 
Not like James knew you.
You part your lips, and James unknowingly silences you with a gentle brush of his thumb just beneath your lower lip. A soft, satisfied smile tugs at his mouth as he hears the gasp escape you. His hand rests on your left hip, pulling you closer, grounding you against him. The tension in the room thickens, and just like that, your anger has melted.
“If you want me to stop, just say the word, sweetheart.” He murmurs, his voice low and thick with intention as he edged closer. His fingers caressing your jaw, tilting your face upwards, bringing you within a breath of him. The air between you crackles, heavy and charged, and you feel the pull—the tempting, intoxicating proximity. He was so close now, you could feel the warmth of his breath, and all it would take was the slightest movement for his lips to claim yours.
You thought about saying it—the words were right there, just on the tip of your tongue. But then his lips brushed against yours just barely, and everything else faded away. You couldn’t bring yourself to say no—not when this was something you’d wanted for years. Even with the anger simmering inside you, the frustration over James ruining your date, you couldn’t pull away.
Not now. Not when he was so close.
If anything, a strange sense of relief was starting to wash over you—relief that he had ruined it. Because if he hadn’t, it might have been another guy standing where he was now, and the thought of that made something tighten painfully in your chest.
“Last chance.” He mumbled, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, searching for any sign that you might stop him. The only sound between you was the uneven rhythm of your breaths, erratic and heavy, pulsing with the desire that surged between you both. When you didn’t say a thing, no rejection, no hesitation—only the warmth of your breath mingling with his—he offered a barely-there smile before leaning in, his lips finally capturing yours with a slow, gentle kiss.
He started slow, cautious, as if afraid he might push you away. But the wrecked hum that escaped your throat—the sound of pure desire—told him everything he needed to know. You wanted this as much as he did.
It was overwhelming how quickly the kiss shifted—what started as sweet and searching, quickly turned frantic and hungry. The slow, deliberate pace gave way to a fiery urgency. The gentle brush of lips became a desperate meeting of mouths as the two of you gave into years of pining.
Your hands, which had been gripping the edge of the desk hard, moved slowly toward him. You let your fingers trail up his stomach, feeling the dips and ridges before reaching his chest. Your other hand found its way into his curls, you tugged softly, the motion pulling a low, pleasure-filled groan from deep within him. That sound, the sound of him unraveling, seemed to shatter something inside James. In an instant, he stepped closer—if that was even possible—until your bodies were pressed together, the heat between you two undeniable, consuming.
He pulled away just an inch, and the desperate whine that escaped your lips was enough to pull him back in, his arms circling your waist before effortlessly lifting you onto the desk. You gasped his name, the sound caught in your throat, as his lips claimed yours again, urgent and hungry. One hand slid around your thigh, pulling you closer, the heat of his body pressing against yours as he stood between your parted legs. His grip on your hip was firm, grounding, while his other hand found its place at the side of your throat, fingers warm and possessive.
You had never been kissed like this before. It was overwhelming—an all-consuming heat that ignited deep in your belly as James kissed you with a hunger, as if he'd been waiting for this moment his entire life.
And it was ruining you, because if this was how it felt to kiss James Potter, you never wanted to be kissed by anyone else ever again.
He rocked his hips against yours, the pressure making you gasp, and that breathless sound was all he needed. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, tasting you as if he couldn’t get enough. You were so completely immersed in him—the feel of his lips, the taste of him—that the low, teasing whistle from your doorway barely registered in your mind.
“Bloody hell, I didn’t expect you to actually go and kiss her.” Sirius’ voice rang out, loud and unfiltered. The words struck a panic through you, your body warming with embarrassment as you instinctively tucked your head into James’ chest, hoping to hide from the intrusion. You would recognize Sirius’ voice anywhere, and you knew you would be teased about this for ages.
James, with you still propped on the desk, remained a shield, his body pressed protectively against yours. He glanced over at Sirius and Remus, who stood by the doorway. Sirius, leaning against the doorframe, raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, while Remus stood next to him, his usually calm demeanor showing signs of awkwardness.
“Fuck off and shut the door, mate.” James groans, his arms pulling you tighter as he fights the urge to hurl a book at Sirius and Remus. Instead, he sends them a warning glare and brings a hand up to the back of your head, the heat of the moment still burning between you, and silently dares them to say anything more.
The boys hesitate, but not before Sirius calls out with a teasing smirk, “Didn’t know you had it in you, Potter. You finally got your girl.” And just like that, the door slams shut, leaving the air thick with tension and you cringing in embarrassment.
Maybe telling him you loved him wasn’t that pointless after all.
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butterfliesandwendigos · 21 days ago
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𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪. BEFORE — Josh Washington
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SUMMARY — a rekindled romance with Josh Washington leads to a night of pleasure and requited feelings for one another.
W/C — 6k.
NOTES — written in 2nd person POV, includes smut, smut, SMUT, lowkey a bit of fluff, considering writing a part two involving josh’s psycho prank reveal.
PART ONE | PART TWO
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The tension in the room escalates as a heavy silence settles over the group, and the cold air reflects the unease on everyone’s faces. The atmosphere grows thick with unspoken words, and the other friends exchange worried glances, unsure how to intervene in Emily and Jessica’s argument.
Standing in the centre of the room, Josh senses the confrontation spiralling out of control. He takes a deep breath, determination flickering in his eyes as he steps forward, his voice attempting to cut through the mounting anxiety.
“Mike, why don’t you check out the guest cabin? The one I told you about,” he suggests, trying to redirect the group’s attention away from the simmering conflict.
Looking at Jess with an eagerness that masks his concern, Mike jumps at the chance to shift gears. “Yeah, alright. Want to go do that?” he asks Jess, his tone light but tinged with hope.
Still bitter and glaring daggers at Emily, Jess responds with a sharp edge. “Any place without that whore,” she retorts, her voice dripping with disdain. Her eyes flicker to Emily, who stands rigid, hurt and anger swirling in her gaze.
Emily’s fists clench at her sides as she takes in Jess's words. “Wow, Jess. Classy,” she fires back, her voice strained as she struggles to maintain her composure.
Caught between the two, Josh tries to keep the mood light, though disappointment hangs heavy in his heart. “It’s right up the trail,” he chimes in, glancing nervously between them, desperate to diffuse the situation.
Mike, feeling the weight of Jess’s glare, takes her hand and pulls her gently away from the tension. “Let’s go,” he says, leading her toward the door, eager to escape the simmering conflict behind them.
As Jess and Mike step outside, the door clicks shut, leaving a heavy silence in the lodge. The warmth from the fireplace feels suddenly distant, and the atmosphere is charged with unresolved tension. Emily stands frozen for a moment, her heart racing with betrayal and anger, her body trembling as she processes the sting of jealousy.
Josh shakes his head slowly, disappointment etched as he watches Mike and Jess walk away. His eyes linger on Emily, concern flaring up as he witnesses the distress radiating from her. The remaining friends exchange uneasy looks, each uncertain how to navigate the sudden rift that has opened.
Matt, Emily’s boyfriend, stares at her with concern and confusion. He’s distressed by her jealousy, feeling her emotions pressing down on him. “Em, are you okay?” he finally asks, his voice hesitant, trying to bridge the gap between them.
Emily's expression hardens, turns on Matt, frustration spilling out in a flood. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you’ll let her treat me like that! And do you know where my pink bag from the rodeo is?” she demands, her voice rising with agitation.
Matt is caught off guard and hesitates before responding. “Uh, I don’t know… I thought you had it with you,” he replies, unsure how to react to her outburst.
Emily’s eyes flash with anger. “Well, I don’t! So we need to find it. Now!” she insists, her tone leaving little room for argument.
With a heavy sigh, Matt nods, resigned to her request. “Okay, let’s look for it,” he replies, attempting to keep his voice steady, even as uncertainty lingers in his gaze.
Across the room, Sam, sensing the tension, tries to control her situation. “I’m going to have a nice, warm bath,” she announces, her voice breaking through the thick silence. “Maybe some relaxation will help.” She gives the group a small smile but does little to ease the tension.
As the air in the lodge remains heavy with tension, Josh takes it upon himself to bring some warmth back into the space. He moves toward the fireplace, fumbling with kindling and logs, determined to ignite a fire that can literally and metaphorically chase away the chill. He strikes a match, watching it flicker momentarily before it catches, the flame dancing to life.
His eyes search yours, filled with a mix of hope and vulnerability. At that moment, the noise of the lodge fades into the background, and it feels like the two of you are the only ones left in the room, standing on the precipice of a more profound connection amidst the chaos of friendship and rivalry.
Meanwhile, Ashley and Chris sit together in the corner of the room, their eyes darting nervously around the space. The silence between them stretches, filled only by the crackling of the match against the wood.
Ashley fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater, her cheeks flushed slightly. “It’s pretty intense, right?” she replies, trying to keep her tone light despite the seriousness of the situation. “I never thought it would get that heated. We’re supposed to be here to have fun, not fight.”
“Yeah,” Chris agrees, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s like, one minute we’re all friends, and the next… everyone’s at each other’s throats.” He glances over at Josh, who is still wrestling with the logs in the fireplace, trying to coax a flame to grow. “You think he’s going to be okay? I mean, he’s trying so hard to keep things together.”
Ashley nods, her eyes following Josh’s movements. “I hope so. He’s a good guy, you know? He wants everyone to have a good time. It’s just… hard to watch everyone fight like this.”
Chris, sensing a moment of connection, leans in a little closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I appreciate how you always try to keep things positive. I wish I could be more like that sometimes.”
Ashley looks at him, her heart fluttering a little at the compliment. “Thanks, Chris. That means a lot,” she replies softly, a shy smile creeping onto her face.
Before they can delve deeper into their conversation, Sam returns down the stairs, a towel draped over her shoulder. She looks a bit flustered, running a hand through her damp hair. “Hey, guys,” she calls out, her voice bright but tinged with frustration. “I just checked the bath, and the gas is off, so the water’s cold. Great, right?”
Josh is still focused on getting the fire to catch and grimaces. “Seriously? That’s not what I needed to hear right now,” he mutters, finally coaxing a small flame into existence.
Sam rolls her eyes playfully, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah, let’s just add it to the list of things going wrong tonight.”
Josh, however, takes the news in stride and turns toward you with a spark of determination in his eyes. “Y/N, how about we go to the basement and check the gas? It shouldn’t be too complicated, and I could use the extra hands.”
Ashley and Chris exchange glances, their conversation momentarily forgotten. “Do you think you can fix it?” Chris asks, his brow furrowed in concern.
Josh nods confidently, but there’s a hint of uncertainty beneath the bravado. “Yeah, it’s probably just a quick adjustment.”
Sam shrugs, a smile returning to her face. “I’ll keep an eye on the fire for you guys. Just don’t blow anything up, okay?”
“Promise,” Josh replies, flashing a grin as he heads toward the basement door, glancing back at you. “You coming, Y/N?”
Josh’s hopeful gaze offers a chance for distraction, perhaps even a moment to connect without the chaos of the others hanging overhead.
“Yeah, I’m in,” you respond, pushing off from your seat. You can’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline at the idea of stepping away from the drama and into the unknown of the basement with Josh.
He smiles, a mixture of relief and excitement crossing his features. “Awesome. Let’s go.”
Together, you head toward the basement door, the creaky wood floorboards echoing softly behind you. As Josh opens the door, a rush of cool air greets you, starkly contrasting the lodge's warmth. The darkness beyond is thick, with only a few dim lights flickering in the distance.
“Do you have a flashlight?” you ask, glancing back at him.
“Yeah, I got one,” he replies, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, rugged flashlight. He flicks it on, illuminating a narrow staircase that leads down into the gloom.
You descend the stairs together, the light casting long shadows against the stone walls. The air grows more relaxed, a bit musty, filled with the scent of old wood and dust. As you reach the bottom, the beam reveals an assortment of old furniture covered in sheets, boxes piled high, and the occasional rustle of a rat scurrying away.
“Welcome to the dungeon,” Josh jokes, trying to keep the atmosphere light as he sweeps the flashlight across the room. “Quite the sight, huh?”
You chuckle, appreciating his attempt at humour. “At least it’s not filled with creepy dolls or something.”
Josh nods, stepping further inside. “Let’s see if we can figure out what’s going on with the gas.” He moves to a panel on the wall, inspecting it closely. “It shouldn’t be too complicated. Just a valve adjustment, I think.”
You step closer, watching him with a mix of admiration and concern. He looks determined, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration as he kneels to get a better look at the mechanism. The moment feels profound and fragile as you and Josh exchange lingering glances. But the sudden crash from the living room jolts you back into the present. You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts and take a deep breath.
“I think it came from upstairs,” you reply, your pulse quickening as your heart races. “Should we check it out?”
Josh hesitates, glancing toward the stairs. “Maybe we should finish with the gas first? If it’s nothing, we don’t want to leave it unattended.”
You nod, trying to push aside the unease creeping into your thoughts. “Right, let’s focus on this first.”
With renewed determination, you both turn your attention back to the valve. After a few moments of adjustments and checking gauges, Josh finally gives a satisfied nod. “I think that should do it. Let’s head back upstairs and let them know.”
As you return to the stairs, the unsettling feeling in your gut lingers, amplifying the sense that something isn’t right. The sounds of the lodge—laughter, tension, muffled voices—float down to you, becoming a mix of reassurance and dread.
Just as you reach the top of the stairs, another loud noise reverberates through the lodge, a sharp sound like something heavy being knocked over. You exchange worried glances with Josh, both of you feeling the shift in the atmosphere.
“What was that?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know,” Josh replies, his tone serious as he tightens his grip on the flashlight. “But we need to find out.”
With that, you both step back into the main room, the previous tensions overshadowed by an unfamiliar fear. The crackling of the fire is drowned out by hurried footsteps and raised voices, the friends agitated by whatever’s happening.
“Did you hear that?” Josh asks, his eyes darting around the room.
You nod, feeling the weight of the unknown pressing down on you. “We need to stick together,” you suggest a quiet resolve forming between you.
“Stay behind me,” he replies, stepping closer as you prepare to confront whatever lurks in the shadows. The night is far from over, and the real challenge has only begun.
Just as you reach the bottom of the stairs, a sudden flash of colour catches your eye. Before you can react, Chris bursts into the hallway, wearing a ridiculous, oversized bathrobe with a floppy hat and fuzzy slippers. He strikes a dramatic pose, grinning widely.
“Behold! The Phantom of the Lodge!” he exclaims, his voice booming as he swings his arms for effect.
You jump back, letting out a surprised yelp. Instinctively, you grab Josh’s arm, clinging to him tightly as your heart races. “Oh my God, Chris! You scared me!”
Josh chuckles, his initial shock melting into laughter as he steadies you. “Seriously, man? This is the best you could come up with?”
Chris leans into his performance, spinning around in the robe and throwing his hands up. “What? You don’t like my haunting style? I thought I’d bring some fun to this dreary evening!”
You can’t help but laugh, the night's tension momentarily dissipating as you release Josh’s arm, albeit reluctantly. “I mean, if the ghost you’re trying to scare is one of my nightmares, then sure, it’s working!”
Josh shakes his head, still smiling. “You need to get better at hiding, Chris. That was way too easy.”
Chris pretends to be offended, placing a hand over his heart. “Easy? I’m a master of scare tactics! Just look at my costume!” He twirls again, the robe billowing dramatically around him. “If I were a real ghost, I’d have you all quaking in your boots!”
Josh rolls his eyes but can’t help but smile at Chris’s antics. “You might want to reconsider your career choices, buddy. You’re more likely to make us laugh than scream.”
The lighthearted banter creates a much-needed distraction, and the tension from earlier seems to fade a bit. You take a deep breath, feeling more at ease, though you still chuckle as Chris prays around in his ridiculous outfit.
“Okay, okay, you’ve had your fun,” you say, finally regaining your composure. “But seriously, let’s focus. We must check on the others and see what’s happening.”
Chris drops the act, his playful demeanour shifting to concern. “Right, right. I just thought a little laughter would lighten the mood. Things have been pretty intense tonight.”
“Yeah, they have,” Josh agrees, his expression turning serious again. “But let’s get back out there and have some fun.”
As you enter the main room, the lingering echoes of laughter from Chris’s antics fade into the background, replaced by the familiar tension that still lingers among the group. You glance at Josh, feeling the weight of your unresolved feelings.
“Hey, Josh,” you say, lowering your voice to ensure Chris doesn’t overhear. “Can we talk for a second? Like… about last year?”
Josh’s expression shifts, a mix of curiosity and concern. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I just… I feel like we’ve both been avoiding it. Everything that happened before...”
His gaze softens, the vulnerability in his eyes mirroring your own. “Before my sisters disappeared.”
Just then, Chris, standing a few feet away, suddenly perks up. He catches Josh’s eye and raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. “Uh, I’ll be waiting over there,” he says, gesturing to a corner of the room. “You two take your time.”
You can’t help but smile at Chris’s teasing, but Josh rolls his eyes, a hint of embarrassment colouring his cheeks. “Thanks, Chris. We’ll try to keep it brief,” he replies, trying to suppress a grin.
As Chris saunters away, you turn back to Josh, feeling a rush of nervous energy. “So, where do we even start?” you ask, glancing around to ensure no one else is listening.
“I guess we start with the fact that I missed you,” he admits, his voice low and sincere. “When everything happened, my only focus was on finding my sisters. But I’ve thought about you a lot and regret not saying anything sooner.”
You feel your heart flutter at his words. “I missed you too. I didn’t want to complicate things when you already dealt with so much.”
“I know,” he replies, his expression pained. “And I appreciate you allowing me time to heal with my parents. Last year was such a mess. I’m just glad you had nothing to do with Hannah’s prank,” Josh admits, stepping towards you.
“Never, I could never have anything to do with that,” You say softly, giving him a warm smile.
He nods, his gaze unwavering. “I know. It would’ve hurt me a lot if you did.”
After a few moments, you poke some fun at the tension lingering from the past. “You know,” you say playfully, “I couldn’t have possibly been part of Hannah’s prank. Thanks to you last year, I was too busy being in a compromising position.”
Josh raises an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh really? Care to elaborate on that?”
You can feel the moment's weight hanging in the air, the tension from earlier dissipating as you lock eyes with Josh. The connection between you feels electric, and for a fleeting moment, the chaos of the lodge fades into the background.
You raise an eyebrow, a smile creeping onto your lips. “Are you trying to charm me, Josh?”
“Maybe,” he replies, leaning slightly closer, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve been known to have that effect on people. And honestly, what sane woman could resist it?”
Josh glances back to ensure no one is watching before he reaches out, gently brushing your arm with his hand. “Let’s go upstairs,” he says, his voice low and inviting.
As you both make your way toward the staircase, a voice interrupts your moment. Chris and Ashley round the corner, eyebrows raised in unison.
“Hey! Where are you two sneaking off to?” Chris calls out, a teasing grin spreading across his face.
You exchange a glance with Josh; both are caught off guard. “Uh, just... checking out the view from upstairs!” you manage to say, attempting to sound casual.
“Yeah, you know,” Josh adds quickly, “the top floor has the best spot for stargazing. I just wanted to make sure we don’t miss it.
Ashley leans in, her expression sceptical. “Right. Because you two need alone time for stargazing.” She smirks, clearly not buying it.
Josh nods, his grin still plastered on his face. “Yeah, we just want to hang out for a bit. You know how it is—sometimes you need a break from the chaos.”
Chris and Ashley exchange a knowing look, and you can’t help but feel your cheeks heat up under their scrutiny. “All right, all right,” Chris finally concedes, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you reply, rolling your eyes, a grin breaking through.
With one last playful eye-roll from Ashley and an exaggerated sigh from Chris, they leave you and Josh standing at the base of the stairs.
You and Josh make your way down the dimly lit hallway, the faint sound of the wind howling outside, barely breaking the heavy silence. The air feels cold against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You instinctively lean closer to him, and he responds by wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in a little tighter to keep you warm.
“Is it just me, or does it feel like this place gets colder the further we walk?” you joke, trying to lighten the mood despite the chill.
Josh chuckles softly, glancing down at you. “Yeah but don’t worry, I’ve got you.” He squeezes you gently, his warmth radiating through his skin, making you feel more at ease.
As you approach his room, the door looks more inviting against the shadows filling the hallway. Josh stops just outside, looking down at you with a hint of nervousness in his eyes. He turns the handle and opens the door, revealing a cozy space with warm lighting, the comforting scent of wood, and something faintly sweet. As he steps inside, you follow him, and he quickly shuts the door behind you, locking it with a soft click.
Once inside, the atmosphere shifts. The hallway's darkness is replaced by the warm glow of a bedside lamp, illuminating the room and casting soft shadows on the walls. It feels intimate and safe here.
Josh’s gaze drops to your lips briefly, and everything shifts in that instant. The air between you crackles with electricity, and before you can process it, he closes the distance, cupping your face gently with his hands.
Time seems to slow as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach flutter wildly as your heart races. And then, his lips find yours, soft and tentative at first, as if testing the waters.
You respond instinctively, leaning into him, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate as the tension and unspoken feelings from before surging to the surface. It feels natural as if this moment has been building for far longer than the few minutes you’ve been alone. The warmth of his body envelops you, and you lose yourself in the sensation, the world outside fading entirely from your mind.
When you finally pull away, breathless, you look into Josh’s eyes, searching for the same emotions you feel swirling inside you. His cheeks are flushed, and his gaze’s a look of wonder.
Your warmth intensifies as your lips meet again, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, a blend of pent-up emotions and undeniable attraction. Josh’s hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. The world outside the door fades entirely, leaving only the sound of your heart beating in sync.
You feel excitement as he deepens the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a newfound hunger. His hands explore your back, fingers brushing against the fabric of your sweater, sending shivers down your spine. You respond by wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer, the kiss growing more heated with each passing second.
"God, I've wanted this for so long," Josh murmurs against your lips, his breath warm and heavy, making your heart race even faster.
"Me too," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, the thrill of his admission sending a wave of excitement through you. As if sensing your need for more, he deepens the kiss, and you melt into him.
You feel his hands explore your sides, fingers brushing against your skin, igniting every nerve ending. The sensations swirl around you, and you lose yourself in the sweetness of his kiss, his intoxicating taste. Josh pulls you closer, the pressure of his body against yours, heightening the tension. You can feel the heat radiating off him, pulling you in like a magnet. The kiss becomes more frantic and desperate, as if you're afraid of what might happen if you stop.
When you break apart momentarily, Josh’s eyes dark with desire. "I can't believe it took us this long to do this again," he says, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sends shivers through you, and you lean into him, craving more.
Without breaking eye contact, he leans in again, capturing your lips in a soft and demanding kiss. You feel the fire between you intensify, and you sigh softly as you return the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you can feel his warmth against you, making it hard to think. The world outside ceases to exist; the two of you are wrapped up in this moment.
"Y/N," he murmurs, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, desires flickering in his gaze. He gestures towards your top, tugging at the bottom of it. “Can I?"
Your heart races at the question, but the answer feels instinctual. "Yes," you reply, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions.
With a spark of determination, Josh slides your t-shirt over your head. His hands slide down your back, gripping your hips as he pulls you closer, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He pulls you down with him, guiding you onto his lap.
As you settle onto his lap, the heat between you grows palpable. Josh's hands remain firm on your hips, grounding you in the moment—his gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, filled with hunger and tenderness.
With a swift movement, he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing toned muscles that glisten softly in the dim light. The sight sends a rush of excitement through you, and your breath catches in your throat.
He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I want to see you." The request ignites a thrill of anticipation within you.
Josh's fingers trace the delicate curve of your spine as he gently removes your bra, letting it fall to the floor unnoticed. His gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he takes in the sight of you. The room is quiet except for your joint breaths, each heavier than the last.
"You are so beautiful," he whispers, his voice a low, husky rumble that sends shivers down your spine.
He doesn't wait for a response. Instead, his hands slide around to cup your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You gasp, arching into his touch, your head tilting back instinctively.
"So responsive," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your jawline as he moves closer to your ear. "I love how you react to my touch."
His words tingle your skin, and you can feel the heat pooling between your legs. You want more of his hands, mouth, and more of him. You nod, unable to form words through the haze of desire clouding your mind.
With a wicked grin, Josh shifts his grip, one hand still playing with your nipple while the other slides down to your waistband. He tugs at your leggings, pulling it down your hips until it crumples at your thighs. Your panties are now exposed, and he wastes no time reaching under them, his fingers brushing against the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs.
"Spread your legs for me," he commands softly, his voice firm but not unkind.
You obey, parting your legs slightly, allowing him better access. His fingers continue their journey upward, dipping just inside the edge of your panties before finding their target. You feel the pad of his index finger glide over your clit, a slow, teasing stroke that makes you bite your lip to stifle a moan.
"That’s it," he encourages, adding another finger to circle your clit faster. "Let me hear you."
The combination of his dirty talk and touch pushes you closer to the edge. You try to maintain some semblance of control, but his fingers on your clit have reduced you to a quivering mess. Your breath comes in short gasps, and you can feel the tension building rapidly inside you.
“Josh…” you manage to whisper, your voice cracking as waves of pleasure begin to crest.
He responds by pressing harder, his thumb circling your nipple while his fingers work magic between your legs. The sensations are too intense, and you know you won't last much longer. Your body stiffens, muscles tightening as you feel the familiar rush of an impending orgasm.
"Cum for me," he orders, his voice laced with authority. "Show me how much you like my fingers."
Those words tip you over the edge. A cry escapes your lips as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you, your body trembling with the force of your release. Josh doesn't let up, continuing to stroke you through the aftershocks, ensuring every ounce of pleasure is wrung from your body.
When the tremors finally subside, you collapse against him, weak and breathless. Josh pulls his fingers away, bringing them to his mouth to lick them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. The look in his eyes tells you this is far from over.
"Now," he says, his voice rough with unspent desire, "it's my turn."
He stands up, lifting you effortlessly and laying you back onto the bed. You watch as he quickly sheds the rest of his clothes, revealing his hard, eager cock. He positions himself between your legs, his hands resting on either side of your head as he hovers above you, maintaining that intense eye contact.
"Tell me what you want," he demands, his tone brooking no refusal.
You bite your lip, considering your answer. The power dynamic has shifted, and you feel thrilled at being under his command. But you also know what you want—what you need.
"I want you inside me," you confess, your voice soft but clear. "Please, Josh."
A smile curves his lips, triumphant and possessive. "Good girl," he murmurs, lowering himself until his cock brushes against your entrance. "This might hurt a little at first. I want you to take every inch."
You nod, understanding the challenge. He slowly pushes forward, stretching you, filling you. The initial sting gives way to a deep, throbbing pleasure as he sinks deeper, inch by agonisingly delicious inch. You clutch at the sheets, trying to anchor yourself as he continues his relentless advance.
"All of it," he growls, his muscles straining as he reaches the hilt. "Take all of me."
You whimper, overwhelmed by the fullness but also by the primal rush of having him entirely inside you. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust, his hands moving to cradle your face as he gazes down at you.
"Are you ready?" he asks, though it sounds more like a statement.
Before you can answer, he pulls out slightly and then thrusts back in, which is more challenging this time. The impact makes your breath hitch, and you can't help but cry out at its intensity. He repeats the motion, each thrust more vigorous than the last, pushing you higher and higher.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he mutters, his voice strained. "So tight."
Your nails dig into his shoulders as you meet his thrusts, your hips rising to greet him. The rhythm builds, becoming more frantic, more desperate. The world narrows down to just the two of you, locked in this primal dance of lust and need.
Suddenly, he changes pace, slowing down just enough to tilt his hips differently. The angle hits a spot deep inside you that makes your vision blur with pleasure. You can feel your second climax approaching, and you cling to him for dear life.
"Josh... I'm close," you gasp, your voice barely audible.
He smiles darkly, taking that as his cue. "Then cum all over me," he says, speeding up again. "Let go."
His words trigger something within you, and you feel the dam break as another powerful orgasm rips through you. Your body convulses beneath him, and you moan his name as you ride out the waves of pleasure.
Josh doesn’t stop his thrusts, making them harder and rougher with each stroke. You begin to feel the slick between your legs turn into a gush, tiny droplets of your heat squirting on his pelvis. He slides out and pushes back in, going deeper each time. You feel his hands on your hips as he thrusts into you harder and harder, your slick still flying onto his abdomen. He looks into your eyes with a wicked smirk, his cock never slowing.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” you mumble, barely coherent.
You feel like you’re on fire, your muscles are so tense they feel like they’re about to snap, your body is clenching down on him so hard it hurts, and you feel yourself pouring like a waterfall.
Josh suddenly stops and flips you on your side, his body following suit as he lays behind you. You feel his arms wrap around your waist, his chin nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
“You know I’m not kidding when I say you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispers into your neck.
You feel him stiffen behind you and realise he’s still inside you. You moan quietly, and he slowly starts to move again. His hands grip your hips, and he picks up the pace, fucking you harder this time. You push back into him, your body desperate for his cock.
“I knew…” he grunts, his movements getting faster and faster. “I knew it the first night we met.”
You gasp at his words and start to feel another orgasm build. His cock hits a different spot inside you this time, and you feel it fill you. You begin to shake and moan as your muscles clench down on him. He lets out a loud groan, and his movements become more erratic.
“I’m gonna cum,” he moans. You feel him pick up the pace and drive himself into you repeatedly. His cock swells inside you, and you feel his hot release cover your walls. His cum floods your pussy as he fucks you through his orgasm. He collapses behind you and pulls out. You feel his cum dripping out of you and look over your shoulder at him. He’s watching your pussy with a look of satisfaction on his face.
Josh wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer into his embrace. “I shouldn’t have left you for so long. I’ve been so caught up with Hannah and Beth disappearing… but seeing you tonight reminded me of everything I’ve always felt for you.”
You stay silent, waiting to hear his following words. A short while later, you feel him getting up. You roll over onto your back and watch as he walks away, naked and utterly comfortable in his own body. He disappears out the door and returns a minute later, holding a box of tissues and a damp washcloth.
He climbs into bed, pressing the washcloth to your pussy. “I want to take care of you. I want to make sure you feel good.”
“I want to take care of you too, Josh,” You whisper, voice barely above a whisper. You’re exhausted but relaxed beyond any relaxation you’ve ever experienced.
“I love that you’re all fucked out for me,” he says. You smile at him and watch as he tosses the washcloth away and opens the box of tissues.
He pulls out a few and gently wipes his cock clean. He looks up at you as he does it, watching your reaction to him cleaning himself. You feel your body start to get warm, and your nipples perk up at the sight. He smiles as he realises what’s happening.
“I’m tempted to go for round 2, but I think it would be kind of rude for the house host to disappear for long periods… even if it’s to spend time with a super gorgeous woman,” Josh says, throwing the used tissues onto the floor and crawling back into bed with you.
“Let’s lay here for a little while,” You tell him, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer to you. He pulls the blankets over both of your naked bodies and comfortably wraps his arms around your body.
“We can lay here, but not for too long; the others will come busting in here and find us naked,” Josh laughs, playing with the hair strands dangling over your chest.
“Fine,” You yawn, feeling yourself slip into a deep slumber, “We’ll only stay for… a little… while.”
Yawn after yawn, your physical tiredness overtook your awakened state. Slowly, your eyes closed, and your muscles relaxed into the comfort of Josh’s mattress.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Josh whispers into your ear, unaware of your sleeping state. He hears a slight, feminine-sounding snore and peers over your body, observing your half-open mouth and closed eyes.
Kissing you on the forehead, Josh slowly gets out of bed and gets dressed. He has big plans for tonight, sadistic, messed-up plans… and he wanted you to have no part in it.
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sunsburns · 2 months ago
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okay but logan taking an interest in neighbor who works in fashion?? he always sees her carrying stacks of magazines, dressed in her chic attire that is sometimes a bit too tight in all the right areas, glasses slipping off her nose, always making calls on that damn phone, and yet he always wishes she looked his way…
oh anon ur cooking here. i think this is what's pulling me out of my writing slump 🥴 (wade breaking the fourth wall, suggestive 16+)
the first time he noticed you, it wasn't even in your building complex, but rather the stairs to the subway station down the street. you were rushing up the steps while he, wade, laura and al were just about to enter. it was al who noticed you first, calling out your name and poking your side with her walking staff.
you shrieked, dropping one of the fabric rolls you had been carrying, a curse at the tip of your tongue before you realized who it was. "al," you sighed, a little relieved, when you saw her and wade, who was dressed in a "i love nyc" t-shirt.
logan, being the gentleman he was, picked up the roll you dropped, handing it back to you. it was then that you looked at him, or well, briefly glanced his way with a quick "thank you" before wade started fucking talking.
that son of a bitch.
he didn't even have the courtesy to introduce the two of you to each other.
it was obvious you were in a rush, lips in a tight smile as you nodded and tried to smile at wade telling you all about how they were about to "hit up" times square.
logan felt bad for you, but only a little bit. the longer you stayed to listen to wade's painful monologue, the more he could look at you. he was a little shameless about it, perhaps not the most gentlemanly thing he could've done, but god you were just a sight for sore eyes.
a pretty thing in a mini skirt despite the cool late september breeze that was starting to kick, white, lace and ruffled. delicate with tall brown leather boots. and a washed-out denim vest you wore as a top, two buttons undone, a little pink bow tied to the pocket. logan didn't know a lot about fashion, but he liked the way clothes looked on you.
and then you were gone, al kicking wade across the shin to shut him the hell up when she realized you were in a rush. she let you go, and you left, quickly trading numbers with laura and without saying much of a goodbye or another glance logan's way.
but he watched you go, watched the way your skirt moved with the wind too.
"yeah, look at it bounce. god, i am no better than any man. " wade hummed, leaning all his weight on logan's side. "i didn't peg you as a creep, honey badger. with the way you were undressing the reader with your eyes, i would've thought you were on a registered sex offender's list."
"shut the fuck up, wade."
logan could hear the way laura snorted, her and al continuing their way down the stairs.
wade held his hands up in surrender before logan could try anything (and by anything, he meant to cut him to pieces. wade can't deal with that right now, the blood would take ages to get off his white shirt). "i'm just saying, after living with us for a few months, i would've thought you'd met her by now."
logan raised his brow, "what's that supposed to mean?"
"i mean, she literally lives across the hall." wade turned his head to the side, pointing his thumb at logan, "he can't possibly be this stupid, right? it's gotta be for the plot to build up tension or something."
from that day on, logan's started to notice you more. not that he was looking for you, he's not that big of a creep. but he's spotted you out the window some days, running down the sidewalk, always in a rush. then he was able to hear the way you slam your door shut when you leave in the mornings or when you get back home.
every single day, you're usually out and about. unless it's a sunday, those are the days you stay in your apartment, sewing and hanging out with blind old al and sometimes even fucking laura. turns out, you were the one who got laura all of those new clothes, made them for her.
jesus christ, how out of the loop was he?
you stood out like a sore thumb, always carrying something. whether it be magazines, sketchbooks, fabric rolls, or bags, you're always struggling to open your door when you get home, keys sometimes slipping from your grasp as you're trying to juggle everything.
one day, logan had come back from a run and spotted you in the hallway. well, he had heard you from floors below and was able to pick up the lingering scent of your perfume by the time he entered the lobby. it took him a bit of courage to walk up the few flights of stairs knowing he'd bump into you.
what the fuck was this?
he was a grown-ass man for god's sake. you had him overthinking and blushing at the mere thought of being in the same space again.
when he saw you in the hallway, you were on the phone, the device tucked between your ear and your shoulder, cursing under your breath as you tried to pick up your keys. you were wearing a black dress that day, a black hat and a big maroon scarf around your neck, "no, emily, don't fucking buy it in that colour. it looks like fucking vomit. i don't care what amy told you, she's basically colour blind-"
you stopped mid-sentence when logan appeared in front of you, grabbing the keys for you. "oh- uh. thanks."
"yeah, no problem."
he noticed your nails and glasses were dark red to match the scarf. lipstick too.
you didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, he could tell from the way you froze, as if you didn't know what was supposed to happen next. he had disrupted your daily pattern, everything in your life moving constantly and quickly but all of a sudden everything is slower. it left you breathless.
"you're logan, right?"
he furrowed his brows. he hadn't expected you to remember him, nevertheless, remember his name. "yeah."
"wade told me all about you," you said, and your eyes dropped from his face a little, then lower, a smirk not too different from a sly cat's. you were staring shamelessly, eyes following every part and curve of his body, the way his long-sleeve shirt clung to his skin with sweat. "you don't seem austrailan."
logan tried not to groan. the picture of wade's stupid face in his mind now that you've mentioned him. he hated that the two of you seemed close. "i'm canadian."
"aren't you full of surprises?" you laughed, a smooth, teasing sound, and finally pushed the keys into the nob, unlocking the door. you turned, lingering by the door as if you were about to invite him in, but then the voice from your phone was trying to get your attention and you nearly seemed disappointed. "i'll see you around, logan."
and you were gone again.
logan liked to see your different outfits every day, dawning a different style every time you walked out that door. it was like you could never settle for one style, but you managed to look so fucking good in everything and every colour you put on.
he could never get tired of it. never get tired of you.
you and your tiny bottoms that he swore were getting smaller and smaller every day, even though the city grew colder and the days shorter. you and your stupid phone calls that sometimes went on late at night. you and your clothes, every single one different from the last.
you and your sketches, the ones he had started to find loose pages on the floor of the small hallway between your apartments, pretty designs of lingerie on a model that looked a little bit too much like you for it to be a coincidence.
though you never made another attempt to talk to him, you knew he was watching you. but you never chased, your heels were too expensive for that. you were just trying to give him a reason to come on you.
to you**
to come to you.*
sorry. typo.
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jobean12-blog · 3 months ago
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Stay
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader
Word Count: 1,176
Summary: You and Bucky have been doing the flirty friends dance for a while now, the tension building but when nothing seems to progress any further you accept a date from another guy...
Author's Note: So I was just thinking about the hotness of dry humping and when you just have to find release in the moment and all that and I love the whole friends to lovers trope. There isn't a ton of back story here but it's the usual. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: fluffy, softness, tension, dry humping, confessions lol
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“Are you sure I didn’t wake you Bucky?”
He’s standing in the doorway of his apartment in nothing but sweatpants that hang low on his hips. His hair is mussed and falling over his forehead, and you can smell the soap on his skin.
You try to keep your eyes trained on his face.
“I’m sure,” he says as he takes your hand and leads you into his apartment. “I’ve been up for a while.”
He rubs the back of his neck and glances at you as you take off your jacket.
“So, are you going to tell me more about this date…that was over at what eight o’clock?” he asks teasingly.
“Maybe it was closer to nine,” you laugh.
“Doll,” he chides, still staring.
You groan and hang your jacket over the chair. “I just wasn’t…he wasn’t…”
Your words die off when you see the expression on his face. His eyes are wide, and his lips are slightly parted as his gaze moves slowly down your body.
“What?” you ask.
“What are you…did you walk all the way over here in that?”
You drop your head to look down at your clothing. “Oh.”
“I probably should have thought about that but I…I wanted to see you and…”
“It’s fine,” Bucky mumbles before he swallows hard and tries to focus on filling a glass of water.
“So…the date?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the sink.
“I guess I didn’t really want to be there. I had other things on my mind.”
“Like?” he counters.
“Likeeeeee…um.”
“Me?”
His one-word response comes out quietly and as more of a question and when his eyes meet yours they’re soft and shy and a little hopeful.
“Yeah,” you answer, looking down as you twist your hands in front of you.
“Well, in case you didn’t get the memo before, I wasn’t exactly having an easy time sleeping over here…or doing anything else for that matter.”
You look up again and meet his stare as he continues.
“I can’t concentrate on shit. Sam keeps giving me hell because I’m not focused.”
You laugh softly as you move closer. “I know exactly what you mean. I’m so wound up I can hardly sit still.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, running his hand over his hair with an exhale. “I hate that you went on a date with another guy tonight.”
“I hate it too. I don’t even know why I did,” you say quietly, inching closer. “All I kept thinking, is that I wanted it to be you.”
He closes the distance, his eyes searching every inch of your face. “I should have stopped you and told you…”
You wait for him to finish, knowing this is all new again for him.
“I don’t think... I’ve never been this distracted by anyone before,” he whispers.
You’re so close you can see the small patches of gray hairs that line his shadowed jaw and without thinking you lean in and brush your lips to his.
He sucks in a breath, and you feel him press his body against yours.
“I have no idea what we’re doing,” he admits. “But I do know that I don’t want anyone else to take you out…to kiss you…to have you.”
“Bucky…”
His name is a whispered plea, and he tilts his head and closes his eyes, moving just enough to kiss you softly.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs.
There is no way you could.
Instead, you reach up, slide your fingers along the back of his neck and press your lips more firmly to his.
And then he pushes forward, closer, lining up your bodies so that you can feel the hard shape of him against your stomach.
Your hand slides along his skin and you feel the solid strength of muscle in his back as he walks you backward until you fall gently onto the couch.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispers against your lips.
He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes and sweeps his thumb across your bottom lip.
“Me either,” you tell him, shifting until his length is pressed right between your legs.
He swears and dips back down to kiss you. Your hips roll and his face falls to your neck with a groan.
“Fuck that feels good,” he murmurs, moving with you.
The material of his sweatpants is thin and your sleep shorts even thinner and you can feel every inch of him.
Your hips press up from the couch and you give his hair a tug.
“That’s it doll,” he says. “Don’t stop.”
His mouth follows his hands everywhere and you grow more and more desperate, searching for friction as you rub against him repeatedly.
“Bucky,” you gasp.
He rocks his hips forward and against you, the perfect drag of heat and pressure just where you need it.
Your fingers twist into his hair and you feel yourself start to fall, closing your eyes as your release rushes through your body. You cry out his name and feel his hips move faster, his grip tight on your skin as he grunts into your neck when he comes.
He collapses against you, his breath warm on your skin before pushing up onto his elbows and looking down at you with a sweet, drowsy, and almost timid expression.
“Hey doll,” he says, his lips tilting into a lopsided smirk.
“Hiya Buck,” you whisper, running a hand over his hair.
“Doing that made me feel young again,” he chuckles. “Like a teenager.”
Your smile is bright as you trace the crinkle lines around his eyes. “I didn’t think that was possible.”
He feigns an appalled look and then brushes his nose to yours with a smirk.
“You just made me come in my pants. I have no control when it comes to you.”
“Is that a bad thing?” you ask with a soft smile.
“No,” he murmurs. “Definitely not.”
His large hand cradles your cheek, and he kisses your forehead, then your temple, his lips moving slowly along your skin until they meet the spot just below your ear.
“I…um…I don’t mean to run off,” he starts. “But I just want to clean up and change.”
Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, and you start to giggle, patting his back.
He kisses you softly once, then twice before he pushes himself up but then he pauses, hovering above you, and as if he can’t bear to leave you his body covers yours again and he kisses you with more urgency.
When he pulls away his breathing is heavy, and his eyes are hooded.
“I want to stay with you tonight Bucky,” you whisper.
He watches you for a moment, never breaking eye contact, waiting for you to change your mind.
You stare right back and wait for his answer.
“If you stay…” he starts.
You’re already nodding. “I know.”
“I’m not going to be able to have you in my bed and not…I might not be able to go slow.”
You pull him down for another kiss. “I know.”
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ninibeingdelulu · 4 months ago
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Cute things he do as your boyfriend
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He's a total sweetheart behind that brooding exterior, always finding little ways to shower you with affection even amongst his buddies.
Like how his large, calloused palm will drift up to tenderly ruffle your hair whenever you sidle up beside him. You adore nuzzling into that comforting touch while he tries fighting off the edges of a dopey grin.
Or when you're all piled together chatting and he senses your skirt riding dangerously high. Rather than making a big fuss, he simply angles his body to block any view before smoothly tugging the fabric back into place with the barest ghosting of knuckles skimming along your thigh.
The second you mention feeling even the tiniest pang of hunger, he's springing into action - damn near hauling you bodily out the door if needed.
Next thing you know, you're cozied up in a comfy booth at your favorite low-key diner or parked in front of the glow of some charmingly hole-in-the-wall mom-and-pop joint's neon sign as he patiently waits to order whatever crazy pregnancy craving crosses your mind that day.
Every Friday without fail, he returns home from his deliveries with a fresh, beautifully arranged bouquet clutched behind his back. You squeal in delight as he shyly presents them, ducking his head in that bashful way whenever you pepper his flushed cheeks with grateful kisses.
He'll then sprawl across the sofa, pulling you down to nestle between his spread thighs as you gush about all the latest office gossip making the rounds.
Despite his feigned clueless guy act, he proves he was hanging on every breathless ramble by reciting back the tawdry details word-for-word with a mischievous smirk when you tease about his wandering attention.
And at the end of those idyllic evenings spent tucked up close simply basking in one another's presence, he always envelops you fully in that heavenly warm embrace you crave.
Those broad arms locked snugly around your waist from behind as he nuzzles against your nape, inhaling deep - like somehow your very scent provides the balm allowing his soul to finally unwind completely.
Only then does that last lingering muscle tension bleed out with a contented sigh rumbling past his lips.
"Just keep doing whatever magic this is, love..." His rasping whisper fans over your sensitized skin in the dim glow. "You, here, in my arms each night...that's the closest thing to real peace I've ever known."
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cloud strife, megumi fushiguro, rin itoshi, sae itoshi, sasuke uchiwa, aki hayawaka, katsuki bakugo, shoto todoroki
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daisynik7 · 1 year ago
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A Helping Hand
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Pairing: Nanami x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~1.3k
cw: next-door neighbor Nanami, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, cream pie, sex without a condom, mention of sex toys, use of pet names (sweetheart), just horny things lol 
Summary: You’re so completely insatiable that you’re going a tad bit insane. You enlist the aid of your next-door neighbor Nanami, who you know is more than willing to help.
Author’s Note: idk, just feeling a little feral for him, that’s all. this is a silly one, sorry. MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
part 2 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series
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You stare wide-eyed up at the ceiling of your bedroom, legs apart, the blankets shrugged off to the side. You’re naked from the waist-down, panties tossed to the floor with your vibrator hanging loosely in your grip. You’ve been going at it for nearly half an hour now, trying to chase a high that you just can’t seem to reach on your own. Sure, you’re doing fine. That’s just it, though. It’s just fine. Nothing spectacular, nothing mind-blowing. Tonight, you’re desperate to be filled, aching to be stuffed. Stimulation on your clit alone isn’t enough to satiate your appetite. 
You. Need. Cock.
And you think you know exactly where to find it. 
Nanami is your next-door neighbor. He’s quiet, even a bit shy at times. You’ve always found him attractive. Aside from his obvious good looks, he’s been kind to you since you met him when you moved in months ago. You’ve shared several meals together after you gave him fresh herbs and cherry tomatoes from your garden. That seemed to break the ice between you. Nothing more has ever happened, though there’s a palpable tension that surrounds you whenever you’re together, almost like you’re both willing to cross the line from neighbors to lovers, but too scared to do so. Subtle glances, lingering touches, suggestive comments. 
If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.
Whatever you need, I’ll be here.
I’m here for you if you need me.
Tonight, you’re in heat, daring to march right into his apartment and ask him for a huge favor. This might go horribly wrong, and maybe you’ll end up moving out from sheer embarrassment, but you know what? The fantasy of taking his big cock deep in your pussy is enough to convince you that it’s worth a shot. 
You wrap yourself in a robe, not bothering to put on any underwear, still wet from your previous orgasms. With three gentle knocks on his door, your heart starts to race, your instincts willing you to walk right back into your apartment and forget about this ridiculous idea. It’s too late, however. He answers, surprised to see you. You greet him with a weak smile, suddenly shy in his presence. “Hello, Nanami. Sorry to bother you.”
“You’re not,” he replies, stepping aside to let you in. “Are you alright?”
He shuts the door closed and you don’t have the nerve to look him in the eye. You were so confident just moments ago, and now look at you. Trembling and flustered. You cross your arms over your chest, unsure what to say. 
You feel him right behind you now, his body heat radiating towards you, close enough that if either of you moved even the slightest bit, you’d be touching. His breath is warm on your ear. “Are you alright?” he repeats, genuine concern in his voice. He’s always been so sweet to you. So nice. So helpful. Maybe he’d be okay with doing this for you, just this once. 
You turn to face him, cheeks hot, saliva gathering in your mouth. Swallowing thickly, you ask, “Can you help me?” It almost comes out as a whimper, a whine. So needy and so desperate for his touch.
His eyes drop to your waist, focused on the loose knot holding your robe together. His fingers tug gently at it, pulling it apart, revealing your half-naked body to him. You gasp softly, surprised and aroused by his sudden action. “Finally,” is all he mutters before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. He’s hungry and greedy, just like you are, tongue pushing against yours, eager for a taste of you. You moan into his mouth, pawing at his chest, bunching his shirt between your fists. He leads you to the couch, sitting down and hoisting you onto his lap, sliding the robe off your body along with the rest of your clothes. You’re completely bare for him now, spread out on his lap. He looks down between you, watching your arousal seep into his grey sweatpants. 
“So wet,” he groans. “How many times did you come tonight?” He grabs your chin, pulling you in to kiss you fiercely. 
“Three,” you answer, licking at his lips. 
He smiles against you, fingers trailing your body until they’re pressed to your puffy clit. “That sounds about right. I heard you through the walls, fucking yourself silly.”
“You did?” you huff, grinding on his palm, yearning for friction. 
He nods. “Oh yes. I heard every filthy moan from this pretty mouth of yours. Been waiting for you to finally give in and ask me for help.” He strokes your clit between his fingers, teasing your entrance to collect your cum, smearing it on your bud.
“Oh fuck,” you whine, rocking your hips against him. It feels so fucking good, but it’s still not enough. 
He knows exactly what you need. With his free hand, he shoves his pants down his legs, releasing his hard cock. You marvel at how pretty it is in his fist, stroking it and tapping it on your clit. You lift yourself off his lap to sink down onto his length, moaning wantonly until he’s all the way inside. Staying still, he kisses you sloppily, squeezing your ass in both his hands. 
“This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it sweetheart?” He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, nuzzling his nose to yours. “You wanted this cock, and now you have it. Show me how badly you need it.” He leans back against the couch, resting his palms behind his head, watching you like a spectator. “Ride me until I fill you up.”
Too horny to protest (and why would you anyways?), you obey, stroking his cock at a slow pace until you can adjust to his massive size. Once it becomes a fluid motion, you speed up, slapping your ass against his thighs. He’s deep in your womb now, so deep you feel it in your stomach. This is precisely the high you’ve been chasing all night, and it only makes it sweeter knowing it’s with him. Your handsome, nice, and clearly well-endowed neighbor, Nanami Kento. 
He's can’t stand not touching you any longer. His hands return to your waist, bouncing you on his lap like a rag doll, yielding to his every thrust. “You needed my cock today, huh? Needed my dick to pound this tight pussy of yours. Your stupid little toys weren’t enough, were they?”
You shake your head erratically, so close now. “Need you, Kento. Needed this fat cock inside me.”
He growls at the sound of his name from your mouth. “Fuck, I needed this too. Been needing it for a while now.” He latches his lips around your nipples, sucking on them until they’re plump between his lips. His thumb caresses your sensitive clit, massaging gentle circles around it. Suddenly, everything is too much. You’re gushing for him, coating his cock in your cream, all messy and obscene. Soon, he comes too, stuffing you full of his seed. Just when you think it’s over, he pulls out to lay you flat on the couch, spreading your legs wide, a naughty grin on his face before he dives in, lapping at your combined arousal. 
You wake up with Nanami’s name spilling out of your mouth. Disoriented, you look around, finding yourself back in your own bed, alone. It was all a dream. A fucking dream (literally). Disappointed and still horny, you sigh, heading to the bathroom to clean yourself up, calling it quits for the night. 
To your surprise, there’s a knock on your door. When you go to answer it, Nanami stands before you, an obvious blush on his face and an even bigger bulge in his grey sweatpants. He steps towards you, a shy smile on his face. “I heard you calling my name. Sounds like you could use a helping hand.” 
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ybklix · 5 months ago
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stressed out
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★ pairing: dr!chrisbang x fem!uni student reader
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✦summary: Your session with Dr. Bang gets interesting when he kindly decides to relieve the stress you're carrying from the last days of university before the summer break, without knowing that all the tension in your body is due to the great desire you have for him.
✭ content - tags - warnings: MDNI 18+ , smut, oral sex, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, slightly dirty talk and praise kink, use of nicknames.
word count: 7.7k
—masterlist—
a/n: yk me, a little story that leads to smut.
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It was your last day at the university, one more semester finished. You were so close to free yourself from that heavy semester at the university, but somehow you didn't feel so free at all, you were still worried about getting good grades, you knew you would pass everything without difficulty but you were a little demanding with your grades, so you were nervous, and you left your last class a little crestfallen, something that the rest of the students celebrated non-stop, you sighed, you had heard in the distance of the infinity of parties planned, the perfect vacations of the rest, but you could only think about packing all your things without worrying and your mother who would be waiting for you outside the university to spend the summer at home.
Despite being a bit stressed and upset about the soon to be released grades, you had dressed up to finish a cycle feeling cute; you had a nice outfit and your makeup intact so you thought about calling your friends to hang out for a while, who had skipped the last class downplaying it and self-assigning them the break, you checked your group chat and read that they would be in the coffee shop across the building if you wanted to join them... but in the midst of the campus and student chaos, you realized it was Friday. Friday. Of which usually aren't just those days for you. You knew so well what day it was in the morning so you picked the perfect outfit for it, but between the stress and caos of being the last day, you became unaware of the rest of your activities.
Every Friday, at least since this semester, since for a long time it used to be Wednesdays, you had counselor sessions with Dr. Bang, an overworked psychiatrist with four jobs at once, director of a mental institution, his own consulting room, professor and simply student counselor, Bang didn't want to take the big job of being a therapist for the students but upon detecting any alarming problem he was well within his rights to ask the student for professional help, with their cooperation and consent, clearly. You met Dr. Bang just at the worst time of your life, but the timing was perfect, he managed to break you out of a hole that seemed to have no way out.
You had a very painful loss just before finishing high school that altered your mental health completely, your father passed away and a month later you finished your high school studies, so that did not affect so much your streak of student excellence, by that time you had everything ready for admission to any university of excellence for which you applied. Until the university you always dreamed of accepted you and in a short time you were dealing with grief and the pressure and stress of a new place and environment, you moved away from home promising your mother to continue being a good student, but you were in a deep depression and had recurrent anxiety attacks, terrified that you were not good enough, which complicated your studies… and more when without thinking, you planned and considered leaned for health sciences, pushing you to the limit. You were so embarrassed because all your life academically you were a complete overachiever and suddenly you couldn't cope with college, you felt more awful, a total disappointment; so with a mediocre grades -for you- you passed the first semester and continued the next one, this time committing to do your best and going to therapy, plus your mom noticed the obvious alarming signs the few times she saw you during your winter break, she understood the magnitude of things and offered you to take a break, but you were not like that, you couldn't take it or you would feel things would get worse. You switched dorm buildings and that's when you met him… in one of the study halls near your building, one random Wednesday afternoon when you decided to study, 'Counselor Dr. Bang', engraved on the plaque on that door at the end of the hallway… it sort of caught your attention, you thought if counselors in high school was the same as in college and that if anything... he could give you more of a vocational orientation than a psychologist; since you had tried everything, your old study method, countless other techniques, going to study in groups with your smug classmates with superiority complex, but nothing worked for you to retain important information, you thought that maybe you needed someone mature who could guide you.
After that day, you tried to get together to study again in a group, exactly in the room of that building and out of mere curiosity you asked what in particular does 'Dr. Bang', to which you remember perfectly that suddenly all their eyes were focused on you, “Oh, he's also a psychiatrist, he helps a lot, from what I've heard”, you remember their answers.
You then asked how come you could get close to his help, but you were surprised by the sudden exaltation of one girl out of the other 3 in the group.
“Girl, don't go see Dr. Bang, he's mine” you remembered that time your classmate started joking. The others laughed however you found it strange.
“I'm not kidding, I'll finish med school and marry him,” the girl continued.
Another of your girl classmates replied, “Good luck with that. I don't think he would settle for just a girl finishing med school… I mean he has been working here for a while and he's never been known to have a single affair with a student or a recent graduate, you don't even know for sure if he has a wife or kids, he's very private. But I do hear he's important in every job he has.”
“For him I'll find the damn cure for cancer if that's what he wants…wait, when is he going to be our professor?”
“Mmm, I guess until senior…”
“I can't wait” replied the girl excitedly for Bang.
“I honestly don't think you'll make it until senior” added another girl there amused.
One guy rolled his eyes as he overheard the conversation and called for your attention to forget the little twisted comments, “He's really nice, you can go with him anytime, but… to have recurring sessions with him, I think you need to validate that you're really fucked up, since he has a pretty busy schedule.” You nodded, paying attention to him.
“Next week I'll prove I'm a psycho to see him all the time” the girl joked again.
That afternoon the other guys simply laughed, but in you a seed of curiosity had been planted and…. you didn't want to be rude, but their study group was not helpful to you and was not bearing fruit at all, so the next day you went to the mental health department of your university and requested meetings with Dr. Bang, while presenting your long history of appointments with your therapist and your difficulty with learning, so initially the manager suggested you go directly to a female counselor, to make you feel more comfortable... so you didn't have the slightest problem, however he mentioned that he would tell Dr. Bang, as he cleared each of his students beforehand and on Monday you received an email confirming your schedule with Bang on Wednesday afternoons.
And since then your adventure began in late February two years ago. It wasn't until you finally got in and met him that you understood all of your classmate's comments, he was an incredibly attractive and intelligent man. Bang was about to quit after considering working long enough as a counselor, he wanted to focus on less work and prioritize the ones he considered more important… as well as organize and relocate his social life, he wanted to focus on making a life, meeting a woman to marry since his last relationship lasted but was unsuccessful, one of the few things Bang was unsuccessful at was love, Bang was beginning to give up on the search for a relationship, and even considered devoting himself completely to his work and studying another specialty. To cope with the loneliness he used to have casual sex with naïve, young, pretty nurses that made them lose their sanity, but he never took anything seriously, until he met you. You made him stay and he didn't want to admit it, until recently.
Bang saw you, so helpless and vulnerable… and he found something in you that he had never felt before. He saw himself in you, an overachiever. Bang in his early days also had his problems that had caused him to lose focus on what he fought so hard to achieve. Listen to your story was like listening himself.
And so two years went by, he taught you absolutely everything he knew, having study sessions which motivated you and your meetings were reflected in your good grades… however, Bang's admirers found it a little strange that after so long he never officially discharged you, so they began to speculate small rumors that did not pass away from your classmates, but he couldn't, you both enjoyed each other's company so much. So just at the beginning of the year, he decided to move your typical Wednesdays to Fridays, when he usually did not attend the university, but he did it exclusively for you, plus being almost the weekend, students did not resort so much to the study hall, making your visits more discreet.
After so long, the two of you created a purely professional union… until recently, last year before your winter break, when the little flirtations finally began, the complicit glances, the double entendre comments, the slight friction when sitting so close to each other and… for the first time, this year, his touch towards you. He was always there, a year after your meetings you confessed to him your deepest sadness and the reason why your mental health and ability to concentrate were affected, to which he saw you as he had never seen you before, so bad and down, so that every anniversary of your father's death you made a small comment which Bang immediately comforted you and made you feel good, until a little over a month ago, you were more than sad, you were stressed in some way, you lived with the burden of knowing that your mother was sad and lonely, you wanted to focus completely on the university and you still had the pain of the departure of that someone, so Bang slowly persuaded you to tell him exactly how you felt and… slowly and gently he began to massage your shoulders, an act that surprised you but helped too much, you hadn't had contact or that kind of attention in years as you were too busy at school and suddenly the pressure of his fingers on your tense muscles felt so good; after massaging you, he said a little awkward and with a nervous chuckle if that was okay with you, so you couldn't agree more. And his massages continued, but the next time you felt it differently, maybe because you were ovulating and you really liked Dr. Bang, but from then on you left his office feeling aroused.
With him everything was easier for you, you felt that it was unfair to others, but you were still incredibly lucky to have him, every week he would sit with you and help you study every single complicated topics of extremely important subjects, he was your individual tutor, you admired him more and more, he was a know-it-all. Then you got to know more about his personality a little bit… he was quite kind and tender, a little bit strange, nervous and rambled too much with what he wanted to say but, he helped you so much that now you stood out among the whole student body and you even felt that you changed your habits, suddenly you were more tidy and… you would occasionally listen to his favorite music to feel close to him, even though you weren't, when you left that office you didn't see him again until your next session, you rarely saw him walking around the campus, but, it was enough time together that, you got to know each other so well as you slowly let out slight details about yourselves.
You didn't know if he would be there, you had no fixed thing to communicate on other than e-mail and it wasn't something that young people your age regularly use as a purpose of communication… you just waited for him to open the door, you were hesitant to knock… you had both said goodbye last time with a “see you next week” but you had completely forgotten that it would be the last day of school. The study room was a mess, more students celebrating and behaving childishly while you stood outside of your mature counselor's door, wanting to see him one last time before you went home, you knew Bang wouldn't be able to try anything with you so you don't want to waste energy trying to flirt but… seeing him was enough for you, living in the delusion of a life together kept you a little human and not just an academic machine.
You knocked on his door softly, with the same pattern of knocks you unconsciously put together over the years, two knocks, one second and the third knock. Your hopes didn't even manage to dampen, as he opened the door immediately and your nerves escalated out of all proportion. He smiled at you as he saw you, forming two soft dimples below his mouth, there you were, in front of him waiting for your session with him. You looked up to get a better look at him, Dr. Christopher Bang, looking so breathtaking and masculine, you wanted to let out a sigh but didn't let yourself do it. Bang stepped aside to let you pass and closed the door behind you.
You observed the place, his office decorated in gothic architecture just like the rest of the university, full of wood and bookshelves and, in his chair behind his desk, you noticed his medical gown overlapping on the back of it, you assumed he must have come from the hospital, Chris was wearing dark cloth pants, perfectly ironed white button down shirt, tight to his muscular body and a thin black tie. Just when you couldn't find him more attractive, it was only enough for you to turn to see him again, to make your heart race and your breathing become heavy, sometimes you wondered if for him it was visible the effects he had on you, after all he was the studied doctor.
“Welcome” he said softly.
You walked into the small living room area in his office, into his leather couches, the light was very bright from his large window behind his desk and in front of his living room.
“Hi” you replied, smiling lively.
Chris placed his hands behind his back and walked over to you.
“I thought you weren't coming today, weren't you supposed to be at some party celebrating your last day of school?” he teased you a little.
He always joked that you weren't the party type of girl, you liked to get drunk once in a while but a party full of sweaty college kids wasn't a fun or hygienic option for you, Chris found it adorable.
You let out a giggle and turned your whole body to face him.
“I couldn't miss my last session with you, Dr. Bang” you commented seductively to which Chris swallowed nervously, he was so turned on when you suddenly got that way but as an adult, he had to concentrate.
But even pretending to be flirtatious you couldn't hide your slight grimace at being stressed, your head hurt a little, and uselessly you thought that being with Chris would take the pain away eventually. He knew you so well that, his slight nervousness at being excited changed in a second to concern.
“Everything okay?” he changed his tone and softened the movement of his eyebrows.
You opened your eyes in surprise as he recognized something happening and sketched a smile. You sighed and walked a few steps to the elongated couch and plopped down.
“Yeah… just… same old same old, I'm worried about my grades” you replied worriedly.
Chris let out a chuckle, he couldn't believe the obsessive little monster he had turned you into, you were twenty one years old and you should be worrying about more banal things like… the launching of some celebrity's new makeup line, since makeup was one of the things you were interested in besides being the best.
“You'll do fine” he spoke sweetly to you. Chris was about to approach you but had another idea, heading to his little liquor area. “Well… if you won't go party with guys your own age, then I'll party with you, here's to another successful semester” you heard him say behind you followed by a sound of glass clinking softly.
You turned your body to see him pouring alcohol into two glasses. Your nerves escalated further, it was the first time you would have that kind of activity.
“What is it?” you asked curiously as you watched him attractively approach you with the two glasses ready.
Chris smiled sideways in amusement and sat down next to you, handing you your glass.
“Whiskey, but drink it slow, sweetie.”
You blushed immediately upon hearing him call you that, he gently raised his glass in toast and you clinked your glass with his. Chris didn't drink from his drink until you did, which surprised you. He watched you intently as you brought the glass to your mouth.
“Like this, slowly, and then quickly…” he said in concentration.
You watched him as you did it and found it so appealing, however you closed your eyes tightly grimacing in disgust as you felt the alcohol burn your throat, which distracted you completely. He let out a chuckle as he saw your expression and quickly drank his without difficulty, just a slightly grimacing with his mouth.
“It's a bit strong for many people” Chris added.
“It was for me” you replied pushing the glass away and setting it down on the small table in front of you.
“Are you stressed?” he said suddenly, trying to make conversation.
You nodded softly, running your tongue around your mouth trying to forget the taste of alcohol.
“You know I am… I'm really nervous about the grades, I think they'll be posted tomorrow.”
“Will you be here in the city for tomorrow?” he asked to which you softly shook your head, Chris didn't like that, he could see you every day… but you were a student and practically his patient, it was completely unethical. “And what will you do once you're back in your hometown?”
You smiled at him.
“I don't know, it'll be boring, I'll look for a job, I'll try to be useful.”
Chris looked you straight in the eye and blurted out without thinking.
“My consulting room needs a receptionist… I mean, it's a job and…. you can keep learning.”
He lied, but he could fire his receptionist without thinking if you took him up on the offer. You looked at him puzzled more however you didn't remark your expression so well.
“Dr. Bang… Sorry, I don't have anywhere to stay in the city” you confessed apologetically, not knowing what to say.
Bang lowered his gaze to the glass and his long fingers intertwined in it, he was dying to tell you that that wasn't a problem, you could stay with him as long as you wanted… but once again he had to set limits.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, sorry. Still the offer is well standing.”
“Thank you.”
“Feeling a little more relaxed already?” he asked again, you nodded. “You know… I still remember my last day of the semester when I was twenty-one, there was this party at Delta Psi fraternity… it was a little… weird, I hope things have changed now” he counted animatedly.
You frowned, ready to hear more of his anecdote and founding sweet that he wanted to distract you, but a loud knock on his door followed by noise from outside startled you. Chris sighed in annoyance.
“Will you excuse me?” he stood up, holding his tie and headed for his door.
You stirred in your seat, he looked so fine pissed off and backwards as he walked to the door. Once again you were beginning to tense up, but this time from sexual frustration.
“Can you please stop making noise? You are in college, behave accordingly, or go outside and make noise you want” exclaimed Chris, scolding those outside, he turned to you “Sorry… the noise.”
Chris locked the door as a reflex and sat down again next to you, this time closer to you, you were about to ask him and tell him to resume his anecdote, but you lost yourself in the closeness of his face, and you analyzed the harmony of it, his dark hair, his straight eyebrows, sharp and small eyes, his prominent and attractive nose in combination with his full pink lips; you tensed again and your heart beat got stronger. Chris admired you too, from your perfectly detailed face with makeup, even the nice outfit you were wearing, Bang licked his lips… feeling the tension and a myriad of dirty thoughts crossing his mind and everything he would do to you, if only he would put his morals aside. Chris recalled his vivid memories of being twenty-one… the gentleness and sweetness that girls that age tasted… Chris closed his eyes and gently turned his head away from you, trying to clear each of those thoughts. Of the anatomy of your pussy prostrate on his cock, of you in genupectoral position with the vulnerability of your ass and needy pussy at his mercy.
Fuck, Chris thought, for the first time in all your encounters -and in his entire career- he was getting hard, they were just innocent little flirtations… but just not today, today his body was betraying him as it never had before. Chris cleared his throat and reacted in seconds, he didn't want you to suspect something was wrong so… just this time he decided to put his morals aside and pay attention to his human needs and carnal desires. He was going to fuck you so good that would make you get a fucking apartment just to do it with him every day.
“I'm glad you're okay but…” he said slowly sitting back up and bringing his hands to your weak shoulders, “I still feel you a little tense.”
You almost sighed at his sudden touch, but it was true, your muscles were stiff from being so excited and unable to do anything; Chris wasn't an idiot, this was just a excuse to touch you but he got a big surprise to really find you stressed. But for you more than stress it was frustration.
Chris kept squeezing your muscles until he squeezed a little too hard, causing you to moan; that was it, that alone was enough for Chris to fully sexually arouse him, he was hard and, if it wasn't because you were so focused on yourself not to screw up and not look like a horny mess, you would notice that Bang was in the same situation as you.
“You're so stressed, honey, look at you” he spoke in a thick voice of which surprised you.
You had your eyes closed in embarrassment and it occurred to you to open them as you heard him a little different… concentrating to Chris looking at you with dark eyes of pure desire, weakening your body more in seconds, you saw his strong arms near your shoulders and…. unconsciously you looked down, finally discovering his prominent erection that surprised you at how big it looked. He was as aroused as you were.
“Fuck, y/n, you're so tense… I can feel it… all over your body…” he spoke again excitedly, making your attention focus on him.
You saw him bite his lip and started to lower his hands squeezing your arms.
“Are you stressed, sweetie?” he asked again, until his hands reached your thighs squeezing them.
“Yes” you moaned.
“You’re so tense, I can feel it… more in this place” Bang said squeezing your thigh and directing his fingers to your already wet pussy, “Let me make you feel good, babygirl” he moaned.
Your body jolted as you felt his hands gently spread your legs apart and brush his fingertips across your panties. You couldn't process that he had finally decided to cross that line, but it felt so good. You always wore only underwear under your skirt on purpose for Dr. Bang.
“Relax, relax, make yourself comfortable, babygirl” he spoke softly in his therapist voice combined with desire, making you lean your back against the back of the couch, “Spread your legs, let me make you feel good, are you okay with that?” he raised his eyebrows waiting for an answer.
“Y-yes” you gasped again.
Bang smiled sideways and quickly got down on his knees between your legs, he gently lifted your skirt and admired the fabric of your wet underwear from the situation.
“I'm going to take all the stress off you, okay babygirl?”
You nodded, completely blinded by desire as you watched your chest rise and fall heavily. Chris began to stroke your clitoris over the thin white fabric of your underwear, making you explode in pleasure with his fine touch, he squeezed your entrance and labia, gently stimulating them. You bit your lip trying not to gasp loudly, finally he pulled the fabric aside and looked with estimation at your entrance lubricating itself, so helpless and needy as he opened your folds, making you let out a high pitched whimper.
Chis licked his lips again hungrily, he had never seen another pussy as appetizing and juicy as yours, he was dying to taste it but wanted to focus on your pleasure. He slid down your panties, leaving you bare of your bottom part and you gasped as you felt the cool air brush against your throbbing, exposed pussy.
“Let me make you feel good” he repeated, stroking the length of your folds and labia, “Feels good?”
You nodded again with difficulty, you were beginning to tremble with overstimulation, Bang began stroking your clitoris again, leading to your body, satisfaction and little twitches. You saw his hand play with your pussy from your angle and how he smiled with satisfaction, the sensations were getting stronger and newer for you that you were feeling desperate and so good at the same time.
“Just relax your body, let yourself go, babygirl” he whispered in a low, lustful voice. “I'm going to stick two fingers in you, okay?”
“Yes” you said again this time more yielding, trying to relax your stiff body a bit more, at the same time struggling to keep your legs open as you had no fixed support to leave them on.
Chris again pulled your folds apart to get a better view of your soaking wet little entrance, making you shudder, he gently brushed your entrance and watched your every reaction, so excited and fighting your instincts, then he realized that seeing your pussy was not enough, he wanted to see all of you and touch every corner of your body. Chris stopped touching your pussy for a moment to which you felt as if something was missing. You saw him, his gaze conveyed desire, yet he didn't leave his gentle and sweet countenance.
“But first, babygirl, let your whole body calm down, go on, undress for me.”
You slowly sat up and toke off your blouse as you stared at him while he looked at you expectantly.
“That's it, good girl, undress. I'll do the same, alright?” you bit your lip and heat came to your ears and stomach as you heard him tell you good girl, unsure what he meant after that, you finally took off your bra as well.
Dr. Bang bit his lips at the sight of your bare chest and admired the shape of your tits with nerve and desire, you smiled slightly in satisfaction knowing you had him so turned on too and understood everything when you watched his hand go to his belt, all your attention focused on his deft long fingers unbuckling his belt and then opening the button of his pants, slowly sliding the zipper all the way down, and finding with his tight black boxer and his protruding hard bulge with little drops of precum, suddenly your mouth felt so lonely, you wanted to make him feel good too but didn't know how to say such boldness and, as anxiety consumed you, he finally pulled down his underwear relieving of his big wiggling and growing cock all by itself. You had never felt so eager for a cock this much in your life, you wanted to taste the softness of his red swollen tip coated in his precum and feel every pumping vein of his length. You thought his cock was so attractive and clean looking, just like the bearer of it.
Chris gasped at finally having his cock free, yet he would feel freedom and at the same time captivity when his member is buried deep inside you making you feel good. Only then would he be free, when your muscles completely relax and you overflow your sweet orgasm on him. He smiled mischievously as he saw you not taking your eyes off his cock, Bang knew clearly that he was well endowed and could hurt your tight sensitive hole if he didn't do it carefully, after all he knew perfectly well the anatomy of both sexes and knew the sensations of a big intruder inside a woman's vagina. Chris didn't want to take you and fuck you wildly, his whole life and career was based on discipline and dedication, so he wanted you to enjoy every second of what the sexual act entailed, besides he loved to help you in every possible way, you were always very well behaved with him, you innocently followed his little flirting game but never dared to throw yourself on him, he had to reward you somehow for your good behavior.
Bang came up to your face and looked tenderly into your eyes.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly and gently.
You looked into his eyes and then at his full lips in a second and, without even answering him, you joined your lips with his; you found it incredibly tender and ironic how he could ask you such a thing when he had literally seen and touched your pussy just a few minutes ago, plus you looked so docile and submissive, it was clear that you were willing to whatever he wanted to do with you right now, you were so vulnerable. Chris took your face with his left hand which was slightly clean of your fluids, trying not to let his fingers fall completely on your face and gently pulled you away from his lips for your impulsive action, he gave you small sweet sounding kisses, feeling every particle of your organ, enjoying every second as he always dreamed of feeling them and then he kissed you passionately, so intense and united that you felt the pressure of his nose on your face, and made you open your mouth wider to boldly explore your cavity, and feeling your tongue, managing to elicit from both of you heavier gasps and breaths. With his right hand he caressed your neck a little and moved it down to your breasts and nipples, you were so excited and sensitive that you were afraid of cumming at any moment. His nimble hand continued down to caress your pussy again, this time making you moan between the intimate act you were both sharing and leaving you breathless, so he pulled away from you, now moving his mouth caresses down your neck to your sensitive tits, kissing, licking and sucking them delicately while his left hand was in charge of feeling the other one. His hot kisses moved down with his hand, as he kissed your abdomen, his hand squeezed your waist and his grip stopped at your left thigh, until his lips reached your mons pubis where he finally pulled away from you a little after kissing you gently.
Chris happily watched your expression of pleasure, your eyebrows down and your slightly open mouth; his thumb took care of stimulating the sensitive spot of your clitoris as he gently rubbed, once again, along your labia and without warning and with agility, he inserted two of his long digits that you had previously allowed, into your tight entrance, to which you whimpered in shock and pleasure.
Chris could take no more, his cock throbbed more and more with increasing intensity, but he had to hold out a little longer, as he knew that female pleasure could last longer and had to be carefully worked into it. He skillfully fucked your insides, exploring and feeling his fingers slide into the softness of your walls as you gasped with pleasure, harder and harder.
“Shhh, just keep a little quiet, okay, babygirl? I won't stop and I'll keep making you feel good until you cum” he whispered to you.
You pressed your lips together and bit them hard, just emitting gasps full of air coming from the strength in your chest. He was right, you had forgotten all about it once he started touching you, there were people outside his office… and a large window next to you, yet you were on a second floor and between his large desk obstructing the view, you couldn't see clearly.
Chris continued to turn you on and take such good care of your pussy while his fingers were in you; you felt on cloud nine but every now and then you thought if he would let you taste his cock or if you would feel it inside you today, you needed him so bad, your pussy throbbed just thinking about it.
“One more finger, okay?” gasped Chris inserting his ring finger before you could even answer him.
You whimpered again trembling a little in pain, you wanted him to fuck you all at once, you felt incredibly tense and excited that you were no longer thinking straight, but Chris just wanted to get you ready before he was inside you.
“Fuck my fingers, babygirl, c'mon, move on them” he groaned, looking at his fingers stuck in your pussy, then looking at you while you felt his hot breath near your cunt.
You brought your left hand near your mouth trying not to moan so loudly and started to move your hips enjoying his fingers inside you.
“Fuck” you whispered excitedly feeling his bony fingers moving and touching your internal organ.
“Good girl, you're doing it so good, fucking my fingers so well, you're such a good girl, are you enjoying it, sweetie?”
You gasped in response unable to formulate words. Chris smiled proudly, bit his lower lip and inhaled air between his teeth watching the obscenity of his hand at your entrance and your sweet fluids escaping.
“Fuck, you're so fucking wet, look at you. I'm gonna make you feel so good babygirl, I'm gonna taste you” he warned you almost in a whimper.
With his free hand he positioned your tired legs on his broad strong shoulders, bringing his face close to your pussy and, leaning a little closer, he pulled out his thick hot tongue running it all over your wet vulva making you explode, closer and closer to your orgasm. Chris gently sucked on your labia and withdrew his fingers from your entrance splashing some of your liquid on his chin.
“Mmm you taste so fucking good, babygirl, what the fuck, so good” he whispered.
Suddenly Chris found himself lost deep in your pussy, he was so loaded of you and he was enjoying it too much, giving you off little vibrations as he tasted you with his hot 'mmh', making your legs tremble, you were so close to orgasm finally. He continued, placing little kisses on your clit and with the tip of his tongue stimulating you quickly in a series of motions, you were so desperate you didn't know where to rest your hands calmly, so you directed your right hand to his head, stroking his hair for the first time. Chris caught your gaze instantly as he felt your hand in his hair and he stared at you as he tasted your clitoris and with one finger gently penetrated your entrance.
You broke eye contact with him as you again felt his tongue and lips run down the length of your folds, you closed your eyes in pleasure and shook your head ready for your orgasm that was slowly contracting in your body. Bang continued, never leaving your sensitive spot once he withdrew his tongue of it, his fingers now caressing it as he was lost in the glorious slurping sound of his mouth in your pussy, until he reached your entrance, parting your folds for better access of his tongue, making you scream, he was eating you out so well you wanted to cry.
You couldn't hold it in any longer and finally released all the tension, climaxing in his mouth as you held back your gasp biting down hard on your lip. Chris pulled away and watched in detail your glistening fluids slide out and your hole throb, he smiled and took it upon himself to clean you, running his tongue one last time before standing up. Cleaning himself around his mouth too, licking his lips.
“I'm gonna fuck you, now, alright?” he moaned, his cock was still hard and needy and his precum droplets ached to come out as he was holding back his orgasm.
You saw his sex, so foreplayed and red; you began to get excited and lubricated yourself again by the obscenity of his cock. Chris accommodated your body, putting your head on the couch cushion and doing his best to make you very comfortable and positioned his body over you, he spread your legs a little more and you saw his tender but intimidating expression of concentration as he inserted his cock into your hole. Bang was a doctor with a specialty, he knew fucking well he was about to have unprotected sex, but he was so lost between desire that, feeling your insides with his fingers and tongue was not enough, his sensitive and swollen cock had to feel it on its own to check how good you feel, thus bare, he wanted all his discharge in you, your vagina unrecognizing his sperm and, he seeing it struggling to squirt the unknown cum, he wanted to fill you completely for being so good with him and studying so hard, you deserved it, finally a great break. And you, always so dedicated, were more than willing to feel Dr. Bang's raw cock inside you.
You gasped and shuddered as you felt his cock enter you, Bang gasped at the sensation of your hole slowly opening to make way for his cock, it was huge, you knew it and you were feeling it, but you still wanted every inch of him in you. Chris had inserted half of his hard limb and you were already gasping with pain and pleasure.
“God, you're so tight, so fucking tight, I want to fuck your pussy so bad” Chirs spluttered panting and excited, bringing out the vein in his neck and forehead.
And slowly, he entered into you fully until you felt his balls gently rubbing against your pussy, you let out a stifled little whimper, even inside you, you could feel his large size and you noticed him bulging in a soft lump in your belly. Chris began to slowly penetrate you, his whole cock inside you, thrusting his hips; you whimpered at the sensation and held yourself entwining your arms around his back still wearing his shirt, feeling the tingle of his tie as it fell and brushed against your chest. He moved his body closer, brought your foreheads together for a moment, staring at you as he kept ramming your pussy hard and sweetly kissed your lips, pulled away from you and positioned his head in the hollow of your neck, feeling and hearing his hot, light moans, turning you on more and, when you thought you were completely sexually satisfied, you felt his hand caress your clit, causing you to reflexively close your legs, squeezing his broad lower torso. Your pussy was so sensitive to every movement and stroke of Chris's cock, you felt his thrusts change a little as you were mindful of the sensation of his cock sliding through your core, you sighed, you were so stressed that you couldn't moan so loudly at the feel of his big dick. The sound of both wet sexes colliding was so obscene, both of you completely devoted to each other.
“You feel so good, fuck, y/n. Moan for me softly.”
Chris loved the feeling of your tight walls squeezing his cock, and your small orifice dilating adapting to his size, after minutes of the incredible sensation, Chris could feel your second climax close; but only this time he would 'punish' you, as he also fantasized about you fucking him yourself, he wanted to see you so overwhelmed jumping on his cock; so he suddenly pulled out of you causing a small mess of your fluids.
“I want you to fuck me babygirl, sit on my cock please” he asked you demanding but soft.
You bit your bottom lip as you watched Chris sit up, you stood up and, quickly Bang found the zipper of your skirt, unzipping it and making it fall gracefully, finally leaving you naked, which made him lick his lips lusting after you; you spread your legs and positioned yourself over his lap, you took his wide hard cock with your left hand to guide it to your entrance as you held onto his shoulder. Chris smiled admiring your flushed cheeks and your face of concentration, until you both gasped once feeling joined; first you slid his glans and then you let yourself fall completely on his cock, squeezing down to your cervix, you were one hundred percent sure that your poor vaginal canal was no match for Chris's cock length, who you looked at and also had a moaning expression on him, you admired again his closeness, every small and almost non-existent pore of his well-kept face and the roughness and manliness of the texture of his neck, you also wished to see him completely naked so you awkwardly played with his tie trying to take it off.
“Do you want to unbutton my shirt, sweetheart?” he said tenderly noticing your actions.
You nodded encouragingly, “Yes, Dr. Bang.”
Chris was turned on by you speaking to him formally, making his cock throb more of which you resented inside and let out a moan. He loosened his tie, tossed it aside and helped you unbutton his shirt faster, exposing his muscular, hard-working body.
“Move for me, ahh, that's right, good girl.”
You began to stir yourself on his cock, moving with it all the way to his testicles sweetly squeezed by your weight, as you held onto his marked pecs and gradually lifted your body to keep a rhythm to the frantic bouncing on his cock. You eagerly and between gasps felt his cock rise and fall up and down the tract inside you, trying to take it all, making you sweat a little from your exertion. Chris squeezed your waist tightly, helping to propel you forward.
“Oh that's it, fuck me, you're doing excellent, good girl, fuck, taking so well my cock” he whimpered as his eyes were fixed on your tits moving and his cock burying into your tight pussy.
His words turned you on more and encouraging you to keep going. Accelerating your squats more and more, causing Chris to widen his eyes in surprise, increasing the intensity of his heartbeat and suffocating his cock more.
“Fu-fuck, I-i'm gonna cum inside of you, I'm gonna fill your pussy like the good girl you are.”
Chris let go himself completely, he had held back his orgasm long enough so followed by shuddering whimpers, he ejaculated inside you, feeling his warm shot of cum; you were so close too, which he could predict so he continued to praise you softly.
“Keep it up, beautiful, cum on my cock, come on, you can do it.”
You buried your nails a little into his chest and cum, spilling your second orgasm down the length of his cock, making both of you a mess, your combined fluids slipping and sliding down his balls and lightly onto his thighs. You both tried to catch your breath. Chris remained holding you tightly around your waist so that you stayed right there and so on top of him, he didn't want to give up the feel of your core in him, he wanted a little of cockwarming in you.
“Wow… that” Chris tried to say, slowly coming back to his senses, realizing he had finally fucked you, reality suddenly hit him, you were still sitting on his cock and over his lap with your cheeks red and your babyhair slightly tousled and glistening in a minimal layer of sweat from your exertion, he let out his typical nervous chuckle, “…that was wonderful. You know… anytime you need help relaxing, we can do it whenever you want. Maybe next time you can do all the noise you want.”
You stared into his eyes perplexed that he had just implied that from now on, you could fuck anytime you wanted.
“But you'll leave tomorrow, right?” he spoke again.
You nodded disappointed, he was right, you had to go back to your hometown tomorrow; you sighed and hugged him gently, leaning your head on his shoulder, tired and breathing in his scent, thinking you didn't want to leave him, your summer would be boring anyway, you needed him, the feeling of his cock inside you, filling you up felt so good, you were going to miss him. You've never had your stress taken away like that before.
----
dividers by chilumitos ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡
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sttoru · 10 months ago
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. coming home from university has both stressed and tired you out — causing you to forget about satoru’s birthday. maybe your boyfriend could help you remember.
word count. 4.7k-ish
note. was supposed to come out on his (our) bday but writer’s block was ruthless :p hope you enjoy anyway x
tags. older bf!gojo satoru x sub!female reader. p.orn with plot. fluff to smut. age gap (reader 20 - early 20’s, satoru’s in his early 30’s). p in v -> unprotected, size difference, missionary, creampie, breast play, dirty talk, body worship, hickeys, praise, you f.uck in the kitchen, aftercare-ish, reader gets called ‘princess, sweetheart, baby, pretty.’ i present to you soft dom&older bf!gojo satoru. he’s absolutely smitten with you btw.
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“lookin’ tired, sweetheart.” satoru comments with a subtle grin as he welcomes you home. home being his apartment that you had basically moved into. why? because it was close to the university you attend.
and maybe because your lover had coaxed you into it.
you sigh, eyes half closed and glazed over. the stress of exams, assignments and whatnot has been too much for your brain, “yeah, i’m sorry. i probably look like absolute shi—”
a pair of lips were quick to shut your negative remark up. satoru pulls you closer to him by the small of your back. his fluffy bangs brush over his closed eyes, the hairs lightly grazing your forehead as well. he smells and tastes sweet. like those strawberry flavoured candies he always carries with him in his pockets.
a faint string of saliva hanging between your two mouths was all that’s left after the intense kiss. it snaps, causing the small bit of liquid to cling onto your bottom lip.
“what’d i say about apologising when you did absolutely nothing wrong?” satoru asks in a gentle and hushed tone. his thumb presses down on your bottom lip to get rid of the transparent trail of saliva. his gaze is soft and loving — like it always is when he looks at you.
that man had once again rendered you speechless. it’s the small things that make you fall for him over and over, “that—uhm—i shouldn’t apologise for something i don’t have any control over.”
satoru’s dimples show as he looks down at you fondly. a large hand settles on the top of your head, messing up your hair whilst his lips lock yours in for another kiss.
“exactly,” your lover nods in approval before grabbing your bag and placing it aside. he also helps you take off your coat and even bends down to undo your shoes for you.
you wonder how you’ve even managed to land such a man.
satoru’s long fingers work quick to undo the laces on your shoes. your tired eyes can’t help but steal a glance at the veins that run down his slender hands — up his forearms and. . .
“somethin’ on your mind, princess?” his voice calls out as he massages your feet for a split second to ease the accumulated tension from all the walking. you simply shake your head ‘no’, though satoru knows you better than you know yourself.
with a light-hearted chuckle, he raises to his full length and leads you through the hallway. his footsteps were light whilst yours were the exact opposite: heavy and exhausted.
maybe a shower or bath would help you refresh and relax. thus, that’s exactly what the sorcerer recommends;
“why don’t you go take a nice shower whilst i prepare you a hot meal, hm?” satoru comments and stops in his tracks right before the door to the bathroom. his gaze lingers on your pretty face—his hands never leaving your skin.
the idea of taking a shower did seem like the ideal solution to your problems at the moment, “okay i will, but err. . .”
your voice trails off as you look up at satoru. his knuckles run over your cheeks lovingly and his warm gaze tells you that he’s smitten with you. totally. utterly. he makes you so nervous without even realising it in the slightest.
“you don’t have to cook me something. i know work has been hard on you too.” you finish your sentence with an apologetic little smile. one that makes satoru want to squeeze your cheeks together.
you had always been a bit selfless and it’s an admirable trait, but your boyfriend also has this gnawing urge to take care of you in any way he can. maybe it’s because he’s a few years older than you and knows from experience how tough things could get at your age.
satoru smirks and pokes your sides playfully, “don’t you worry your pretty little head ‘bout that. now let’s get you in that shower.”
a little yelp leaves your throat as you feel yourself get hoisted over his shoulder. the white-haired sorcerer opens the door with one hand, the other protectively placed on your waist to keep you from falling.
he settles you back on your feet in the middle of the room—eyes now filled with a playful glint. you could probably already guess the next words that leave his mouth.
“need help undressing? i’ll gladly do it for you,” satoru laughs. you roll your eyes and teasingly shove him towards the door. he puts his hands in the air to show his surrender, though doesn’t miss the opportunity to look you over one last time.
you’re like the embodiment of beauty even when your eyes have lost their usual spark. even if you barely have any energy left to do anything. he loves every side of you, no matter what.
resisting the urge to pull you into his arms for the nth time, your boyfriend eventually leaves you be and closes the door as he steps out. his mind, however, was still overly full with thoughts of you.
“ah, what a woman.” satoru mutters in pure amazement under his breath after departing from the bathroom. there’s a visible spring in his step as he walks to the kitchen—happy to take care of his girl.
. . .
you finish your much needed bath after about half an hour. you look in the bathroom mirror whilst wrapping a simple white towel around your torso. the bath sure did help to clear your mind, though there’s still one thing bothering you. something you’ve forgotten.
you can’t really put your finger on it, but it must have been something important. there’s an iffy feeling in your chest as you walk out of the bathroom — instantly heading towards the kitchen. surely, satoru could help you remember it.
“toru,” you call out before stepping into the kitchen. your lover is standing at the counter, his back towards you and his hands working fast to chop up some vegetables. the many pans and stoves scattered around the area only further prove his determination to prepare you a nice hot meal.
“yeah, princ— oh.” satoru eventually turns his head, looking over his shoulder to see you standing a few steps behind him. he couldn’t believe his luck; to have his gorgeous, gorgeous girlfriend in his apartment was one thing—but having his girlfriend in front of him with only a towel on was another thing. the remaining waterdroplets running down your skin made you all the more attractive.
he grins as he puts the knife down and quickly dries his hands. he couldn’t wait to put his hands on your body, “c’mere, pretty.”
you grunt the moment satoru envelopes you into a tight hug with your face squished into his chest. he nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head—over dramatically acting as if he hasn’t seen you for days.
his hands teasingly find their way under the material of the towel. the tips of his fingers are cold in comparison to your warm and damp skin. he drags the pad of his thumb up and down the curve of your ass; sighing in content as he feels the plush flesh.
“perv.” you mutter under your breath, though can’t deny that the light touch makes you putty in his hands. satoru responds with his usual ‘only when it comes to you’ comment before pulling away to take in your embarrassed expression. he lives for those physical reactions you have to his advances.
you slightly turn your head to the right, purposely avoiding his gaze. you face the door of the fridge that you stood in front of. your eyes fall onto the sticky notes. there’s one standing out from all the others.
you had placed it on there a few weeks ago so you wouldn’t accidentally forget that oh-so-important date.
turns out you did just that.
your face drops and you instantly go into panic mode. how could you fail to recall that today is satoru’s birthday? you don’t even know how to explain yourself. no amount of excuses would ever make this right. or so you thought.
satoru is an attentive lover; he is aware of almost everything that’s going on in your head. perhaps he is good at reading minds. or perhaps it’s just that your body language and facial expressions disclose everything he needs to know about your current mood.
“hey, i’m not upset.” satoru breathes out, eyes closed as he slides ticklish kisses down your neck. it is a sign of reassurance; he doesn’t want you to conclude that he’s angry with you for forgetting such a thing. besides, he understands that being an university student is a struggle by itself, “having you here with me at the end of the day ‘s all that matters to me, okay?”
you sigh, both in frustration and content. you’re frustrated with yourself for being too caught up with your studies, though you’re also appreciative for satoru’s empathy and lenience. he is so kind and mature; always optimistic about everything. your mindset is the opposite of his. your age gap sure did explain those cognitive differences.
despite satoru’s consolation, you still feel like you owe him something. you tilt your head back so you’re able to look him in the eyes. you give him the cutest pout ever and that man is—once again—feeling light-headed. satoru can’t decide whether to continue consoling you or to tease you about forgetting his birthday.
you are adorable when you sulk.
“i’m still.. well, sorry.” you sniffle, cuddling up to your lover to show your genuine remorse, “i know that you wouldn’t ever forget about my birthday - no matter how busy you might. . . .”
blahblahblah. you are babbling on and on about how inappropriate it is of you to forget his birthday, but satoru is hearing none of that.
his coherent thoughts shut down the moment he felt your tits press up against his chest. it is meant as an innocent hug on your part, however apparently couldn’t be interpreted as one.
your visible cleavage and the way the towel is doing a bad job at hiding the volume of your breasts increases the lewd thoughts gathering in his mind. there is no way that he can survive any more physical contact between you two without taking some action.
“..so, i was thinking that i could make it up to you somehow.” you conclude at one point in the conversation. satoru’s body subtly jolts as he snaps out of his dazed state.
he gives you a sheepish smile and tries to play it off by continuing the conversation, “make it up to me, huh?”
you nod in response and give him your best puppy eyes. your lover sighs in defeat; satoru couldn’t keep his emotions and carnal desires in check anymore. his hands are twitching, aching and longing to touch you all over.
the rational part of his mind told him to continue comforting you. to tell you that there was no need to compensate for failing to remember his birthday. the lust-driven part of him craves to take you up on the offer and give a different and more sexual twist to it.
satoru takes a deep breath and puts some distance between you two. not because he is annoyed or irritated by your behaviour, but because he might lose control of himself.
you can’t guess the intentions behind your lover’s actions, thus confusion follows; “satoru? you okay?”
maybe he actually is displeased by your lack of remembrance—deep, deep inside. you bite your lip anxiously, reaching your hand out to hold satoru’s in attempt to try and get him to look at you. his vision is obstructed by his own bangs, a dark shadow casted over his eyes, one that prevents you from gauging his mood.
you feel a light electric shock go through your body the instant your fingers curled around his hand. your boyfriend’s body stiffens and it’s like time stilled.
“fuck, i tried.” satoru mutters under his breath.
then, before you knew what was happening, you’re pinned to the door of the fridge. there are efforts made to articulate proper words, but the shock has overtaken all your senses. it isn’t like you could speak either—your lips are sealed shut by your lover’s.
his hands didn’t waste a single second now that they have free rein. they fondle you everywhere; from cupping your cheeks, to sliding down your neck and lower. his fingers rub up against the area where your nipples would be, sensually stroking them through the towel. his feverish kisses combined with his constant touches make you shiver in exhilaration.
you’re trying to keep up with his sudden burst of lust and that’s adorable to the white-haired sorcerer. he can feel you struggling to keep yourself balanced on your toes, your arms wrap tightly around his neck so you’d be inseparable. you feel him grin against your lips for a split second—the gesture alerting you of what might be coming.
“mmh,” satoru grunts once he frees your bare body from its confines. he finally breaks the kiss—the sole reason being to admire the sight of you.
it feels like he just unveiled a heavenly painting. his eyes don’t know what to focus on. if he is to properly and completely appreciate your nude body, it’d take him days or even weeks, “god, have i ever told you how lucky i am to be yours?”
your heart stutters in your chest as all attention is on you. the gentle yet hungry touch of your lover, his hands caressing everywhere they can reach and his half-lidded eyes that are focused on your most intimate parts—you don’t know how much more you can take.
satoru’s breathing becomes even heavier than it was moments ago. he leans his head down to your level, lips hovering above the space between your neck and shoulder. his mouth latches onto your skin after taking a moment to try and keep himself from rushing into things. but alas, he is a simple man.
his lips work precisely and diligently to leave hickeys on every inch. his teeth gently sink into your flesh here and there, his warm saliva coating the faint markings left. your body is his canvas for tonight and the many other nights that are yet to come — for as long as you give him permission to.
“ngh— t.. toru,” you stammer, almost squealing. the sloppy kisses left on your sensitive skin resulted in you whining for more. satoru feels a rush of satisfaction like no other; the frequency of his touches only increasing with each sound erupting from your throat. his tongue slides over your plump breasts, his fingers flicking the nipple he isn’t sucking on.
he eventually detaches from your tits, leaving them both covered in his saliva. he hums in delight at the erotic view and gives both your breasts a last kiss. satoru looks up into your eyes again—a sense of want in them, “you look like you have somethin’ to say, baby.”
you do, but, don’t know how to bring the message across. it is embarrassing to say all of your thoughts out loud; all that you actually want him to do that you. you know satoru would love it if you do, however you do not have the guts to.
your body does all the talking anyway. there is a pool of slick forming between your thighs, your bodily fluids showing just how aroused you are. you aren’t the only one in that state; satoru has had a raging hard-on the entire time.
“i want you,” there it goes.
you avert your eyes, though not for long. gentle fingers hold your chin up, forcing you to stare at your lover. his face is intensely close and your heart is in your throat. satoru grins at your shy behaviour, finding it all the more endearing.
“awh, my little princess wants me?” he pouts, almost mockingly if you didn’t know better. his gaze flickers downwards, “where d’ya want me? show me, baby.”
if you aren’t embarrassed already, you’d sure be now. satoru’s teasing words and the sultry tone of voice he uses eventually urges you to comply. your shaky fingers wrap around his wrist, bringing his hand down towards your tingling cunt, “here.”
the older man hisses at the direct contact his hand makes with your pussy. it is so wet and ready — he wanted nothing more than to bury his fat cock between your folds and feel your sweet little cunt cling onto it.
he cups your cunt delicately, grazing his thumb against your clit. he traces faint circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves to make you squirm and whimper in pleasure. his other fingers spread your folds apart so he can collect your wetness on them.
“how naughty,” satoru sighs. his index finger prods at your entrance, but your thighs clamp down around his hand before he’s able to push it in.
he snickers in amusement and retracts his hand. he licks your juices off of his long fingers in a painfully slow manner, “well.. who am i to deny you? what the princess says, goes.”
satoru lifts your body up in his arms, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist. he kisses you passionately again—his tongue swirling around yours. you exchange soft moans as your hands lift his shirt up and over his head.
you cut the kiss short to appreciate the sight of your lover’s well-built upper body. that drives him utterly insane. that look you give him.
satoru curses under his breath and pulls you down onto the carpet below. he carefully places you on your back and—once you are settled—instantly rushes to undo his grey sweatpants.
his eyes are darting from his clothes to your naked body under him. god, he wants to fuck you so bad. the view of you spread out and patiently waiting for him to take you had him weak in the knees. it’s a sinful scene, yet the pleading and almost innocent-like look in your eyes is a complete contrast.
“don’t worry, i’ll give it to you in a second, baby.” satoru grins once he pulls his boxers down to his knees—revealing his hardened cock. he strokes it slowly and the pre-cum drips down the shaft, his thumb smearing the droplets all over his pink tip.
after getting a couple strokes in, he grabs the base of his dick and guides it to your wet cunt. satoru rubs his tip up and down your slit. what he didn’t expect is for his cockhead to slide into you so easily. he didn’t even have to put in the slightest of effort.
your back arches due to the feeling and your nails dig into the carpet below you. the mixture of your slick and his pre-cum is all the lubricant you need.
“shit. seems like she doesn’t wanna let go any time soon.” satoru addresses your cunt with a groan whilst he slips his fat cock deeper into you. his eyes roll back as he feels the warmth of your pussy engulfing him, “. . .not like i was planning to leave her empty anyway.”
you moan and shiver at both satoru’s dirty words and his dick that’s currently stuffing your insides full. your mouth hangs open, your eyes remain shut and your brain takes in all the granted sensations. adjusting to his lengthy size takes you a few seconds and when you gave your boyfriend permission to continue— that’s exactly what he does.
his hips thrust in an almost hypnotising rhythm: back and forth, back and forth. every interval between the firm movements is the exact same. the thing that differs and makes the experience all the better, is the difference in strength behind each thrust.
one moment he’s carefully sliding in and out of your sopping cunt and in the next he’s forcefully slamming his cock all the way in and out. satoru stifles his moans by attaching his lips to yours—capturing them in a sloppy, rough kiss.
“satoru—satoru, ah, please.. right there,” you mewl into his mouth. his tongue finds yours and your salivas mix.
your lover answers your pleas by holding onto your hand, your fingers interlocking with his thumb soothingly rubbing your skin. satoru never fails to make you feel loved during intimate acts like these. no matter how filthy, nasty and rough he’s fucking you.
you arch your back and your chest presses against satoru’s, causing him to groan against your lips. a cocky grin appears on his face after he moves his head to the crook of your neck. he leaves a couple hickeys along the area of your throat—his hips not giving you a break. even as you continuously whimper and look like you’re about to lose your mind from pleasure.
that’s what satoru wants; to have you come undone beneath him. it’s the most beautiful thing in the world to him. others may call it perverted, but the older man always aims to make you reach as many orgasms as you can in one night. it fuels his carnal desires to see you convulse and shake after every intense climax.
his baby feeling good is all he wants to achieve.
“mhm, i know, princess. i know.” satoru breathes out and returns his lips to yours. he can’t go on long without tasting you. you’re like a drug he’s addicted to. every reaction—small or big—gets him going, “take it easy—fuck, you can do that f’me."
you reply with incoherent noises of agreement. there’s not a thought going on behind those watery eyes of yours. that much is obvious to your boyfriend.
your legs lock his cock inside of you by wrapping around his hips. your eyes are glazed over; a cockdrunk look. one that would make any man cum on spot.
“princess, wait,” satoru whines. he can’t stop himself, yet he’s telling you to wait. his body refuses to come to a halt as it strives towards a satisfying orgasm. he can feel it, his balls tightening and ready to spill everything they have, “if you continue looking at me like that, ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum.”
he isn’t lying. you’re nearly driving him over the edge with everything you do. your legs that tighten their grip around his hips in fear of him pulling out is his favorite thing to experience. it’s like you’re desperate to continue.
your hands play with his sweaty body, fingers caressing his hard chest to feel his heartbeat. you’re drooling. your head is spinning as you think of your lover claiming you. fucking his precious cum into you, “inside—want it inside. all of it.”
satoru chokes on his spit. you don’t know what you do to him. muttering such erotic words causes the older man to malfunction every time. without fail. his hips are painfully ramming against yours.
“you sure? ah, shit.” satoru curses. his brows are furrowed, his hands holding you by your jaw. the view of you with your head tilted back and your teary eyes looking straight into his is pure perfection, “can’t deny you when you look so hot begging me to cum inside your greedy little pussy.”
the room is spinning. your nails claw into satoru’s back, leaving faint red marks on his pale skin. you shudder the instant he slides out of you until all that’s left is his pink tip prodding at your entrance.
it’s like he gets off on it. to see you whimper, quiver and struggle to contain your pleas for permission to cum. your boyfriend drags his tip up and down your slit, tapping it against your clit repeatedly.
“cum f’me, baby.” satoru coos. he knows you’re right on the edge. before you can reply, he shoves his cock back inside your spasming cunt—ruthlessly pounding you until you scream his name.
your eyes roll back and all you can do is hold your breath the moment the intense orgasm washes over you. your hips buck, your legs tremble and your pussy gushes all over his cock.
spurts of clear liquid cover satoru’s thighs. you squirting isn’t something he had expected to see, but it is a pleasant surprise regardless. it all gets too much for your lover and it drives him to his own climax as well.
satoru hugs you tightly to him. your chests press together with one of his arms holding your upper body up—his nose buried into your hair. a muffled grunt escapes his mouth and that’s when you know that he's reaching his finish.
“please—take it, take it, take it,” satoru stutters and stammers. he can’t form any proper words the moment his cock twitches and releases a huge load of sperm into your womb. it’s an overwhelming amount; globs of transculent white liquid ooze out from between your folds.
his sticky cum slides down to your asshole and onto the carpet, staining it. satoru bites his bottom lip whilst his body is still recovering, cock going soft once he pulls it out. he doesn’t know what to do or where to look, yet somehow his gaze always darts back to your dripping cunt.
“fuck. . . that’s hot.” the older man takes in a deep breath. it’s too soon to get hard again, he figures. the way you’re still trembling and struggling to catch your breath tells him enough. you need a break. and a well-deserved one it is.
your weak taps against satoru’s shoulder snaps him out of his dazed state. he takes your hand in his and gently squeezes before helping you into a sitting position. his blue eyes flash with worry,
“hey, hey, baby—you okay?” satoru asks. his voice is raspy, though obviously filled with concern. he rubs your back and encourages you to take deep breaths. small kisses to your temples help calm you down too.
your breathing eventually returns to normal. you chuckle tiredly and lean your head against his shoulder. your attentive lover wipes the saliva from the corners of your lips and does the same with the tears around your eyes. you sniff, “y-yeah. just felt amazing, hehe.”
satoru sighs in relief. he was scared that he hurt you somehow. your confession makes him laugh and squeeze your body against his. he cups your face and kisses you twice out of pure adoration.
you’re always ten times more adorable to him after you’ve had sex.
“aw, glad it did.” satoru smiles, his dimples showing. your eyes glisten and you smile back out of reflex. you pucker your lips and your lover takes the hint. he presses his mouth against yours once more; this time playfully swiping his tongue over your bottom lip.
you pull back and teasingly swat his bicep. satoru tickles your side as a response. and that’s how you once again end on the floor, with a heavy weight pressing onto your front.
satoru nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and breathes in your scent. you’re the best thing to have happened to him. you, the love of his life.
“the best present i could have ever gotten.” the white-haired sorcerer mumbles to no one in particular. though, you heard it. faintly.
you rub his back. you’re sure you made it up to him. he’s clinging onto you, nearly suffocating you by laying on top of your smaller body, but you don’t mind. you play with his hair and your fingernails graze against his undercut to which satoru reacts with a low purr.
you’re happy. he’s happy. that’s all that matters;
“happy birthday, my love.”
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daintcas · 7 months ago
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breaking up with rafe cameron (it lasts a day) !
your phone was blowing up furiously with notifications you didn't have to look at to know who it was. another text from your recently self-proclaimed ex-boyfriend pinged again.
'Where are you'
'Answer me.'
'I'm coming to your house'
'We're going to talk about this'
swiping off the messages from your lock screen and angrily flipping over your phone, you sat up in bed where you'd been sulking and threw off the covers.
he'd really hurt your feelings this time, off and gone doing god knows what (selling w barry) for days, usually without a single text. when you did finally get to see him, he had the audacity to be tense and mean towards you.
everyone knows about rafe's short temper, but you're the one who had to deal with it. after so much of letting him take it out on you - especially recently - and not having a spare second to love on your boyfriend, you'd had enough and stopped hanging around his house. shortly after, ending it through a single text.
the sound of his truck swerving into your driveway had you furrowing your brows and pouting, stomping down the stairs to lock the front door. as you reach out the twist the knob, it swings open and you're left stumbling back.
his mere presence towering over you wipes your confidence to say anything. forcing himself inside, he shuts the door behind him and inches closer to you - like a predator to their prey.
"you gonna explain, or what?" he asks, tauntingly slow as he looks down at you and your glossy eyes, trying to contain his anger.
"we're done, rafe. that's what," you push out, though admittedly failing at trying to stand your ground. with him here in front of you, what could you possibly have been so upset about? your memory fails you the longer you keep his intense gaze.
he scoffs and shakes his head, exhaling sharply through his nose to physically release his rage - though his jaw is still firmly clenched. "that's fuckin' rich."
"i'm serious. you're— you're never here. i'm all by myself at your house all the time. i just.. it's so lonely." after finally finding your words and letting them out, the both of you seem to relax a bit.
"baby, i— listen, i'm workin' a business now, okay? i got my own money, i'm.. providing. for you." he explains in a hurry, trying to hide how desperately he needs you back.
"i don't need any of that, rafe. i just want to be around you." your voice starts to trail off towards the end, partly because of the vulnerability but mostly because of his possible reaction.
as he runs his hands over his face to ease the tension between his brows, he lets out a sigh and stays silent for a moment.
"don't fucking scare me like that. you can just tell me this shit, don't have to go starting a bunch of nonsense." the words are followed by his hands dropping to his side, looking down at you more hurt than mad.
it has your heart melting and your head nodding before looking down, letting out a bold but harmless mumble. "still mad at you though.."
the arm hooking around the back of your neck tugs you into his chest, free hand messily working through your hair to pull you firmer against him. his lips plant possessively on the crown of your head before murmuring, "jesus christ."
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gojoest · 5 months ago
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ENTANGLED ━━━ chapter one
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pairing: gojo satoru x zenin f! reader
series masterlist┊next chapter
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synopsis: you — the daughter of zenin naobito (the head of the zenin clan), born with no cursed energy and therefore deemed to be the disgrace of the clan — have only one dream. to escape from your own blood that’s rejected you ever since birth, even if it means you have to dirty your hands in the process. when simply running away is not an option, for they would indubitably find you and drag you back for worse, you find your getaway in the arms of an enemy clan  
warnings: MDNI, canon divergent, non-linear narrative (a lot of jumping back and forth between past & present, it’s indicated accordingly), female reader, she/her pronouns, reader is a zenin born without cursed energy, discrimination, abuse and bullying during childhood (she gets the toji treatment :/), brief mention of direct maternal death (regarding reader’s mother), childhood friends that fall out but come together, marriage of convenience (but with a twist), eloping, pining, kind of slow burn ngl, ijichi, shoko, geto, naoya + naobito cameo, mentions of food and alcohol, terms of endearment (calls you miss zenin, bride-o-mine, then mrs gojo later on + sweetheart <- so do you but with a lot of sarcasm behind it), sexual tension, male masturbation, although it’s left vague there’s some elements of incestuous behaviors on naoya’s end, wc: 9.3k
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chapter one guideline & timeline:
I. The News — takes place in the present time.
II. The Proposal — two weeks prior to The News.
III. Sealing The Deal — two days after The News.
IV. The Past — flashback to the past, mainly from reader’s pov. this part is to be continued in chapter two, from satoru’s pov.
V. The First Night — after Sealing The Deal.
VI. Bad Faith — the day after The First Night.
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The News 
Nobody could ever predict what Gojo Satoru was up to, except for one specific behavioral aspect of his — those who’ve spent a fair amount of time around him could easily figure that whatever it was on that man’s mind, it was, without any doubt, unorthodox and crazy. 
Yet every now and then, Gojo Satoru managed to outdo himself and exceed even their wildest expectations. This time — by dropping a bomb nobody saw coming, especially not from him.  
“Gojo-san, there’s an upcoming mission assigned to your students, and you are to supervise them throughout it”, Ijichi hands a document regarding the occasion, but his arms hang in the air as the blindfolded man is absorbed in a rather peculiar activity, patently unwilling to receive the papers. 
“Eeeh”, Satoru drags out a displeased whine, without even bothering to look at Ijichi. Currently seated and mindlessly spinning around in a swivel chair that he rummaged out earlier that day from one of the storage units in Jujutsu High and dragged into the classroom for god knows why. His entire attention focused on keeping his long legs up in the air as he spins as fast as he can without possibly breaking the chair, but still, he shows some semblance of interest. “When? Where? What’s it about?”, the words spoken in slow monotone. 
If you look at the papers, you might know the answer to all these, Gojo-san. Ijichi thinks to himself but, of course, doesn’t dare say it out loud. “It’s in two days from now, the location is—” 
“Stop right there”, Satoru cuts him off, ceasing his childish ministrations with his feet landing a heavy stomp on the floor. He slowly gets up. “In two days?”, he rubs his chin, thinking, “I am afraid, I can’t. I am getting married then” 
Of course, you are. Ijichi thinks in an internal monologue. 
“With all due respect, Gojo-san”, he clears his throat to push back the laughter that’s about to climb up and out his throat. “You could’ve come up with a better excuse than this to, umm—”, after fixing his glasses, he continues, “—ditch your duties” 
“That was not an excuse, Ijichi, nor was it a joke. I can’t believe you think so lowly of me as a teacher”  
For a second there, the evident seriousness in his voice sends a shiver down Ijichi’s spine, which, to be honest, is not entirely caused by the way Gojo spoke to him, but also what he spoke of just now.  “I really am getting married”, he repeats. 
“Oh?”, Ijichi’s eyes widen, unable to utter another word other than an exclamation while processing the credibility of his words. This man is not joking? This man, of all men, is getting married? For real? 
“To be more precise — in two days from now, I will be busy kidnapping this bride-o-mine” 
“Oh?!”, still speechless, another gasp leaves Ijishi’s mouth. “You’re eloping?”  
“That is correct, ten points for you Ijichi!”, Satoru claps his hands. “Keep this a secret for the time being. I know it's a matter of time for everyone to know, but I'd rather they found out after it’s official since prying eyes might get in our way and spoil our plans. Got it?” 
Ijichi only nods in return. 
“Good. As for the mission — let Nanami handle it in my stead, the students will be fine as long as he’s with them” 
After Satoru left, excusing himself with a “oh, so many things to do before the big day, you know?” spoken with his trademark silly chuckle, Ijichi stood there in the empty classroom for a while, frozen. Shocked to his core still, but now also curious. Who was that woman to make Gojo Satoru want to marry her? 
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The Proposal 
(two weeks ago) 
“To say I was surprised to get a call from you would be an understatement, Miss Zenin”, Satoru grinned at you, taking off his sunglasses immediately upon your arrival and placing them on the table. 
It’s not that you were late — he was simply early, something quite bizarre for him honestly. Already ordered drinks for the both of you and waiting for you to show up with his legs crossed and fingers nervously tapping on the table — again, being nervous was something quite unusual for him as well. 
“And to ask me to meet you here of all places—”, he sprawled out on the chair, leaning his back against the wooden splat, his long legs reaching the other side of the table from beneath and pushing the chair there with his feet to invite you to sit. He was being a gentleman in his own way, to which you rolled your eyes but made no remark. “Are you going to ask me to kill someone for you?”, a mocking chuckle escaped his lips after he finished his sentence. 
“Not necessarily”, you replied, unamused.  
The day before, you called him. Asking to meet you here, in this secluded spot disguised as a cafe which regular people avoided, since it was a place swarmed by dangerous individuals and illegal activities. Drugs, kidnapping, assassination — whatever shady dealing you could think of. It had to be this place, after all there was no way for a Zenin to meet a Gojo out in the open, considering the bad blood between the two clans since generations ago. Especially not the daughter of Zenin Naobito, the clan head, and Gojo Satoru, the pride and leader of the Gojo clan. It would’ve caused consequences, for you at least. 
“You’ve got some balls to come here alone though, I must admit. As intriguing as always”, Satoru scoffed. “I don’t remember the last time I sat this close to you. Not since we were kids”, his lips slightly curved into a nostalgic smile as he reminisced about old times. “Now you avoid me anywhere you see me, like I’m some sort of disease”, and the smile shifted back to a regular one, although you could tell it was forced, just to keep his usual nonchalant appearance. “Not that we meet outside of clans’ gatherings, but still—” 
“Can we skip the yapping and cut to the chase? I don’t have much time”, you interrupted. “Sure, Miss Zenin”, he shot back. 
Miss Zenin. The way he called you that annoyed you abysmally, and that probably was his intention all along. But you had to ignore it for now, you really didn’t have much time on your hands — you had to go back home before anyone would notice you weren’t around. 
“I have a favor to ask, actually — it’s more of a proposal” 
 “Listening”, his head tilting to the side, eyes locked on your lips, awaiting the words. 
“Will you marry me?” 
Silence. 
It took him a few seconds before he could speak, pondering in his head whether he heard you right. Eventually the only word he could utter was “What?”, to which you said nothing. You figured it was best to give him some time to process the information.  
“What’s the catch?”, he spoke again, eyes now squinting. 
“Glad you asked”, you gave him a knowing smile. 
“Of course. I would say it’s a joke but no way you’d call me out of the blue just to pull my leg” 
“True, it isn’t a joke” 
“I believe it’s not out of love either? Unless... I am wrong? Have you been harboring such strong feelings towards me all these years?”, his tone slowly transitioning back into mocking after the initial shock had faded. 
Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “You wish. See, that would only happen in your dreams” 
Laughing, he slowly shifted in his seat. Leaning his body forward to rest an elbow on the table and press a cheek against his palm, his other hand playing with the straw of his drink. “So, you want out of the clan, huh? And finally have the courage to do it” 
“You figured?” 
“Well, I grasp things quickly. Considering how the Zenins treat women and especially those born without cursed energy, like yourself, this wasn’t hard to predict. But I am surprised by the choice of your method” 
“And I am surprised you didn’t cut me out by now since this was a shot in the dark”, you eyed him, baffled but pleasantly. 
“Let’s say I am intrigued by your proposal, which turned out to be quite unromantic, but I'll look past it”, a mystifying grin splattered on his lips. "Also, as you already know, there’s a Zenin or two I am willing to help”, he laughed. “So, tell me — what’s in that beautiful head of yours?” 
"Well, as you already guessed — I want to leave the clan. Being a Zenin is not for me, never has been. I’ve been treated like an abomination all my life, looked down upon like I barely fit the criteria to be human in their eyes just because I was not gifted with abilities, and I am done with it”, you paused, trying to hold back the cracking of your voice. All the years of mistreatment washing over you as you spoke. You took a deep breath, “Simply running away is not an option, they will find me and drag me back for worse. You know it. But if you help me—” 
“—their hands will be tied”, he finished your sentence.  
You nodded. “They can’t go against you. Well, there might be a slight commotion, namely coming from my brother, Naoya. But he won’t do anything brash without father’s approval” 
“That lousy brat? I didn’t know the two of you were so close”, Satoru lifted an eyebrow, a bit bothered by this. 
“We’re not, but it’s complicated” 
He got the message — you did not wish to talk about it. And he’d let it slide. For now. “And you think you’ll be free once you become a Gojo?” 
“Not immediately, but eventually — yes. I don’t plan on staying by your side until death do us part, you know” 
“What an eventful meeting this turned out to be — first I get a marriage proposal, and now a divorce, all at once”, he laughed, covering his eyes with a hand. Perhaps to hide something in them that didn’t quite align with his laughter. “What if I get attached and refuse to let you go?”, he spoke, with a tone more serious that it took you aback a bit. “Have you considered this?” 
“Are you a comedian now?”, you brushed it off. “We both know such thing won’t happen” 
“How come you’re so sure?” 
“It’s happened before, you know it” 
“We were kids back then”, he smiled softly, with a sprinkle of regret on his lips. “We used to sneak out to spend time together, but things are different now” 
“But you stopped coming” 
“My training got more intense, didn’t have time for games anymore” 
“You bet. I know you did it to keep me out of trouble. You were aware I was getting scolded and punished for meeting you” 
“Oh?”, he gasped. “You knew?”, a powerless laughter followed the realization that all these years you didn’t just avoid him out of spite. Part of him felt at ease about it, that you always understood him, even without words. Just like back then. Maybe because you were both a mutation of a different breed — a special boy put on a pedestal by many, a monster if you will; and a nonspecial girl looked down upon by her own blood as a disappointment, barely a human — yet the loneliness you carried weighed the same on your hearts. 
“Yea”, you sighed. “Back then you did it to keep me out of trouble, now you’ll do it to get me out of one. When the time comes, we’ll separate but keep it a secret. If my clan finds out, they won’t let it slide. I’ll show up for gatherings every now and then, to dodge any possible suspicions, but that’s all. Treat this like a deal” 
“That’s all good, but deals require an equivalent exchange so both parties benefit from it. You get your freedom. But what about me — what do I get in return?” 
Your lips curved into a scarce smile, delighted that he was willing to negotiate. This could actually work, you thought. “Well, it’s not like your family will be very pleased to have me but still. The most important thing is, you won’t ever have to deal with the blind dates your clan sets you up on, with an arranged marriage in mind. I bet they’re nagging you about it constantly since you’re pretty much of age now” 
“What my clan is concerned about is an heir, marriage is just a stepping stone. How will this temporary thing between us do that? Temporary and fake on top of that?”, he questioned through a scorn. 
“I’ll give you a child”, you shot at him in a heartbeat, voice unwavering. This was part of the plan after all. 
“What?”, he laughed, tilting his head in pure astonishment at your offer. 
“We will lead a normal married life, like a proper wife and husband. I’ll have your child, this secures me even better. That way I’ll be tied to the Gojo clan forever, not the Zenin” 
“You’re aware what we need to do in order for you to have my child, right?” 
You were, but when he put it like that your face got hot against your will, heat burning your cheeks and sizzling on your ears. “I am”, you mumbled, unable to look him in the face. Petrified to meet his gaze. 
“You really are insane”, he covered his face with both hands. Perhaps he was petrified, too. 
“Coming from you that’s rather concerning. Now back to the point — you up for it?” 
“Alright. Let’s do it” 
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Sealing The Deal 
(back to present) 
For the past two days Satoru pulled all the strings possible in order to speed up the marriage procedure. He diligently prepared all the needed documents to officially register your matrimony. All that was left was to go to the ward office and submit the marriage application after signing it along with two witnesses. 
With that, today would mark your last day as a Zenin. 
“Do you know who the girl is?”, Shoko asks, leaning against the wall in the ward office hallways, waiting for Satoru and the mystery bride to arrive. 
Geto shrugs from next to her, “Nope, no clue. Still trying to wrap my head around the fact that this is happening — he is actually getting married” 
“You of all people didn’t know he was involved with someone?”, she scoffs, turning her head in his direction. “Strange, maybe he was hiding the love of his life from you so you wouldn’t snatch her away” 
“He wasn’t involved with anyone, if he was — we both would’ve known. Besides, what do you mean by that? I would never break the bro code, come on” 
A semblance of a lazy laugh slips through Shoko’s lips. One can tell she didn’t get much sleep (again) by how lethargic and unenthusiastic her reactions were. “Girls end up falling for you always, so maybe he chickened out to introduce her” 
“That’s because he sucks with girls”, Geto snorts.  
Satoru wasn’t exactly the sweep-you-off-your-feet type of guy. His looks were bewitching, that was a given, and women would latch on him, only to give up shortly after. And all the reviews were unanimous — I want someone that will put me first, but with him — I don’t see it ever happening, his mind is elsewhere.  
“Maybe he finally caved in after years of his family pestering him to get married”, Shoko throws another guess. 
“Satoru caving in to an arranged marriage? Seriously, Shoko... Does he look like the type to listen to what elders tell him to do?” 
“He never looked like the marrying type either, yet here we are” 
“I don’t know”, Geto sighs heavily. “This is way too odd” 
“Hey, hey~”, Satoru’s voice echoes through the hallways. “Sorry to keep you waiting, my bride was barely able to sneak out from the Zenins. You know how the old farts there are” 
Hearing the name Zenin, Shoko and Geto glance at each other with the same perplexed look in their eyes. A Zenin? Sneaking out? 
Forcing a somewhat adequate smile, you shake their hands. You could tell they were taken aback after hearing your name, it was written all over their faces that they didn’t quite endorse this insane whim of Satoru’s. 
“Satoru, can I have a quick word with you”, Geto pulls him to the side after giving you a polite smile as a form of apology. 
“Are you eloping?”, he whispers, although quite audibly, “With a Zenin? Have you actually lost your mind, Satoru?” 
“Suguru”, Satoru lazily drapes an arm over Geto’s shoulder, “Yes to your first question, as for the second — have you ever seen me be normal about anything?”, he laughs. 
“Not the right time to humor your misery, Satoru”, Geto says through gritted teeth all while forcing a smile looking your way, to avoid any awkward impression on your end that the two of them were talking about you (even though that’s exactly what was going on). “There’s existent animosity between your clans already, are you trying to start an actual war all over again?”, he snaps, giving a sharp nudge to his side. 
“Ouch~”, Satoru yelps. “Come on, Suguru. What can they do to me?”, his words brimming with confidence compel Geto to rub the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Do you remember, that one time on the rooftop back when we were still students in Jujutsu High, I told you about a girl from my childhood?”, Satoru continues. 
Geto nods. He does remember it vividly, after all it was the first and last time Satoru has ever talked about a girl of his own accord and with so much passion behind his voice. 
“That’s her.” 
“It’s our turn”, Shoko interrupts. “Let’s go get you married” 
As you all entered the hall, Suguru gave Satoru a soft pat on the back and glanced over his shoulder at Shoko with a validating nod. 
Satoru got a pass from his moral compass. 
-- 
Signatures were inked, rings were exchanged, and vows were made to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part. 
It is said that vows are crucial in a marriage, they set the tone for your relationship going forward and serve as a ground to build your values on. Whatever values could be built on a soil soaked with lies, you thought to yourself as you all walked out. As soon as the ceremony was over Shoko rushed out to get the dose of nicotine her body was yearning for the entire time inside the ward office, leaving you three behind. 
There was nothing holy about your union, it was a lie to begin with. And, naturally, so were your vows. It shouldn’t bother you this much that you were to break the fake promises you just made to the man that handed you a one-way ticket to your freedom. 
“What’s with the face, Mrs. Gojo?”, Satoru softly pokes you in the arm, the unease in your expression doesn’t go unnoticed by him. “We just tied the knot, yet you look like you just walked out of a funeral” 
A funeral. Right. That’s how it felt to you. 
You buried yourself, your past, in there. You got what you wanted, but part of you was terrified of the new person you were to become. Mrs. Gojo, huh? You were not in the right headspace to be snarky about it now. 
“I’m fine. All these formalities are draining, that’s all” 
“Then we’ve got to recharge”, he grins, then turns around and shouts at Geto who’s walking a few steps behind and scrolling on his phone, “Suguruuu, let’s celebrate, shall we?” 
“Geez, you’re loud, Satoruuu”, he cracks an irked grimace, sticking a pinky finger into his ear. 
“There’s no need for that”, you whisper, tugging at the hem of his shirt.  
Satoru’s fingers trace over your knuckles, hesitant to get a proper hold of your hand, but he gives in anyway, “We have to pretend there is”, he speaks in a low voice, and wraps his hand around yours. “Besides, it’s lunchtime. We need to eat” 
You don’t resist, neither his touch nor his words.  
On your way to the restaurant that your (now) husband made a quick call to reserve a table for four, Satoru sat on the driver’s seat — a rare occasion, usually Ijichi drives him everywhere — glancing at you beside him on the passenger seat at every opportunity, studying your features and how much they’ve changed compared to his childhood memories of you. It’s not like he never saw you after that. But you’d never let him take a good long look at you, always running away the moment you noticed him around. Before he could know it, he was smiling, mouth agape — a soundless “ha” passing through the crack of his lips, the sunlight hitting his eyes, yet he couldn’t blink — he had to take you in. He was back to being a child at that moment, wearing his genuine feelings on his face without knowing how to mask them. And you... you were even prettier now. 
The two sitting on the backseat exchanged an astounded look after observing the scene unfolding before their eyes. Who would’ve guessed that their friend had such a hidden, soft spot for someone and could make such genuine faces? 
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The Past 
You were born with bad luck. 
That’s what you told yourself. And that’s what others, who felt sorry for you, thought so too. Mostly those unfortunate enough to be servants in the Zenin clan that have witnessed way too many things happen to you. 
First, you were born into the Zenin Clan as the daughter of Zenin Naobito, the leader — that alone was the biggest mishap the heavens bestowed you with. A problematic clan with questionable values, where owning powerful cursed techniques was held in highest regard and considered the measure of your worth as an individual and whether you were fit to be a Zenin. Rejecting, without an ounce of remorse, their own flesh and blood and looking down at them like inferior beings did they deem their ability weak and unworthy. 
With that being said, here comes the second — you were born into that clan, with no cursed energy. You didn’t make the cut ever since the beginning. The clan didn’t even mourn the fact you were lacking, they simply treated you indifferently, and sometimes with disgust, like you were one of the servants — easily replaceable. “It’s not enough that you were born a girl, but you are also lacking the gift. You were never meant to be part of this family to begin with, the name of Zenin will abandon you once you get married”, your grandmother would often tell you, right before throwing you into the disciplinary pit with curses. Till then, maybe through some miracle you could manifest some cursed energy if she locked you up there for long enough, so you could be at least a little bit useful. 
Wait. There’s a third, too — your mother lost her life giving birth to you. It’s not like you felt any guilt for that, you never knew what parental love was anyway, therefore didn't see it as a burden that weighed on your conscience. In fact, you were partly relieved that there was one person less to mistreat you there. 
Your older brother, Zenin Naoya, would often use this to harass you. Telling you “Maybe you’re not that hopeless after all, since you killed mother. Or maybe that’s even worse — she’s going to be your only kill” with that revolting laugh of his.  
Other kids looked down on you too, avoiding you like you carried some disease. There were rumors even, how childish, now what you think back — that if you came closer to them, you’d rid them of their powers and of their mothers too. Oddly enough, those rumors were started by none other than your brother. Perhaps he wanted to be the only one to pick on you. While he made every woman walk three paces behind him, he’d keep you close, telling you in a condescending manner “How am I to look down on you if you keep walking behind me, little lamb?” 
And you truly were a little lamb. Living and growing only to get the life in you eaten away by the Zenins. A sacrifice for no good. 
But the summer of your sixth year was different. 
You met a boy. 
He looked like winter in the middle of summer. Snow-white hair falling over his face and likewise lashes, sitting like tender snowflakes on his eyelids. The bluest blue in his eyes you had ever seen in your life, and if you stared long enough it’d throw you into a trance. 
There was a sense of loneliness to him akin to winter too. 
How when the cold months came around, people would spend less time outside and instead run to their homes to warm up in front of the fireplace. He was the winter people were hiding from. 
And you figured, you had heard of him. He was the special boy of the Gojo Clan, the first in centuries to inherit both The Limitless and The Six Eyes, whose birth alone shifted the power balance in the world, who had a bounty over his head at such a young age for being a force too great to be kept alive. 
He was the complete opposite of you, yet somehow the same as you. One rejected for being too much, and the other — for not being enough. Both were similarly exhausting, arduous, and lonely. 
You first met during a clans’ gathering. The big three brought together under one roof to discuss some matters you can’t quite recall now, just like you don’t remember the reason you were brought along. Perhaps to carry stuff around, like you always did. 
An exchange of shy glances as you waited outside, sitting on the wooden engawa (veranda) led you both slowly scooching over closer to one another, until the gap between you was small enough that you could see how his heartbeat made the collar of his kimono flutter ever so slightly. 
“Is it sweet?”, the boy pointed at the popsicle in your hand. “It is”, you answered along with a nod. Bringing it up to his mouth — “Want some?” — you invited him to take a bite as he looked at you with uncertain eyes. A blush painting a beautiful cherry hue on the pale complexion of his cheeks. He nibbled on the side of it — “It is!” — his eyes grew wide, a glow in them. 
“You’ve never had one? — surprise in you voice. “Of course, I have”, he lied, scratching the back of his head, a bit embarrassed of possibly seeming uncool in your eyes. 
He had a strict regime when it came to the food he consumed. Whatever he put into his mouth had to be of great value and nutrition, diligently prepared by the best chefs, so his body, or as others saw it — the shell where a god resided in — would grow healthy and strong to be on par with his powers. 
It was the first time you shared food with someone else. You usually ate alone, disgusted by the Zenins surrounding you around the table that your throat felt too tight to swallow anything that you put in your mouth, be it water even. 
And it was the first friend you ever made. While everyone up until now turned a blind eye and avoided you, he didn’t run. He even stayed. 
Introducing himself as “Satoru" only, he deliberately refrained from saying his full name at first. When you never pushed him to reveal it, he turned a bit fidgety. 
“You never asked about my last name” — lips slightly pursed, the muscles on his face fighting off a pout but failing eventually. “Maybe I’m not that interested in you” — tilting your head, you teased, yet — “Just kidding, I know who you are” — you quickly added upon seeing his brows knitting in dejection. “But you can be just Satoru with me” 
From that day onward you’d meet in secret every now and then, whenever both of you could manage to sneak out. For just a little bit. To eat popsicles and other sweet things together. 
That was, until your brother found out. 
Naoya always kept tabs on you after all. You were a prey to him, and chasing you was like a game. It was only a matter of time before he knew. Or perhaps he did already but let you sneak out on purpose so he could use it to his avail and torment you further. 
Naturally, the time you spent with Satoru fell shorter compared to that spent in the disciplinary pit. “That’s to teach you a lesson, little lamb”, Naoya would say with a twisted look in his eyes as he locked you up in there. 
At times like this, you’d remember your grandmother’s words — “the name of Zenin will abandon you once you get married”. 
...and an idea brewed in your mind. 
If you could run away right now, you would. But where would you go? What would you do? You were only six. If your own flesh and blood was this cruel to you, how could you expect the outside world to treat you any better? 
You were not that naive. You knew you had to wait. 
You endured the endless hours that felt like days and weeks in that pit, surviving by pure miracle every time. Or was it hope that kept you fighting? Because you knew, by the end of it, as long as you were alive, you’d find a way to meet your friend, the only one you had. And maybe he could save you one day. Maybe, tomorrow you could make a promise to each other — that when the time came and you were both of age, you would take his last name and be freed of the curse you were born with. 
...but Satoru never showed up. 
(to be continued) 
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The First Night 
(back to present) 
It was getting late. You spent more time than originally planned at lunch with Shoko and Geto as everyone had already cleared out their schedules for the day to join you on your escapade. 
You thought at first, that the entire time you would have to dodge questions such as How did this happen? When did you start seeing each other? When did you decide it was time? Who proposed? How? Doesn’t the animosity between your clans worry you? Have you considered the consequences even? Are you perhaps pregnant? Is this why all the rush is for?, etc...  
But that never happened. Neither of them pried, nor made you uncomfortable invading your personal space. In fact, they made you loosen up a bit by being warm and friendly, already treating you like one of them, mocking Gojo’s constant mischiefs in front of you. The setting resembled that of a parent-teacher meeting where you were in the role of the parent, and they were the teachers complaining to you about Gojo. It was a rather humbling experience for the whitehaired man who sat there pouting and subtly gesturing for them to cut it.  
But when he heard you laughing at their stories, he ceased. Sucking it up, he let them continue playfully bashing him. He had really missed your laugh. 
“So~ we’re here — welcome to your new home”, Satoru points at the huge mansion after helping you hop out of the car. One of the bodyguards in the yard immediately took the keys from his hand and drove the car away to park it in the garage area. 
To say this thing before your eyes was huge would be an understatement actually. After you quickly scanned the place you noticed there were a few more houses built around the mansion, and perhaps even behind it.  
The Gojo household was located in a huge, fenced area with a single front entrance, for security purposes (so it would always be known who walked in and out under meticulous surveillance), leading to a big yard with a well-kept garden befitting the Gojo Clan. The first house in front, and the biggest, was the main mansion — inhabited by Satoru’s parents and grandparents (from his father’s side), while extended family (like aunts, uncles, cousins — basically the most important members of the clan) resided in the ones around it. 
Satoru, despite being the clan head, did not live in the main mansion. His place was relatively isolated from the rest (ironically resembling the life he led and the powers he had), situated far behind all the houses, right before a path that led to a forest-like area as part of the Gojo property. 
“No way”, you gasp — “Don’t tell me you live with your entire clan?” — as you quickly pad forward, leaving him a few steps behind, to further inspect the place. 
“Not technically but yea, we stick together — clan traditions deem it this way”, he sighs. 
“Never took you as the tradition following guy, to be honest” 
He chuckles, “What can I say — I am full of surprises~ But truthfully, as the clan head I can’t just up and leave, you know? Besides...” — a pause, observing you as your eyes roam around studying the place, head turning from one side to the other in astonishment. Then his gaze shifts to his left hand. Lifting it slightly and spreading his fingers to look at his ring, and then back at you. “...sometimes deeply rooted habits are hard to break. Especially if one holds onto them for too long. It’s hard to let go no matter what kind of person you are” 
“There’s something even beyond you, Gojo Satoru?”, your voice almost mocking but somehow lacking the right tone to it, too distracted by your surroundings. 
He laughs, “Maybe. Just one little thing only” — words mumbled under his breath, too soundless for your ears to catch on. 
-- 
After you made it in, he gave you a full tour around the house. Walking you through each and every room, thoroughly explaining where things were and how you could touch up anything you desired and change it to your liking — this was now your home, too.   
The last stop was the bedroom.  
“Should I carry you in bridal style? That’s how newlyweds do it~”, Satoru smirks at you, arms crossed around his waist, his side leaning against the doorframe. 
You were about to make a face there for a second and give him an eyeroll, maybe even pick on him for watching way too many romcoms, but you held back. 
“Sure, why not”, you mumble instead, looking down. 
After all, before you was the room where certain things were to happen in, according to your deal, and you thought it’s best to let him indulge in this play pretend and carry you in as your feet were frozen in their tracks anyway. Nervous of what was ahead, you couldn’t bring yourself to move. 
“Oh?” — caught off guard, not expecting you to actually go along with it, he gasps, but then — “Right?” — quickly plays it cool. “Alright, bride-o-mine, here we go” 
Charging towards you with a slow step, he leans down so your eyes are on equal level, face an inch away from yours. So close that, as he cracks his lips open to swipe a tongue across them his hot breath feels like steam against your skin. Licking his lips, a habit you were painfully familiar with, it was something he did when he got nervous that seemingly didn’t change from when he was little. 
He scoops you up effortlessly, holding you tight but tenderly at the same time. His fingers clutching firmly around you yet at the same time careful enough to not bruise you.  “Almost there”, he pushes the creaked door open with his foot and carries you in through the doorway. 
Flustered, you turn your head the other way in an attempt to hide the heat eliciting from your face. You were way too close. His scent invading your nostrils, you could almost distinguish his natural body odor from his perfume. 
“Oh, my... If you shy away this easily”, he carefully sits you on the bed — “how are we to make that baby~ Hm?” — and smugly smirks as he plops down next to you right after, his knee scarcely brushing against your leg.  
“Tch...”, you click your tongue, heat still spreading like fire on your cheeks, and even far up to your ears. “Didn’t know you wanted to bed me right away?” — is he really going to jump on you now? Why bring up the baby talk otherwise... 
He gasps in an overexaggerated manner, gluing fingertips to his mouth, “Thought I could give you some time to adjust, but if you insist...” 
“Ugh, Gojo”, you aim a reflex eyeroll his way. 
“What now, are you talking to yourself?” 
“Excuse me?”, you lift a brow. 
“You’re a Gojo too now, you know?”, a grin on his lips, the kind he makes when he’s about to win something. “When you refer to me, you have to say my first name — Sa-to-ru — to avoid any confusion~” 
See, that was his goal all along — to make you call him by name, just like in the past. 
...but two can play this game. You had no intention of losing this battle to him. 
“Sweetheart”, your tone overly delicate on purpose, as you tilt your head, cheek pressing against your shoulder. “Isn’t this better?”, you flutter your lashes at him. 
His reaction comes slow. The full grin from a second ago is now a half, the other half — a surprise, with a sprinkle of a new, unknown to you glint in his eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game there, sweetheart”, he breathes, scooching closer to you. An arm finding its way around your waist, wrapping itself from the small of your back all the way front, hand stopping at your navel. 
A flinch shudders through your body, but he’s got you still, you can’t pull away. “What happened to giving me time to adjust?”, you mutter, not as feisty anymore. This was a side you haven’t seen to him, which you figured was natural. You knew him as a kid, now — he was a man. And like all men do, he was acting on his urges. 
“You push my buttons”, he’s leaning closer, and closer, and closer, until your noses are brushing and breaths are exchanging. His free hand rolling up and tucking the few strands of hair falling on your face behind your ear, then slowly sliding to the back of your neck. “Trying to get me excited?” 
“If a mere endearment excites you this much, what will become of you when I say your name?” 
He laughs, his breath infesting your mouth. Lips accidentally grazing yours from the action itself, which draws a low, helpless hum out of him. “Care to find out?” 
You jolt — something about the way he was looking at you told you this wasn’t just some simple teasing — and finally bring your hands to use and push him away and get up. “I need a shower” 
“Ah, got all hot and bothered? It’s okay, I am used to it — I have this type of effect on women all the time~”, he chuckles, earning yet another eyeroll from you. Reaching behind to grab a pillow and sit it on his lap, subtly hiding the fact that he got all hot and bothered, too. “You know where the bathroom is, sweetheart” 
He won this round. 
-- 
Satoru is still sitting in the bed, back relaxed against the headboard with one foot thrown over the other on the mattress, as you make your way out of the bathroom. You smell like him now, he thinks — only natural after having to use his shower gel and shampoo — as your freshly showered self approaches the side of the bed your pajamas were carefully folded and placed at. He took it upon himself to buy them for you, along with some clothes, and shoes, and bags, since you couldn’t pack and take anything with you. 
“Can you, umm”, you fidget, “turn around or something? I want to get dressed” 
“There you go again, shying away from your own husband”, he smugly teases. 
“Oh, you want to watch so bad? How perverse of you, sweetheart”, you mock, loosening the belt of your bathrobe so the fabric covering your shoulders slides down a bit, revealing more of your flesh. 
There’s a good chance for this reverse psychology to backfire now, you think, but you just couldn’t make peace with him picking on you like that. 
He shifts in his place, now sitting up on the opposite side, legs touching the ground and his back turned against you. The transition was so quick and instinctive as if he, by sheer luck, dodged a bullet aimed to take his life. “I’d love to stay for the show but, you see...”, he rubs the back of his neck, “I need to check the report regarding my students’ mission from today” 
“I see”, a victorious smirk on your lips as you watch him walk away. 
This round was yours. Now you were even. 
-- 
You were going to be trouble. 
The report was, of course, an excuse. He had to make it out of the room, or he would’ve done something terrible to you. 
His face burning hot as he quickly stripped himself of his clothes in one of the guest rooms downstairs and went straight into the bathroom to cool off. An aching pulse on his groin dragging inaudible curses from his mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 
A stream of ice-cold water hitting his face, hugging his shoulders, cascading down the rest of his well-built body before washing down into the drain. He stands there still and completely unaffected by the temperature. He was burning inside. 
Eyes shut, he thinks about you — about the way that bathrobe loosely enveloped your frame, about the gap temptingly revealing bits of your cleavage, leaving little to the imagination... about sliding his hands down into that very gap and pushing it open, taking the fabric covering your shoulders in his hands and pulling it down your arms to expose your breasts... about clasping both of your wrists behind the small of your back while his other hand moves to the side of your face and holds your chin before kissing you hungrily... then moving to your jawbone, and then lower, and lower... and lower, kissing and nibbling until he reaches your nipples, and then further below... 
His hand relentlessly stroking his cock to the visual of you in his imagination. Part of him absolutely disgusted by what he was doing right now, thinking how he was tainting the innocent girl from his memories. But then another, the one he couldn’t suppress — shamelessly trying to picture even beyond, making up in his mind what he thought your sweet expressions and obscene sounds would be like under his touch.  
His balls tighten up to him as he pumps himself from base to head with firm strokes, low growls rising from his throat echo through the walls the faster his hand works up and down his shaft. 
The tension soon leaves his body, his cum oozing out from between his fingers and spraying all over the bathroom tiles.  
Oh, you were going to be trouble for sure... 
-- 
“What puzzles me though, is that nobody has called you all day”, he walks into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his hips. “In all honesty, it’s been bugging me for a while now”, a hand brushes back his damp hair. 
“They think I’m staying over at a friend’s place”, trying to ignore the view before you, you avert your gaze from him and his ridiculously lean body and well sculpted six pack that looked way too perfect to be real. He probably came here half naked, on purpose, to get back at you for earlier... Say nothing, say nothing, say nothing — you kept internally repeating to yourself. Play it cool. 
“And they let you?”, he casually saunters over to you, his hand reaching behind you to grab a hold of his nightwear sitting on his pillow. Seriously? He had to walk all the way to your side only to reach for the pajamas placed on his? What a sore loser... 
“Mhm”, you hum, lips tight and eyes looking down at your lap, “I managed to convince father. The odds were in our favor, I guess? — But I have to pay them a visit tomorrow, to deliver the news” 
“We will pay them a visit”, he corrects you. “I’m coming with you” 
“You don’t have to” 
“But I want to”, he insists, his resolve is solid. 
“Okay”, you don’t resist any further. “What about your family? When are we telling them?” 
He makes his way to the bathroom inside the room, while still speaking to you from over there. At least he’s not as shameless to get dressed in front of you.  
“They’re easy, I’ll talk to them some time tomorrow. Might organize a little thing to introduce my wife properly, heheh” 
“How do you think they’ll take the news? I mean, I know they won’t endorse it but — on a scale from one to ten, how bad do you think it will be?” 
“What does it matter when it’s fait accompli? Besides, they can’t go against my decisions, so”, he shrugs after making it back, fully dressed now. Thanks god. But wait... 
“Did you seriously get us matching pajamas?”, you look him up. He was wearing the exact same pair in blue, while yours was a light shade of pink. 
“Yea?”, he emits a dorky snicker. “Don’t you think it’s cute?” 
“Ew, cringe”, you fight back a snort. 
What a truly bothersome man... 
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Bad Faith 
— (n.) dishonest behavior with the intention of deceiving someone. “bad faith” refers to dishonesty or fraud in a transaction. depending on the exact setting, bad faith may mean a dishonest belief or purpose, untrustworthy performance of duties, neglect of fair dealing standards, or a fraudulent intent 
You slept well for once in your life, despite being in a new place, a new bed — you knew you owed it to the fact you were away from the Zenins.  
The same can’t be said about Gojo though. 
He stayed wide awake all night, restless, turning and tossing, making occasional visits to the shower even, to calm it down. Annoyed to some extent by how he was the only one in turmoil while you innocently slept next to him, unaware of his condition. He felt like an insatiable teenager all over again. How embarrassing, he thought... 
During the whole car ride to the Zenins, he kept yawning and rubbing his eyes from beneath his pitch-black sunglasses that were adeptly hiding his dark sleepless circles caused by none other than you. 
“You can wait in the car”, you try your chance one last time after arriving. 
“I said I’m coming with you, so don’t waste your breath” 
“Fine” 
After you both make it past the gates of the Zenin household, the few of the servants standing in the veranda quickly pad inside — most likely to bring it to your father’s attention, you think. 
All the rest you got the night before instantly leaves your body now that you’re in Zenin territory, your chest filled with unease as you cross the threshold of the place that, despite being so big, could never quite fit you in and be a home to you. 
Your mouth feels too dry, you try to swallow the lump in your throat, but it keeps sitting there like an immovable object, growing bigger even the further you step in. 
Unknowingly, you’re grabbing Satoru’s hand, squeezing it tight. “Relax. I am right here”, he leans in to soothingly whisper in your ear, which makes you realize your actions. You pull your hand away, picking up your pace. 
...only to slow down and take a step back the moment your eyes fixate on none other than your brother, Naoya, leaning against the wall in the hallway. Waiting for you. His hair falling on his face, covering the look in his eyes but by the way his teeth bite into his lower lip, you can tell — he’s not thrilled by the view of you together.  
“Well, well”, a loud, hysterical laughter erupts from Naoya’s mouth as he strolls over to you, thumbing the bridge of his nose. “If this doesn’t remind me of good old times when my little sister would sneak out to play with you — are you perhaps falling back into that bad habit of yours, little lamb?” 
You flinch as Naoya’s claw-like hand reaches for your shoulder, ready to hook his grip on you, but with a swift move Gojo stands in front of you and stops your brother, leaving him unable to go any further due to his infinity. “Hello to you too” 
Naoya clicks his tongue, not pleased with the impenetrable intrusion. “Tch... Move, don’t butt in in family matters” 
Satoru chuckles condescendingly, “I am family too now, you know? — Dear brother-in-law" 
A jarring burst of inconsistent, unsettling laughter follows this declaration, each sound leaving Naoya’s lips grows more hectic and twisted, the tone wavering between low and high, and it sends a chill down your spine. 
“Huh... sis... that true?”, the deranged madness in his voice dying down now, but he speaks with a timbre of sinisterness. His eyes wide, unblinking and staring right at you with piercing lunacy in them. 
He had the same exact maniacal aura to him right now, just like years ago when he first confronted you about the secret escapades with Satoru. 
Terrified, you hug your shoulders. Head turned the other way, trying to hide from the sharp daggers in his gaze. 
You only manage a nod, and the sick sound from seconds ago echoes through the hallway once again. 
“You—”, Naoya grits his teeth, trying to draw near you but the whitehaired man before him won’t budge. “How long have you been plotting this for, huh?” 
Irritated at Gojo’s technique that leaves him unable to come any closer and wipe that mighty grin off his face, Naoya takes his frustration out on the wall by punching a hole right through it. “You fucking as—” 
“Naoya”, your father’s voice approaching from behind him interrupts the commotion. “Go cool your head off” 
“Tch...”, it’s not that he feels like complying, no. His arrogant self would never bow down to anyone, not even his own father, the clan head. 
But walking away right now gave him a chance to pass by you — and he’d gladly take it, as there was something he wanted to confirm.  
“Did you let him touch you, little lamb? Answer me — did you?”, he stops right behind you and whispers from over your shoulder. 
You wince, his breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. Noticing that Satoru’s hand is moving slightly up and getting ready to possibly attack your brother, you gesture at him to stop. Mouthing a silent it’s fine. 
“Don't but in in husband-wife matters, our sex life is off-limits for you, brother”, you mutter over your shoulder. 
“Pfft”, his eyes squint knowingly at you. “Good — I don’t smell foreign residuals on you. Good, little lamb. Good.” 
-- 
“So, you two, huh?”, Naobito, sitting cross-legged on the floor in the tatami room, takes a sip of his sake and wipes the droplets drizzling from the corners of his mouth. 
It was barely noon, yet your father, as per usual, had already started his drinking for the day, most likely during the early hours of the morning at that. 
You hum, but the man beside you, your husband, had something more to say. 
“What can I do, old man — your daughter’s a beauty, I had to go and take her. Pardon my rudeness, I forgot to ask for your approval first” — to which you basically facepalm yourself. 
“If you had done that first, you wouldn’t be sitting here now, you arrogant brat”, Naobito drags out, the alcohol must be getting to him. “But the damage is done already, what can I say”, he adds through a hiccup. 
“—or do, against me — Right, old man?”, Satoru shoots a proud grin, then on a more serious tone, he continues — “She’s mine now. And I don’t quite fancy it when people pry on what belongs to me. So, I ask of you to act accordingly from now on, or there will be consequences” 
“You ask? Yet this sounds more like a threat to me” 
“It could be, depends on you” 
Silence. 
The air in the room is intense and heavy after these exchanges. There’s a calm smile on both of your father’s and husband’s faces, yet the glare in their eyes is as cold as absolute zero. 
“With that being said, glad we’re on the same page and thank you for the half-assed belated blessing~ I will take care of her from now on, don’t you worry”, your husband nonchalantly breaks the silence, then looks at you with a quick shake of his head towards the door. Meaning, our job here is done. Let’s go. 
“You might go, I wish to speak to my daughter, alone” 
Satoru glances at you, looking for consent in your eyes. You nod affirmatively, “Wait for me in the car” 
Before walking out, Satoru gives one last warning. “Old man, if you try anything funny, I’ll make this place one with the ground beneath you”  
-- 
“Make this place one with the ground?”, Naobito laughs uproariously. “You’ve gotten under his skin. Good.” 
He gulps down another cup before proceeding, “He’s always got a soft spot for you. I’ve seen his eyes wander in search of you during clans’ gatherings, but this — this is beyond my expectations even”, he wheezes. “Good job. You’re finally doing something right and being useful to the clan” 
“I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for my own sake”, you grit your teeth. 
“I don’t care for your purpose so long we sow the benefits of what you reap, just like I don’t care how you do it so long you take him down — poison him or slit his throat in his sleep, I couldn’t care less. Just make sure he’s dead by the end of it — it’s the only way to get that lousy freedom you’ve been babbling about all these years” 
The terms were clear from the beginning, yet your stomach fills to the brim with guilt, threatening to spill out from your mouth the more your father speaks of it. 
And he continues, “If you give him a child too in the meantime — even better. That way the Zenins can take over the Gojo Clan”, a greedy curve on his mouth wet with sake. “But in all honesty, what surprises me the most is you, actually — you’re more of a Zenin now than ever”, an unhinged laughter cracks his lips. 
Your father’s words stab through your heart like a sharp knife. Snapping a few necks for the greater good for yourself, your freedom, shouldn’t be a problem after all you’ve been through. 
But then, why does it feel like he is right? You are more of a Zenin now than ever. Why does it feel like the more you try to run away from the Zenins, the more you become one? 
And why does your heart ache so much for the man you are to kill soon?
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