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all-purpose-dish-soap · 1 month ago

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64 / 4.1k / soap soulmate au, final part

...

"You doing okay?"

Hearing Graves’ voice knocks what little breath you had out of your lungs. It's been months, but that's him. Your old boss. You never thought you'd hear his voice again.

"I've been better," you say finally. "Been awhile."

"Yeah, it has," he says. "Wish you'd've called me to catch up sometime, rather than under the circumstances. You don't sound too banged up. They treat you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"I didn't ask how you feel. I asked if they roughed you up."

You feel your own temper shorten in response. "I need you to call KorTac off."

There's a pause. You can imagine his frowning face, the way he's thinking that one over. "I'll take that under advisement," he finally says, but you can tell he's not going to do what you ask of him. "Puttin' me in a predicament here, kid. You're giving those boys a hard time, and here I thought I was helping you out. Paying your bail, so to speak."

"It’s more complicated than that."

"Always is. Let’s just have you dropped off back on base with us. You can clean yourself up and we’ll talk."

He waits for your crisp yes, sir, but it never comes.

He speaks again. "You got somewhere else to be?"

"I can't go back."

"Can't or won't? You got something you ain't tellin me, soldier?"

"I said I can't go back. And I'm not your soldier anymore. You're not my boss. I don't work for you."

"You know Shadows don't leave one of our own behind. Not to rot in some CIA prison cell. So lose the attitude," he says, voice like iron. "This ain't a good time to play games, kid. You're comin' back with me because I spent a pretty penny on you. You owe me. You have your personal business, fine. Come on back to base and let's talk this out face to face before you go makin' any hasty decisions."

You're so frustrated it's hard to form words. You should be grateful. You know that. Graves doesn’t pretend to care about his men. He cares enough to lead from the front. But you met your soulmate, and you can’t act like it didn't change you. You need to make things right. You also can’t exactly tell Graves you kind of sold him out.

"Hey. Focus up." He doesn't raise his voice to a command. Still, the order is in his voice, and you have been long trained to follow your commander's orders. Then he sighs. "What happened to you, kid?"

"You betrayed the 141. You killed innocent people in Las Almas, looking for them."

You can almost hear his jaw working behind his clenched teeth, the muscles in his face tight. He does not allow this kind of disrespect. "You think I like what I had to do? General Shepherd's orders were clear. We followed them. 141 did not." He huffs out a sigh. "I didn't enjoy it. But that's the job. You of all people know that."

You swallow. "You told us they were our brothers. You killed innocent people, Commander. Johnny said he saw you do it--"

"Johnny?" Grave's voice rises. "You on a first name basis with Soap now?"

"We all know what happened in Las Almas," you retort. Your skin goes hot at the way he says Johnny's name. "I won't work for Shepherd anymore after that. I won't fucking do it."

"Don't pull that with me." The warning is written in his voice. This isn't like you. To the Shadows, you’re calm. Cold. You don't lose your temper. You don't talk back. Especially not to Graves. "You think you can walk away at the drop of a hat just because you don't agree with an order? It doesn't work like that. You follow an order, even if you don't like it, even if it pisses you off. You don't get to decide what you think is right or wrong to carry out. When I give you an order, you follow it. That's your job. Your loyalty is with me. Not with the 141."

"I did my job."

"Then act like it," he snaps. "Stop acting like I'm some evil bastard out here. I made the only choice I could. Task Force 141 was not supposed to be there. They knew my orders, and what did they do? They came after my men, went behind my back, screwed us over. We did what we had to. You wanna be pissed at someone? Be pissed at them."

You glare down at the ice, but say nothing.

"You know I'm right." He knows you. He's getting to you. "And you know what else I find interesting? You don't seem a bit surprised to hear me alive." His voice is too casual and sharp as a knife. "Didn't you get the memo? Did no one forward you my obituary, soldier?"

You stiffen. You're not supposed to know he's alive.

"You're an awful liar. Always have been." He pauses for a long moment. "It ain't easy, surviving against the 141 if they want you dead. You know how I managed it, soldier?"

Yes. "No,” you retort. “And stop calling me that. I'm not your soldier. I don't work for you anymore."

"The hell you aren't. Maybe you're not on the payroll anymore, and maybe you're no longer under my command, but once a Shadow, always a Shadow. That makes you my responsibility. And my goddamn headache." Something shuffles on the other end of the line. "You know exactly what I'm willing to do to keep one of my Shadows safe. But if you're so keen on turning yourself in, fine. I'll have you in front of Shepherd's desk first thing tomorrow. Is that what you want? You know Soap and Ghost put Shadows in the ground that night in Las Almas."

"Shadows tried to put Johnny and Ghost in the ground first."

"This isn't about who shot first. This is about you." His voice is dangerously low, but he keeps his temper in check. Then he huffs a laugh. "You keep callin’ him Johnny. Makes my brain itch." Johnny MacTavish. John MacTavish. Yeah, that's it. "I'll be damned," he mutters.

You touch your exposed soulmark compulsively as if to hide it. Most soldiers hide theirs, but yours has always been tough to cover up. He's seen it more than a few times.

"Got you right out from under my fuckin' nose."

Your stomach tightens. You feel too exposed, like suddenly he’s putting the story together--how 141 got in.

"Shoulda known. Shoulda known. You know the military has a registry for this shit. There are rules. What's wrong with you?"

"I made a mistake," you mutter.

That might be the funniest thing he ever heard. And he's heard some good jokes. "You don't make mistakes, kiddo. You never have. That's not how I trained you." He's right, and you know it. "But hey. Guess it's true what they say about it."

"What?"

"Soulbonds. Make you take your best-laid plans and raze ‘em. Full scorched earth.”

“This isn’t about that. I’m making this decision on my own.”

“You think?” He takes a puff on his cigarette. “I don’t. I don't blame you, either. You sure as hell fought it as best you could. Didn't give in to save your own life. If that's not the soulbond making your decision for you, soldier, I don't know what is."

You look up at the sky. For all the time you spent working with Graves, that past version of you might as well be dead. Maybe that’s the grave you’ve been digging. "I can't work for Shepherd anymore. I won't do it."

"You're a good soldier, 86. You were loyal. I still think you're loyal, even if I'm not who you're loyal to," he finally says. His voice is still calm. It doesn't make you feel any better. "You know if you choose to walk away from this, the next time we meet might well be as enemies."

"Then I guess we won't meet again, sir."

He says nothing. Then he lets out a long huff. You really are going to do him dirty. You can hear his scowl. "That's a damn shame, kid. But you have more of a spine than I gave you credit for," he says. There's a tone of reluctant respect to it. That's as close as you're going to get to a compliment from him now. "You're a loose end, then. You'd best stay well out of the way. Mine and Shepherd's. I hope you're not making the wrong choice, 86," he says quietly. "I really hope you're not."

"It’s out of your hands now. And pay KorTac," you add. "Pay my squad. They did their job."

That makes him scoff. "Now why would I do that? You might be a traitor, but you're still my investment. You were worth more on my payroll than theirs, and that’s a fact I intend to maintain."

"You owe me," you remind him.

"Don't push your luck," he warns. "You're an asset. You don’t get the privileges of rank anymore. But, well..." He sighs. You imagine him with his heels kicked back on his desk, cigarette in hand. "I’ll tell you what. I’m in a charitable mood. I'll pay them off. I'm a man of my word when the time comes to pay off my debts. Hell, I’ll even throw in a tip for a job well done." Despite the annoyance in his voice, you don't doubt he'll do just that. "But that doesn’t mean I trust you anymore. I trusted you once, and you went rogue. I let you go now, that means I expect you to keep my secrets. Don't you go singing if Shepherd puts you in a chair. You got that?"

You glance up out of the corner of your eye at Soap, whose hands are still clenched in tight fists at his sides. "If Shepherd puts me in a chair, he's the one who's gonna sing. Not me."

Graves chuckles. "You're a good soldier, 86, but you can't take on an old war dog like Shepherd. Leave that to someone more qualified."

"Like who? You?"

"As I said, you best steer clear. I don't want to hear your name again." His voice hardens, and you hear your old commander again. "Good luck, kid. You'll need it. And give Soap hell."

You toss the phone back to Horangi. He listens to what Graves has to say. Then, eyes meeting yours for a moment, he wordlessly moves out away from the river, leaving you weary with relief. It's over. Finally.

Soap watches him disappear into the trees. Then, he looks back at you, alone and shivering on the ice. You look half-dead, bleeding, and your lips are near blue. He wants to make his way to you, but the ice is scarcely holding you. It won't hold him, too.

"Oi," Soap calls. His voice is rough with anxiety. "Get over here. You're gonnae freeze to death even if you don't fall through."

You blink up at him. Standing in the rising sun the way he is now, he looks like someone’s guardian angel. Yours? You'd like very much to be wrapped in his wings.

You make your way over to the bank, but the rocky ledge up is slippery and icy. Behind you, between the ice where you're standing and the bank, there's a yawning gap. To your left, there's a bridge, but snow has already melted off the surface of the ice, and it looks thin. "There's no way up," you call. "But downriver..."

"No’ a chance in hell I’m going to let you try to cross that," Soap says as he approaches the edge. "You'll be swept away and drown, hen. You're not in any condition to swim, and even if you were, that river's too bloody fast to risk it."

"Then what do you suggest?"

His eyes sweep over the river once more. It's wide; too wide to attempt a jump across. The ice has fallen in, leaving it almost impossible to make it to the bank. It isn't safe. The longer you stand there, the more the ice cracks under you. He admires your guts for putting yourself on the line like that to get back to him, but damn you. His blood pressure has never been higher.

Soap throws off his pack and slings his gear onto the bank. "I'll pull you up."

"But..."

"But nothing." With the adrenaline still pumping through his system, Soap thinks nothing of the risk of the bank collapsing under you both with his added weight. The only thing on his mind is getting you back in one piece. "We both know damn well, if I was the one on the ice now, you'd already be down there trying to help me, so for once, just shut up and let me help you."

Can't argue with that.

He pulls out an ice hook--mountaineering equipment; he was prepared to climb this mission, luckily--and offers it to you.

You toss the grenade as far as you can in the opposite direction. Then you raise your hands to grasp the rope. He's holding the sharp end and giving you the handle. You try to keep hold, but as he lifts, your bloodied hands slip just as the grenade explodes nearby, too close, spiderwebbing the ice with a final crack.

You land hard, break through, and disappear under the freezing water.

Soap has never known panic faster than when he sees you go under.

He dives after you. He has to get you back to the surface before whatever air you had in your lungs gives out. Your survival is his survival.

He finds you in the rushing black abyss when your fingers hook around his sleeve. Wrapping his hands around your arms, Soap anchors you to his chest.

You come to in his arms. You're colder than you ever have been in your life. Your fingertips tingle in pain and numbness. He's carrying you ashore somehow--far downriver, thinner ice--and he ducks into an old cabin with you in his arms.

Soap kicks the door shut behind him and moves into the cabin to set you on the floor, propping your back against the wall. His hands work fast as he pulls out his knife to cut away your soaked thermal clothes and gear. You dip in and out of consciousness until he wads up a fistful of gauze and packs it into your side wound. The sudden pain chokes you. Then a wave of nausea washes over you. You’d like nothing more than to tell him where precisely he can shove that gauze, but you’re too lightheaded.

"You with me, hen?" His gruff voice wavers. "I need you to stay awake."

He gathers you up in his arms and lifts you into his lap. It's a tight fit, wedged underneath the frosty window and between a table and an upturned stool. You register the warmth of his skin on yours and dimly realize he's stripped both of you almost bare, huddling around you to prevent hypothermia.

You soak up Soap’s body heat instantly. He's a furnace, and he needs to be, given the state you're in. He tucks you as close as he can. You're both shivering, but he doesn't care. He can be cold as long as you're warm. His broad body shields you from the drafts leaking into the decrepit cabin.

"No, no, eyes open." He tilts your face up as your eyes flutter. "Don't go passin' out on me."

You gaze up at him in your stupor. Maybe it's the blood loss, but even through your own pain and frustration, he's the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen.

"You have really odd eyes," you mutter. "Like blueberry soft serve."

Oh, you're definitely delirious. Maybe concussed.

But he can't deny the look you're giving him right now makes his stomach flip. The sight of you in his lap, your frost-scorched fingers wrapped idly around his ID tag and staring up at him like he's just pulled the moon out of the sky for you... it's the first time he’s seen you with your guard down.

He swallows and keeps you pressed against his skin. There’s a lot of blood. He can’t tell what’s yours and what isn’t. "You're in no shape to flatter me."

You hum, your fingers dabbing idly at a smear of blood on his chest.

He doesn't move to stop you. Instead, his eyes flick down to your hand. Your fingers leave a trail of sparks over everywhere you touch.

With a soft sigh, Soap catches your wrist. "Quit it, hen."

"Quit what?"

"Teasin'. Makin' me wish you'd put those hands to other uses," he says, voice quiet and rough. It's just you and him in the little cabin. The world is far away. His thumb rubs against the inside of your wrist, trying to bring some warmth back into your skin. "You're in no shape to be feelin' me up, either."

Your head lolls against his shoulder. "Maybe it's the perfect time. Maybe we won't get another time."

Hearing you say that twists his insides into knots. He leans down to rest his forehead against yours. "Maybe you just need to shut up and let me take care of you. Don't talk like that." His voice leaves no room for argument. He tightens his grip on you, pressing you closer as if he can somehow press that into your skin by sheer will alone. "There'll be plenty of times for you to get your hands on me."

"Mm." You tuck into him tighter. You'd be mortified with yourself if you weren't half-dead from blood loss. "Sorry."

He exhales into your hair, pressing chaste kisses there.

You're practically in his lap, the two of you tangled into each other from head to foot in the space under the window. He's surrounded by the smell of you. It's a soothing presence in all that surrounds him.

He shouldn't want to touch you, shouldn't want to take advantage of your weakness--but the thought of having you so open and wanting, of you willingly in his arms, makes something in him ache. Makes the selfish parts of him scream.

"You're a pain in my arse," he says. He focuses on taking inventory of your wounds, brushing over your arms with his touch to assess the damage. "You gonnae bleed out on me?"

You shiver a little as he drags you closer by your bare thigh. "Wouldn't be the worst way to go."

"Oi," he snaps in warning. He slides his hand up your side, checking for bleeding. It’s just as much a caress over your bare skin. He has to ignore how his skin tingles every time the curve of your body slides against his in that tantalizing way. Something in his lower belly tightens. "You don't get to tap out after makin' me go through all this trouble for you. You're livin' through tonight or else."

"Or else what?"

"Or else." He moves his hand up to the base of your throat, his large, calloused fingers wrapping around your neck and tilting your chin up to look at him. He fixes his blue eyes on yours to take in the dazed expression on your face. "I'll drag your arse out of hell and tan it until you can't sit right."

You're too weary to laugh, but you rest your scuffed cheek on his thumb, and it pushes your lips into a smirk. "All for me?"

"Aye. Hell of a lot more trouble than your pretty face should be worth."

You pull free and rest your head on his shoulder again. "Where do you live?"

"Glasgow," he says. "Not sure I should be tellin' you that."

You trace his chest around the chain of his ID tag. So many muscles. "Probably not."

"And what about you? Do I get to know?"

"No. Maybe. If we get out of here."

"Yeah? Well, you're not goin' anywhere with this wound. Bleedin' out, nearly froze to death, and still mouthin' off. No idea how to shut up and be good." He looks down at the injury, assessing how bad it really is in the dim light of the cabin. "You lost a lot of blood. I bet you feel tired." He brushes your hair off your face. "Stay awake a bit longer. The boys'll be here soon."

"I shouldn't," you mutter.

Soap doesn't miss the slurring of your words. He knew the blood loss would affect you, but he was hoping for more time before he had to really worry. "Shouldn't stay? Too late to get away from me now," he says, trying to keep his tone casual. Your skin is too cold for comfort. The gauze in your wound soaking through with blood can't mean anything good. "I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you. Sure as hell not letting you out of my sight. You've got a lot to repay me for."

You try to keep your eyes open. Every blink is more sluggish than the last. "Like what?"

"Runnin' away and makin' me chase after you, for one. Puttin' yourself in the line of fire for me, second. Takin' a swim in a frozen river. Scared me to death." He presses his lips to the crown of your head, a gentle, chaste touch at odds with the possessive, dominating instinct he can feel creeping into his thoughts. You're vulnerable right now, something he should never want, but part of him wonders if he’d ever have caught up with you without this. "Aye, you owe me. First thing we do once you're patched up? We have a long talk. We have a whole hell of a lot we need to say to one another. And you'll answer every question I ask you."

"I dunno if you'll like the stuff I say," you mutter.

"Hardly matters. You’re plenty keen on spittin’ fire at me as it is. No reason you can’t keep tellin’ me everything I don’t want tae hear."

Another shiver wracks your body.

Soap rubs your arms. "You gotta give your word you stay awake for me, aye? Stay here."

His radio beeps nearby. You huff. "Fine."

"Fine." He leans over to grab his radio and tries to keep an arm around your shoulders to keep you warm as he does. He keeps you cradled against his chest as he responds to Price.

"Soap here."

You don't hear the conversation. Instead, you listen to Soap's voice vibrate through his chest. He speaks to Price in hushed tones, talking about your condition and the team's ETA.

Price has a laundry list of questions, but Soap manages to wrangle them into holding off until they have everyone back on base. No sense exhausting you on a mission that's already been a shitshow. Finally, they're done. Soap lets the radio go to focus entirely on you again. "Still with me?"

"How long do we have?"

"Shouldn't be too much longer," he says. He checks your side again. The coldness of the air has soaked into the wet gauze. You shiver again. It makes something in him ache. "ETA's about ten minutes out."

You pull his lips down to yours and kiss him.

He's surprised, but he doesn't pull back--not from you. He lets you kiss him. Your taste seeps into his brain and turns all rational thought to white noise. One hand cups your jaw with a surprising gentleness, and the other slides behind your waist to keep you against his body. He's gentle--you need to be handled with care right now.

He pulls back before he loses himself in the desire to deepen the kiss. His eyes search your face, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot against your lips.

"You're lucky you're injured," he murmurs. "Or you'd be in a very different kind of trouble right now."

You shiver, but not with the cold. Just that one kiss has you feeling much warmer. You touch your name where it's written on his arm. Then you curl your fingers around the back of his neck and pull yourself closer. "Hold onto that thought for later," you murmur. "Give me something to wait for."

Then you kiss him again.

...

← previous part / [part 13] / epilogue →

part 1 / more Soap / masterlist

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sugarlywhispers · 8 months ago

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b.katsuki + reader!Quirk similar to him

Your first year at UA was going amazingly. Not only because it meant it was one step closer to your dream of being a hero, it also brought new challenges and new people into your life. You have made two new best friends: Gouna, a tall girl with an elastic type of Quirk, and Zynu, an exchange student from Greece, who had a fast Quirk. Literally, she was freaking fast.

The first semester of school consisted in getting to know each of the classmates and oneself. Training, studying, physical tests in groups. Also boring tests like Maths and English.

But it has been magnificent so far.

Until the training camp. Pushing one's Quirk to the limit had literally brought you to tears. Being a cold type of quirk yourself, you never thought you would be able to do what you were doing. But you gave your all, like always. You were focused. Witty and ready. Ready to fight for that number one spot in the rankings at every moment of your life. And very loud about it too.

"She reminds me of someone…" Kan-sensei once commented to Aizawa-sensei, smiling amused.

Your black haired teacher rolled his eyes, "Please, no…"

You didn't know who they were talking about at the time, but whomever they were, you decided you would be fucking better.

That camp had been one hell of a test for everyone.

Or so that's what all of you thought until the day to meet the Big Three came.

Despite other previous years, these Class 1s, A and B, hadn't met them until closer to the end of their first year. Apparently, they had been on a mission in another country.

"Can you believe it??? They haven't even graduated yet and they already go on missions!!" Zynu exclaims, giving little fast jumps as the whole classes 1-A and B awaits for the Big Three to arrive at Gym Gamma.

"Well, our little Y/N has nothing to envy them, right?" Gouna lays her forearm on one of your shoulders, making you smile.

"Ughh, I still can't believe Hawks himself asked you for help…" Zyna smiles so happy for you, her hand grabbing yours and shaking it way too fast in excitement. Gouna laughs at the way your one fast and joyful friend pulls you.

"She was only called because Hero Shoto wasn't around to help."

The annoying voice behind you makes you groan.

"Don't you have anything else to do than to prove how very in love you're with my friend here?" Gouna's words make you snort before turning around.

Hamata Aiko, the one guy that always has an opinion about you –a bad one, if you may add– stands there, all bulky, full of himself and annoyingly looking down at you like you're scum, with hands closed in fists.

"All of you are going to be in love with me once I take down all three of the Golden Trio…" He declares, flexing his arm so his bicep pops out even more. Disgusting.

The look you share with your two best friends, followed by a cackle of loud laugh, brings the attention of most students around.

"I'll bring tissues for when you cry like a baby after being embarrassingly defeated. But that was a great joke, Aiko-chan," you can hear the grit of his teeth at your mockery.

A huge shadow with red eyes suddenly appears behind Hamata. "A joke indeed," the low voice that came from the shadow makes this same boy jump away like a scaredy cat.

You back away a few steps just so you don't get stepped on. Light then clears everyone’s vision and you see this man– this mountain of a man, with red eyes and blond hair, a few steps in front of you. You can’t help but think he’s insanely huge, more than anything you could have ever imagined. And the other two guys that also appear on each side of this blond mountain are just as big. Maybe not in muscles and height, but each of them has a powerful energy and stance that immediately makes you succumb to their glorious presence.

Like… fuck. Like fucking heroes! The biggest ones you have ever seen. Ever been in front of.

And you want that. You want that majestic power. That strength that makes everybody believe and trust that they are the best.

"Hello, everyone! It's very nice to meet you finally!" The green haired one greets enthusiastically as the blond mountain rounds him to let him stand in the middle. You also noticed how the blond one and the duo colored haired one stand two steps behind, giving this greenie one space, giving him the lead. "We are very sorry it took us this long to meet, but we hope to make the best of our time together!"

"He's too much of a sunshine," Gouna whispers at you and Zyna, the latter smiling and nodding. You somehow doubt it. Something tells you he is as deadly as his two companions look.

"My name is Midoriya Izuku, hero name: Deku," lots of whispers and gasps from the students are heard as he turns to his right, where the blond mountain stands with his arms crossed over his big chest, a frown deep in his face, "this is Bakugou Katsuki, hero name: Dynamight," some grunts and groans are heard. You even hear a kid say "this is going to fucking hurt", and you definitely feel that. Especially when you see the satisfying smirk on the blond mountain's face. "And, this is Todoroki Shouto, hero name: Shoto."

More whispers and grunts. Some look excited, others are already lamenting getting to class today. But most of the students are terrified. These Big Three look nothing like third year students. They look fucking Pro, and that shit’s scary. Not even your first day as an intern in Gang Orca’s agency made you this uneasy. (And it’s Gang Orca we are talking about!)

"It's Endeavor's kid," Gouna whispers, eyes open wide in excitement looking at Todoroki Shouto. Her biggest dream is to be part of the fire hero agency, but she had told you how that was a mere dream considering how Hero Endeavor only took fire type Quirks in. You feel sad for her, but still encourage her to at least try it. The “NO” was already a given; what harm could be to try for the “YES”?

Of course, you all have heard about the rumors circling the Big Three and their achievements. You are a liar if you say that, even if they are supposedly rumors, their stories don't ignite a spark of hope and admiration over them. However, being in their actual presence is a whole different feeling.

"So today, we are fighting," Midoriya Izuku smiles, but surprisingly enough for everyone except you, the kindness doesn't reach his eyes. His eyes change demeanor and look challenging, a bit scary even. (Ha! You knew it! He isn't as sunshinie as he looks.)

"We did this exact same exercise with the current Big Three of our first year, but this time we decided to give you all a bit of advantage, uniting both classes for the exercise, so you can have the upper hand." The shiny smile doesn't leave his face, and while most around you sigh in relief, you know right then and there is a fake sense of security. It's a trap.

And by the way some unnoticed snorts are heard from behind greenie, it's more than obvious.

This will definitely hurt.

You realize then, as Midoriya Izuku takes his bow and school jacket off and steps back closer to his own classmates, how his other two companions are getting ready. Todoroki Shoto hasn't his jacket nor his school shirt on already, but a sport kind of shirt that accentuates his defined chest, where the sleeves only cover a bit of his shoulders, arms on display. This is definitely strategic for his own quirk, half hot and half cold. You wonder if the material is actually made to bear and endure the changes of temperature in his body, like the ones you wear. Bakugou Katsuki, on the other hand… Holy. Mother. Of. All Might. He now stands with his whole school shirt unbuttoned, chest and muscles and freaking abs on display, sleeves rolled up his forearms, jacket lost somewhere. You haven't actually had time to admire any type of physics in boys since the year started, being completely focused on your goals and dreams. Now, this hot mountain of a man makes you feel things you haven't before. Is that the feeling of butterflies on your stomach as the tingles travel through your body? Fuck, it’s distracting. (Very much so.)

You have to mentally slap yourself to focus. This is not the time to drool over an upperclassmen.

"This is your moment to try your moves and Quirks, they will gladly take them and give you feedback. But remember, this is a sparring, nothing to seek real harm. Have fun, children," Aizawa-sensei speaks as he walks towards the entrance door of the gym and stands there, away from the bloodbath that is about to happen. (If you had to define what betrayal looked like, Aizawa-sensei’s smirk as he stands there looking should be it.)

You, in a very calculated and dissimulated way, grab both of your friends' wrists and pull them back slowly, away from where the Big Three stand. They don't say anything and follow you. After so many group tests passed, you three have learned to work together very well. And with one look, all three of you understood. If you wanted to at least hit one of them, you would have to be a team. No solo fight could win them. And even then, there was no guaranteed win over them. They look, and you're pretty sure they are, very strong.

All three of them crouch a bit, showing they are ready, evil smiles plastered in their faces like they enjoy each and every little sound that showed how scared the two classes were.

How sadistic. You love it.

You so want to fight at least one of them, one on one. But you know you don't have a chance to win moving on your own. Yet.

"Should we go first?" Deku suggests, seeing how no young student is brave enough to approach.

It's not that you are not brave. You're not stupid enough to volunteer for death first.

Dynamight and Shoto look at each other for a moment before looking back to the front, both smirking, and then the blond mountain yells, "FUCKING DIE, EXTRAS!"

A blast clouds everyone's sight for a moment, before you have to jump to the side as Shoto slides with his ice way too close to you. And then it's chaos. Quirks and fights are seen and heard around. And fuck, you have to dodge Shouto's ice three more times. Not to mention his fucking fire.

Your best friends and you remain as far from the Big Three as you can. Gouna got caught by a little piece of ice from Todoroki on her right cheek, cutting it a bit. Zyna, on the other hand, in these kinds of environments gets anxious, moving rapidly on her spot, needing release to do something in her fastness tempo. You… you get calculating and observing. Everyone around is losing against the Big Three. They are too strong, too big. Students are falling to the ground like levees, no matter how strong some of their Quirks are. These three professionals know what they are doing and how to do it.

It's going to take more than just guts to confront them.

Then you see it. Shoto is standing close to Dynamight. And if he moves, he comes back closer to the blond as fast as he can. Oh. Are they guarding each other's backs? Your eyes travel around the gym until you find Deku on the other side of the gym, fighting at least a dozen of the students, who are trying to get their one on one sparring. Of course, none of them win, other than detailed observations from the one third of the Big Three and a punch that knocks them out.

An idea then surges in your head. The one creating way too much chaos is Bakugou Katsuki. Maybe, just maybe, if there's a way to distract Todoroki Shouto, you could have a chance to at least try to take Dynamight out.

Alright, maybe not completely out, but at least a punch or two. That would be satisfying enough.

Your eyes travel to your two best friends, and somehow –even though none of you have any telepathic Quirk– you all know what to do.

You three high five together before running to different parts of the gym. You run towards the build up rocks behind and explode some to create more small and medium ones. While doing this, Zyna is smartly distracting both third year students. Running, flying around them to just annoy them as they try to attack her with their Quirks, which is impossible to target her for how fast she is. Once you're done, Gouna is right there, arm expanding to create like a catapult to throw the rocks in their direction.

"Hey!" Deku yells, but he's been held back by his own fights to do anything. It's enough though to grab his other two classmates' attention.

It's your turn to smirk now at their surprised expression, excitement driving your whole system.

Bakugou's eyes find yours as you say, "Now you fucking die."

The rocks fly their way faster than they expect. Both of them fire at them to disintegrate the rocks into ash. And that's exactly what you wanted to happen. The ash creates a wall of smoke that won't let them see either of you.

Zyna helps Gouna to run fast towards Todoroki Shouto so she could evolve him with her elastic arms and legs, putting him out of the fight. One down.

And you… Fucking. Damned. Shit. Why do you always pick the hardest and most difficult fights? You don't know. But you always win. So, could you win against this big mountain?

Only one way to know…

The smoke helps you disguise yourself in it, but you can feel his careful and ready at all times stance. So you play. A spark of explosion from your ice here, and he answers with another of his own fire one. Creating more smoke. Funny. Another spark of your ice there, and he answers again, groaning in annoyance and pain when a sudden spark of your ice finds his left forearm.

"FUCK! FACE ME, YOU LITTLE SHIT!"

You chuckle maliciously from behind him, right at the moment your ice explosions hit the back of his knees. You're not stupid to even think that you'll be able to win a one on one. You need the advantage in height at least.

How's the saying goes? If the mountain won't come to Muhammad, then Muhammad must go to the mountain… Or well, in this case, you'll make Bakugou Katsuki, a.k.a. Hero Dynamight come to you.

Before Bakugou inevitably falls after that cold blast against the back of his knees that unbalanced him, he tries turning around and shooting whomever it's being a pain in his ass. He doesn't count with the knowledge of how small you are compared to him that you fit perfectly in between his stretched arms that are ready to shoot.

As he falls back, your crazed smile is the last thing he sees before an explosion of white and cold happens just in his goddamn face.

A hard and strong thud is heard as the smoke around finally dissipates, giving one impressive image that leaves everyone around stoic and in silence.

Bakugou Katsuki is laying on the floor. You're kneeling on his big chest, hands with spreading cold smoke, like snow, right at his face. His expression is one of complete taken aback and surprised. Like, he can not believe what just happened, as the smirk it's still on your face.

"Who's the fucking extra now?"

You're both inhaling rapidly, trying to bring your breathing back to normal. Your eyes won't leave his, completely enraptured in his deep ruby color, filled with so much fire it feels like he's trying to melt you. (And you would, if these were other circumstances.)

You then stand up and step back from him, smiling. You fucking won! And against this enormous and angry mountain! Fuck yeah!

He’s still lying on the floor, looking very surprised, so you laugh as you stretch a hand to help him up. Bakugou Katsuki takes it, a little side smile finally appearing as he shakes his head and stands. Now you definitely have to look up at him. Jesus, he’s way taller now up this close.

Before any of you says something, the annoying voice of Hamata Aiko says, "You're still an idiot," and he punches you on the side, making you literally fly meters away and hit your head with the wall.

The roaring scream of "HEY!" from several people is the last thing you hear before passing out.

When you next wake up, you encounter the kind smile of Recovery Girl.

"Hi, sweetie. How are you feeling? You took one hell of a punch…"

You groan. "Ugh, don't remind me… I'm going to fucking…"

"Language, dear."

"...kill him to pieces!"

She chuckles amused. "Alright, but first, you should rest. Then kick his butt." Her wink makes you smile in content as you relax in the infirmary bed.

"There are people outside waiting for me to report to them. Want them to get in, or should I tell them to come later?"

"It's okay, they can come in," you nod delicately, not wanting a new headache to deal with.

When Recovery Girl said they, you were expecting your two best friends. Not the Big Three entering the room in a hurry, especially the first one, the blond mountain who enters and walks directly at your side.

"How are you, Coldie?" Bakugou Katsuki asks, his big and calloused hand landing over your small one laying on the bed. You pull up an eyebrow at his nickname for you, but don't comment on it.

"I'm fine, Mountain. My left side still hurts a bit, but I have had it worse."

Bakugou Katsuki growls. Literally, like an angry dog.

“That kid was completely out of line,” protests Todoroki Shouto.

You sigh. “It’s Hamata Aiko. He needs to be the center of attention or he snaps.”

“I’ll snap him in two, give me a minute…” You don’t know if Bakugou it’s being serious or not, but the idea makes you snort as Midoriya Izuku exclaims, “Kacchan!” Todoroki just shakes his head and a small curve of a smile in his face.

“He’s being talked down to by Nezu-sensei. What he did… It's not okay at all. I hope he reconsiders his actions.” Midoriya says, in a stern but worried tone.

“What you and your friends did, on the other hand, was pretty impressive,” Todoroki says as both of his classmates nod, Midoriya more enthusiastically.

“I have never seen Kacchan so taken aback!”

“Shut up, nerd!”

“You were smart and fast and careful with all your moves. You took into consideration how different Kacchan was physically compared to you and you brought that to your own advantage! It was the true thinking of a hero in a dare situation! We were all impressed!” Midoriya rambles, his eyes shining now in true awe.

“Not to mention how in sync you and your friends were. I never expected being gripped like that by arms and legs functioning like ropes. It was funny, and smart,” Todoroki also comments while Midoriya nods in agreement.

You feel the tears in your eyes itchy, so you look down in shyness and smile.

“I… I just looked. Midoriya-senpai was on the other side of the gym, being held back by students so I knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything,” you look elsewhere but them, which is the window next to your bed, “and then I looked how Todoroki-senpai and Bakugou-senpai kept being close to each other, clearly looking for each others back, so I thought that the best option was to try and separate them. By looking at Todoroki-senpai using his quirk, I knew he was avoiding close contact combat, so I guessed that was his weakness. At least if you take him by surprise. So, I knew my friends were gonna be able to catch him. Me, on the other hand, I didn’t know what I was gonna do. I just knew I was gonna give my all to win.”

You finish shrugging, taking a deep breath to finally get the courage to look in the way the Big Three are standing.

They all look at you in complete amazement, pleased smiles on their faces.

“Another nerd alert,” Bakugou comments and Todoroki laughs.

Midoriya looks in reprimand in Bakugou’s direction, arms crossed over his chest. “Well, that nerd took you down very easily, without counting the times I also took you down…”

Todoroki then passes an arm around Midoriya’s shoulder in clear partnership as he prepares to pester Bakugou.

“There’s the fact that she is younger than you, Kacchan…” You think Hero Shoto has a death wish.

“I will blow both of your heads off,” Bakugou responds in a growl, pops already sounding from his hands. Both of his classmates snort in amusement.

Oh, yep, they all have a death wish.

“Oh! That reminds me…” Midoriya suddenly changes the subject, “Your Quirk.”

His eyes open wide and look at you in expectation. You tilt your head to the side a bit confused as you put your palm up and then make sparks of blue and white pop as the temperature around you gets colder.

“It’s a lot like yours, Kacchan, but…”

“Cold. Your explosions are cold.” Todoroki says, directing his hand from his cold side closer to your palm so he can feel the sparks.

“Did they discover how it’s produced?” Bakugou asks, looking very serious in your direction. But he isn’t angry, he’s just observing.

You shake your head. “They said it’s a composition of two or more chemicals, but they still can’t find which ones create this type of reaction.”

“That is a very important thing to know. I would investigate a bit if I were you. Knowing your Quirk to the fullest, even the small things, helps you be aware of the possible weaknesses and advantages you can have. That way you can be prepared at all times.” The professional tone in Bakugou’s voice leaves you mesmerized. He is… good. What he’s saying is so true, you haven’t actually thought about it.

“But, the doctors…”

“Doctors sometimes know shit.”

Midoriya physically slaps his own forehead while saying, “Kacchan..”

“He can’t help it. He’s an ass.” Todoroki snorts.

Bakugou decides to ignore them, not before stabbing them with his glare.

“What I’m fucking trying to fucking say,” you laugh at his foul mouth. He smiles a bit in your direction, “is that go beyond. You take the initiative to learn. Don’t wait for the teachers or doctors to tell you who you are.”

You can’t believe the Bakugou Katsuki is actually being nice and giving advice to you.

“You know who you are… Fucking number one, ain’t ya?” You nod smiling as he extends his hand closed in a fist so you can bump yours with his.

Midoriya’s big and proud smile makes you shy. And it's funny when he exclaims, “Plus ultra!”

Everyone laughs.

And, boy… Did you go plus ultra.

a.n; this will have a part two. 😉💥♥️❄️

978 notes · View notes

countcvnt · 10 months ago

Text

Experiment

Chapter One: Scrambled

[Poly!TF141/Fem!Reader]

Summary: Your memory is hazy, almost nonexistent, after being plucked out of a safe house and experimented on for months. When you're finally rescued you don't remember the people closest to you. Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (not much else this chapter), me using an english to scottish translator, not beta read Word Count: 3.3k A/N: Had this silly idea and turned it into a serious/angsty fic. I hope you all will like it as much as I do! Also, Reader has a call sign! It's Ace. If you prefer, you can read it here on AO3

Your eyes are heavy, your body burns, and you can't stop shaking. You aren't even sure of where you are. Your eyes are trained ahead of you, looking at what you assume is a two way mirror. A scientist is standing to the side of you messing with some needles and medicines. Your half lidded eyes cut towards him and you see a thick blue substance in a syringe.

“What's that?” You croak, voice hoarse.

“Hm?” The scientist doesn't even look at you, “curious now, are we?” He asks, pulling the syringe up and turning to you. He doesn't answer your question though, not in a way you would like. “We are about to figure out what this is.”

‘We’. Your stomach flips. He didn't even seem to know what it was. You accept your fate. You have from the very beginning. You don't know how long you've been part of this ‘program’, and to you, it didn't matter anymore. The only thing that matters is trying to get out alive. No one seemed to be coming for you. No one has in all of the days you've been hidden away. You didn't expect anyone to save you now. So, you had decided to save yourself. Figuring out how to do that was becoming difficult though.

You know that behind that two way mirror are a bunch of guards. You know they're heavily armed. You know, no matter what they have juiced you up with, you aren't beating a bunch of armed men. So, you sit idly. Letting them poke and prod and decide you are going to wait until the perfect opportunity shows itself. You just have to hold on until it does.

A loud alarm suddenly rings throughout the building and you cover your ears, flinching. The scientist seems more agitated than anything. He doesn't seem as bothered as you are, by any means.

“Guards!” He calls out, looking towards the large mirror. “Guards?” He questions.

He puts a finger up at you, asking for you to wait a minute. As if you have any other choice. A loud bang comes from outside the room and chills run up your spine. The guard walks towards the door and he peeks out. He quickly shuts and locks the door before returning back to you. He scurries over towards the metal stand beside your seat. He grabs the syringe and picks it up.

Something clicks in you. The alarms are still blaring and the guards seem to be gone to check it out. You watch as the syringe comes towards you, headed right for your neck. You move faster than you're used to, and grab the man’s hand and push him back. A lot harder than you had meant to. He slides back and hits the wall. The syringe does not leave his hand.

You rush towards the door. You wiggle the door knob and try to rip the door open. It doesn't budge. You turn your head back and see the scientist steadying himself. Fear kicks in.

“Help!” You scream, slamming your fists into the door. “Please, help me!”

“That was really stupid,” the man behind you says. “No one can hear you, no one is coming to save you. They haven't yet, have they?”

Tears prick your eyes. You turn back around and your back hits the door.

“Y'know, I'm going to be honest.” He stalks towards you. “I know they picked you because you're so… compliant. But really? I think that big guy with the mask would have been a better choice.”

That stings. “Who?”

“Which one?”

“Both.”

“You know I can't give out classified information. But if this works, I promise, you'll know everything. As for the other guy? I'm surprised you don't know who I'm talking about. But honestly, after all the brain scrambling you've had done to you, I understand how you don't remember him…”

You lose it. Something in you snaps. You lunge forward and grab the man. The both of you tussle briefly. Until you get him pinned. Your body slams into his and you hold him down. You raise your fist and bring it down, slamming it into his jaw. Screams, pleas fall from his lips. He's begging for you to quit. But you don't. You, at that moment, decide you are going to do that to every single person who has harmed you, who caused this.

The door behind you blows open, but you don't falter. Your fists continue to slam into the scientist’s face. Until you hear someone with a Scottish accent say your name. You freeze. You turn to find a man in the doorway, his eyes wide. You furrow your brows when he whispers your name again. You move to get up, without thinking about the man below you. You don't realize he's moving. His hand comes up and the needle is pressed into your neck. Whatever the liquid was is quickly administered into your bloodstream.

You hear your name again, louder this time, but you fall to the side, eyes too heavy to hold open. Your head slams into the now bloodied white tile and you're out.

So much for escaping. _____________________________________ You wake up to beeping. A sound you had grown accustomed to recently. You feel monitors hooked up to you, and an IV in your arm. You twitch ever so slightly, every muscle in your body contracting. And then it hits.

Anger.

Your eyes snap open. Your legs swing over the side of the bed. You rip every single monitor off of you, the IV flying across the room. The monitor begins to beep loudly and as you rush towards the door, exiting the isolated room, an alarm blares. You flinch momentarily, but do not let the sound stop you. You are looking for someone, anyone to give you a hint of what's going on. Nothing around you looks familiar. But from all the ‘brain scrambling’, that's normal. You're used to not knowing as much as you figure you used to.

A man in a bucket hat turns the corner, rushing towards what can only assume is you. You let out a low growl and begin to sprint. Your body slams into his and the both of you are sent sliding across the floor. You grab his vest and lower yourself to him, all of your weight holding him down. “Where the fuck am I?”

He's looking at you with confused eyes. He doesn't make any sudden movements. He immediately presents himself as a friend, not a threat. You squint and then see someone else coming around the corner.

“Price! Oh my-” the young man freezes. He says your name and your world is instantly rocked.

You haven't heard your name in god knows how long. The Scottish man had called out for you earlier, but before that? You really can't think of a time when someone had called you something other than some experiment number. “Who are you?” You hiss.

You feel the man under you tense up. He swallows hard and he says your name this time, slow and soft. He isn't showing any signs of wanting to throw you across the room or knock the shit out of you. You take it he isn't a threat and shift.

“You don't remember me?” The man in the ball cap asks, brows furrowed. “You don't remember us?”

Your heart jumps into your throat. You push yourself off of the man below you and you stand up. You brush yourself off and watch as he stands up. He radios someone to cut off the alarm and it's promptly stopped. You are thankful for that. You stand in the hall awkwardly and watch him and the other, younger man talk to each other with facial expressions.

“You're probably hungry,” the man in the bucket hat turns towards you, “how about we go get you some food?”

You aren't stupid, you know that also entails speaking with them about everything you just went through. Despite not wanting to talk, you nod. You are hungry and haven't had an actual meal in possibly months. The man reaches out to touch your lower back, to lead you to wherever he wants to go. You flinch away from him, everything in you tensing. You can tell it's a reflex. A habit. He's used to doing that. Your eyes scan him and you're searching your brain for everything, anything about him. But there's nothing.

“Sorry.” Is all he says. He leaves it at that. “Gaz,” he looks away from you and towards the other man. “Please go grab some food and meet us back at room 2B.”

“Yes, sir.”

The tension is palpable. You want to run. Fast. You can. You know you can. But something is keeping you tethered there. You follow a couple feet behind the man who had yet to introduce himself and keep thinking about ‘Gaz’. Your mind is reeling. You keep thinking about his name, his face, everything. You close your eyes tight and inhale sharply.

“Kyle.” It's all you say. It stops you dead in your tracks. Your eyes open and your breathing is heavy. “His name is Kyle.” Your breathing is suddenly ragged. You can't catch your breath and feel like everything is crumbling in on you. You fall to your knees and try to keep yourself from wailing. “I don't even know your name!” You whisper to keep yourself from sobbing. Your voice cracks.

“Price. John Price.” He drops in front of you. He reaches for your bicep. You don't flinch away this time. “Hey,” his voice is low, “look at me.” Your eyes cut up to him. “We're gonna help you through this. I promise.” You nod. You want to trust him. You need to. You feel like you can. You inhale slowly and Price helps you up. “We're going to go to room 2B, you're going to eat some breakfast, and we're going to ask you some questions.”

You nod and start following Price again. You make it to the room in silence and Price opens the door for you. You walk in and find four beige walls, a table, and four chairs. Nothing else. Until you look in the corner of the room and find a little camera. You lock onto it and squint.

“Why?” You point at it.

“Oh,” Price walks in and closes the door behind him, “it’s protocol. Security and all.”

“Fair enough.” You sit down at the table and look at the Price. “You gonna sit?”

Price holds onto his vest and leans against the table. “Not yet.”

You shrug. “Suit yourself.” Your stomach growls. You touch it through the thin white shirt you're wearing. “You think Gaz will be here soon?”

With that, a knock comes from the other side of the door. Two knocks, a pause, and another knock. Price opens the door and Gaz walks in. He has a tray filled with food and you are growing antsy. He sits across from you and slides the tray towards you. You try to not immediately dig in, but you can't help it. You grab a glazed donut first and begin to devour it.

“Oh,” you pause your munching, “thank you, Kyle.”

Gaz freezes. His eyes widen and he turns towards Price. It's your turn to freeze. You look up at him mid bite and blink. Gaz motions towards you and asks, “Did you tell her my name.”

“No.” Price shakes his head.

“You remembered?” Gaz seems ecstatic. “What else do you-”

“Nothing.” You snap. “I don't remember a damn thing.” You huff as you move onto the muffin on the tray. You unwrap it and begin to devour the sweet. “All I know,” You speak through bites, “is that I was locked up for God knows how long and they were experimenting on me-”

“Four months.” Gaz speaks quietly.

“Huh?” You question him. “How do you know?”

“We looked for you when you disappeared. It was four months ago when they got you. You really don’t remember anything?”

“Like I said,” You huff, “I just know they were juicing me up.” Before they can question you further, a light bulb goes off in your head. “Wait.” You squint at them, “The Scottish one. Where is he?”

They tense up. Gaz talks first, “You remember Soap?”

“Huh?” You cock your head. “Is that his name? He’s the one that found me. I assume he’s here. Or did he not…” You trail off.

“No, he’s here…” Price begins, “…We don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“Oh.” You shrug. “I guess that makes sense. How am I supposed to, uh, assimilate without being overwhelmed. I mean, why don’t we just rip that band aid off?”

“Trust me,” Price locks eyes with you, “we do not need to rip that band aid off right now.”

“Okay, okay,” You put your hands up. “Do you wanna ask your questions now?” _____________________________________ “This cannae be healthy,” Soap looks at Simon.

Simon shrugs, “Don’t care.” He’s watching the cameras closely.

“Thay aren't even in th' room yit! Ye'r peepin' an empty room!” Soap’s eyes move from the screen and back to Simon.

Simon’s eyes cut from the screen and to Soap, “Shut it. Price wants us to stay away from her for now. He didn’t say we couldn’t do this.”

As he says that, the door of the room opens. Price is visible first. And then, another figure walks in. You. Simon and Soap both tense. You look directly at the camera and point, asking why it’s there. You’re so clear. Soap’s heart jumps. Simon shifts.

“She remembers Gaz’s name.” Simon speaks through gritted teeth.

“A'm sure that's a targeted attack against ye, Ghost.” Soap is trying to find humor in this situation. He’s grasping for straws.

Simon is not enjoying it. “Shut the fuck up, Johnny.” Simon growls.

Soap focuses back on the screen and notices you aren’t even sure how long you’ve been gone. As Gaz gently tells you four months, Simon grumbles the amount of time at the same time.

“If Price doesn’t wanna overwhelm her, why the fuck is Gaz in there.” Simon is seething. “Why can’t we all be in there.”

Simon shuts his mouth as you say they had been juicing you up. He tenses. Soap does the same. They both need to know what it means. Simon feels like he’s going to combust. His eyes narrow once you mention Soap. Soap looks like he’s about to jump with joy, until he realizes you don’t actually remember him. Not past him saving you.

“Fuck this,” Simon pushes past Soap. “I'm going in there.”

“Hey! Price said-” Soap starts. He doesn't finish. “Fine-” he rushes out behind Simon. He guesses they're just going to bust into the room and Simon is going to make you remember. He isn't quite sure what Simon has planned really. But he decides he can't sit in the security room and just watch. He needs to see you.

So does Simon. _____________________________________ You reach for a fork for your eggs and lean back in your seat, plate in hand. You relax (as much as possible) and you look at Gaz and Price. You are studying them. Really digging into their features. You want to remember so badly. You have no reason to trust that they used to know you, a part of you is ready to attack in case they are lying. But most of you trusts them. How else would you remember Kyle’s name?

“Listen,” Price inhales sharply, “we want to help you, without overwhelming you. We need to know what you know.”

“Listen,” You mimic his tone, “I don’t know what you aren’t getting. I remember nothing, nada, zilch.”

“Okay,” Gaz interjects, “What’s your last memory?”

You're sent into deep thought. You place your hand on your chin and look off. “Well-” You begin, “I remember-”

The door of the room busts open. You tense, ready to pounce. Your palms hit the table and you stand up straight. The fork clangs against the ground. Two men walk into the room. The one who saved you and-

Words play in your head over and over again. ‘I think the big guy with the mask would have been a better choice.’ For a moment, your world is completely rocked. ‘I’m surprised you don’t know who I'm talking about.’ Your eyes lock with the large beast of a man. His eyes soften. Briefly. You swallow hard.

The entire room is silent. Until you open your mouth. “He wanted you…”

“What?” Soap is the first to question you.

“The scientist, the one doing the experiments on me-” You are tense again “-he didn’t want me.” Your head hurts. You place your hand on your forehead and groan. You are thinking too hard. Remembering too much.

“Hey,” Price motions for you to sit down, “it’s alright.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Ghost,” Price looks over his shoulder, “not right now.”

Ghost stiffens. He doesn’t say anything else. You sit down and inhale slowly. Your eyes move from the floor, past Price, and they hit Ghost. You feel something stir inside you. Like your emotions know more than your brain does. You want to scream. Every single man in that room seems to think so highly of you, and you don’t even remember them.

“I think I need to sleep.” Your voice is a whisper.

You don’t know the last time you got a good rest. You figure sleeping will help you. Price begins to grab for you, before freezing. You lean into him, letting him help you up. Price moves past the men and you tag along beside him.

“I’m going to show you where your room is. If you need anything, please let one of us know. But for now, we’ll leave you alone.” You are led down the hall and towards the barracks. It’s silent between the two of you, until you reach your room. “You have this room to yourself. I had some things rearranged, if it needs to be changed, and you aren’t comfortable alone, let me know.”

You nod at him. “Thank you. For everything. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“0600 sharp.” Price begins to leave.

“Wait,” You stop him. “You don’t happen to have my phone, do you?”

Price turns back to you. “No, that was not recovered. But, we can get you a new one. I’ll work on that while you rest.”

You nod. You head into your room and close the door behind you. You look around. There are two beds. You groan at the fact you can’t remember who used to be your bunk mate. You’re scraping through your brain, really searching for just an inkling of a memory. But… Nothing. Nothing at all comes to your mind.

Nothing about the four men convinced that you know them, anyway.

You lay down in bed and cover up. It’s not the most comfortable bed you’ve ever been in, but it is the most comfortable bed you’ve laid on in the last four months. Your head hits the pillows and you close your eyes. It takes longer than you’d like to go to sleep, but not as long as you expect it to take. You only hope you don’t dream of anything at all. You can’t be that lucky. _________________________________ “Price!” Simon shouts at the captain. His face contorted with anger and pain, and he is more glad than ever that they can’t see him through his balaclava. “What the fuck was that? We need to know-”

“No,” Price stops him immediately. “We do not need to stress her out further. We will figure this out eventually, on her time.” Price reassures his team. “You did not see the look in her eyes, the way she tackled me to the floor-”

“She what…?” Soap tenses.

Simon bristles instantly. He’s seething again. “What do you mean?”

“Ghost,” Gaz starts, “I know you want to know what happened. We all do.” He’s trying to get through to him. “But something is not right. The way she easily took Captain Price down- That wasn’t the Ace we know.”

“Of course!” Simon growls, “She was gone for four months, being poked and prodded-”

“Ghost,” Price interrupts, inhaling sharply, “she pinned me down and I could not get up. They did more than poke and prod at her. They-”

It clicks. “They were making soldiers… Enhanced soldiers.” Simon whispers. His face contorts again, this time with confusion, “Why did they pick her?” He remembers what you said. ‘He wanted you.’ Simon momentarily feels a pit in his stomach. “Ace couldn’t have been the only one… There’s no way they did this experiment on one person.”

“She was the only one at the underground compound.” Soap shifts. “Maybe she was the only success?”

Simon is stuck on why they picked you. It’s not like you weren’t capable. But you were never on the field fighting for your life. You were always on the sidelines, helping them get into the places, helping them get information. How had they spotted you and decided you were the best candidate? He knows that question is going to keep him up at night.

“Come on,” Price brings Simon back to reality. “We got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

#ghost x reader #john price x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish #john price #cod x reader #cod #call of duty #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #captain john price #x reader

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velvetvexations · 6 months ago

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I'm a trans woman. You need to stop being weird about men.

The idea that trans women should be allowed in single sex spaces for cis women is completely contradicted by the man vs. bear discourse. Ignore that I keep going back to the meme - maybe it's still doing numbers, I don't know, but it's good shorthand either way. If you think men are inherently suspicious and dangerous, ask yourself: why does that not apply to trans women?

What, exactly, does a trans woman do to make herself different from cis men? How are you not advocating a belief in people being tainted by the way they were raised* which can only logically apply to trans women as much as it does cis men? It boggles the mind how, if that's a true concept, one could simply self-identify out it. Yet, the way transradfems talk, literally the only thing that distinguishes an AMAB better-than-bear from an AMAB worse-than-bear is that the former says they're totally better than a bear and you should take their word for it, which if men are really Like That should be of little comfort or security.

Some, even, will make impassioned defenses of butch trans women, which as a butch trans woman is great. But then they'll go on about how evil men are, and how innocent and victimized trans women are, and I wonder, what, exactly, differs an especially butch trans woman from a man to them? If, like me, a trans butch woman doesn't always wear clearly feminine clothes, has body hair, maybe even a shade of facial hair, and doesn't at all try to train her voice, are you going to be uncomfortable with her right up until she realizes she forgot to put their pin on and you see the she/her? Apparently that flips the switch from someone you desperately don't want to be alone with to someone you're totally fine undressing in front of?

All that sounds like TERFism, which is exactly the problem. The transradfem version of reality is one where TERF talking points are completely logical, because they're both based in the same radfem reality. That's not my reality, YOU have constructed a system perfect for them to operate in, that their ideology is fantastic for pointing out errors of reasoning in, as if it was deliberately crafted by them to be deconstructed. I would not at all be surprised if that's the origin of a lot of trans radical feminism, a psyop to make the trans community weaker with logic twists that TERFism can swing through like the Gordian Knot.

If you accept man vs. bear, TERFism is the only logical conclusion. If you don't, as I don't, then it isn't.

The only alternative is that you think being a woman is the only thing anyone should be and "choosing" to be a man is morally inferior. Which I shouldn't have to tell you is horrifying. It's also again incongruous with at least your defense of butch trans women - what exactly defines a "man" and a "woman" when a butch trans woman doesn't have to try to pass at all? You are literally saying all of this, gender, transmisogyny, misogyny, hinges entirely on pronouns and a difference of two letters in the name of what they call themselves, someone is dangerous or not depending on if they go by he/him.

TERFs will see this and be like "yeah! exactly!" BUT MY POINT IS USING THAT TO SHOW YOU SHARE THE SAME FOUNDATIONAL LOGIC AS THEM. If you don't want TERFs to have a point then you can stop accepting their worldview any day now! Come join me and frolic freely where we think TERFs are wrong!

*socialization is real and the idea pre-dates TERFs who incorrectly use the idea that to say that because a trans woman may or may not** have been pressured by external forces to play sportsball she must be hardcoded to be a sex offender, which is completely ridiculous

**no one can be said to have the same experiences, it's a generalization

#trans radical feminism #transandrophobia #transmisogyny #discourse

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satorusugurugurl · 6 months ago

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The Headboard

Summary: when you find yourself in a compromising position, you’re lucky that you’re a hot neighbor who just so happens to be a firefighter, is just next door.

Pairing: firefighter!Toji Fushigurux AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 2,935

Warning: Language, smut, p-in-v, mentions of sex toys, degradation, name calling, unprotected smut.

A/N: A genuine fear I had often thought about when people tell me this is what they do. Plus, the DILF vibes were strong today.

Fushiguro Toji had no complaints about having you as a neighbor. You’re kind and quiet; you even watched Megumi for him if he needed a sitter. You would invite him and his son to your apartment for dinner, or he would do the same for you. The whole of being neighbors became friendship, and friendship turned into longing. Toji hated it when you would bring home someone who wasn’t good enough for you. He would spoil you rotten but didn’t want to ruin your friendship.

Nothing would be worse than an interaction after an awkward one-night stand that ended with you both not talking to each other because he would be the first to admit that he liked having you over for dinner. He enjoyed it when you came over with cookies or watched a movie with him and his son. If things were to become awkward or standoffish with you, that might be one of the worst things to happen to them in a very long time.

So, he would wait a bit to see how things would progress with you. Maybe once the lingering glances and the accidental brushes of your hands would turn into a little bit more. Perhaps once he better understood you and how you might feel, consider telling you he wanted to be more than friends.

Those thoughts ran through his mind as he sprawled out on his couch, not paying any attention to the movie on the television. Megumi was at a sleepover with his best friend Yuuji. He was all alone, not being stuck at the firehouse on call, filling his quiet evening with boredom.

Maybe he should call and ask if you want to come over; you could both watch a movie to make the most of a boring night. Just as he reached for his phone to call you, your name and profile picture popped up on his phone. Toji answered the phone with a slight grin, holding it against his ear.

“Hey, I was just about to call you. Do you wanna come—”

“Toji, you’re a firefighter, right?”

Your voice sounded breathless, almost with a hint of timidness. “Yeah, you know that. Why did you start a grease fire next door? Do not try to put it out with water; smother it with some flour.” You laughed only to be cut off with a whine.

“Uhm, uh—no, not that.” you sighed, “Y-you've seen some weird stuff, right? Like helped people?”

“Yeah, despite the title firefighter, I’m also medically trained and have helped many people in different scenarios. Why, what happened?”

The silence for a long moment told you to think that maybe, just maybe, the line disconnected before he heard him wince. “I-I need your help. But you have to promise you’ll never tell a soul about this.” A mixture of different emotions currently course through every nerve of his body. He’s concerned that you’re hurt, and his interest is peaked as to what you got yourself into this time.

“Of course, you have my word. I promise I won't say anything.”

“Good,” cloth rustles in the background, “you can come over right now. You still have my spare key. You still have my spare key.”

“Yeah, you gave it to me to water your plants that always die.”

“I don't have a green thumb sue me! Now please grab your medical bag and get your ass over here!”

The tone of your voice had him getting off the couch in a snap.” Alright, be there in a sec.” without you even having to ask, Toji grabbed his medical bag and your spare key.

You're nowhere to be found when he steps inside your apartment. “Hey?” He calls out, smirking slightly. “Fire department.” A squeak resonates from the bedroom.

“In here!” you call out, voice shaky, “b-but before you come in, I will emphasize that if you tell anyone! And I mean anyone about this, I will rip your balls off and shove them down your throat!”

Toji almost tells you not to threaten him with a good time, but he knows you from the whine that leaves the room. You were obviously in pain, and we’re taking this very seriously. Instead of making lighthearted jokes and conversation to push your buttons, he put on the best professional face before entering your room. The second he looks at your bed, his jaw drops to the floor in shock.

You’re naked from the waist down, your body bent forward, your ass pressed against the headboard. Your knee must’ve gotten stuck between the headboard and your mattress from how you're bent. Making it impossible for you to move in the predicament you found yourself in. Your cheeks are flushed as you averted your gaze, not daring to look at him. Toji was a smart guy; he was able to put two and two together.

Someone was having some alone time, and things had taken a terrible turn.

“What happened?” Toji clears his throat as he trots forward, opens his medical bag, and slips on some black latex-free gloves.

You want to crawl under your bed and cry out in embarrassment. How could you have put yourself in such an embarrassing situation? It was bad enough that you had gotten yourself stuck, and it was ten times worse now that the man you’ve had a crush on since you moved into the building was here helping you! But you would rather him find out what a size queen you were than call the fire department.

“I uhm, the uh—” you motion back to your headboard where your thrusting toy was stuck to your headboard. “It hit—my cervix hard, and I jumped, and my knee slipped between my mattress and my headboard.”

“Huh—okay, just try to relax a bit. I will look into getting that knee out first.” He gets on the bed behind you before gently grabbing your knee. As he does, the movement causes you to slide further down the toy, causing it to hit your cervix for a second time. The sharp, pleasurable pain can be felt from the tips of your toes to your head as you let out a pained moan. “Sorry.” Toji’s voice sounds more profound and more fierce. That you had never heard before; it was a voice that made every nerve in your body slowly awaken with lust.

“I-It’s okay—”

He gently moves your leg again, freeing it slightly. “So,” he goes with the questions when you were sure he was going to ask, “your boyfriend busy or something?” His question held no humor to it; instead, it was pure curiosity, and his voice made the nerves that reignited tingle with anticipation.

“What boyfriend? Who said I had a boyfriend?”

Toji glances at the curve of your ass, admiring the arch of your back, before he goes back to gently moving your leg. “Oh, I just assumed a pretty thing like you had one.” His hand gently grumps your ass as he maneuvers your leg a little bit more to the left, freeing it another inch.

“Do you honestly think if I had a boyfriend, I would’ve stuck a dildo to my headboard?”

“Hey, to each their own. So, no boyfriend?”

“Yep, single and ready to mingle. I let my friend convince me to try this position. She said it would liven up my solo sessions.” For as long as you can remember, the only way you masturbated was on your back. When you had mentioned this to your friends, they had been mortified, telling you there was more than one way to get yourself off. You so stupidly let them talk you into buying this stupid, expensive dildo and decided to give it a shot. That shot ended up with your knee stuck between your mattress and the wall and having to rely on your neighbor to help you.

“Hm,” Toji gave your ass a firm squeeze before gently pushing you forward off the toy a couple of inches, drawing out the sweetest sounds from your throat. “Would now be an inappropriate time to ask you out?”

A choked sound of shock cut off the moan that had begun to rise in your throat. There was no way he had just asked you out on a date—your hot neighbor. The sexy firefighter next door asked you on a date. Was this a prank? Oh god, why did he have to ask you out now, of all times? Despite the searing embarrassment, you can’t help but giggle, turning to look back at the massive man.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I think you’re hot and good with my kid; plus, I can make you feel so much better than this stupid toy.”

Heat began to pool in your abdomen as you continued to watch him carefully. “Oh, is that so?” he pulls his hand away from the fat of your ass, only to bring it back down, slapping it, making you help in pleasure and surprise.

“It's a fucking promise.” The tip of his pink tongue runs over the scar on his lip. “So, dinner?”

You laugh breathlessly, throwing your head back as he massages the sting out of your ass. “Would you be opposed to me counteroffering that?” Toji hand on your leg gently moves another inch, freeing you from the abyss you had been stuck in.

“Well, that depends on what your counteroffer is?”

The muscles in your leg burn with relief as you stretch it out, getting the blood flowing to it. Toji watches with dark eyes as you slowly in yourself off of the 9-inch toy that’s coated in your slick arousal. The sight of the coral-colored silicone covered in your wetness has his throat so dry it hurts.

“My counteroffer is that we skip the first date, and you help me with my current problem. You are a firefighter. It’s your job to help people.”

“Oooh, are you asking me to fuck you right now?”

“Maybe~ if I were to ask you to do just that, what would you say?” When you turn your head to look at him, your face is quickly snatched in his hands. His hand grips your chin tightly towards his mouth.

“I would say it’s about fucking time.”

His lips slam against yours in a symphony of desperation and need. He quickly shifts behind you, pushing you towards the center of the bed and away from the cavern you had found yourself trapped in moments before. The entire time he moves you, his lips never leave yours. It’s a messy open-mouth kiss, with tongue and groping hands as he releases his grip on your face, panting heavily as a string of saliva connects your lips.

“Do you know how hard it’s been trying to control myself? I try so hard to be a good, friendly neighbor. One that doesn’t come off as a creep.” he positions himself behind you down his gray sweatpants, spraying his thick fat cock. “Let me tell you, it’s been fucking hard; you are so goddamn fucking beautiful. Smart, funny, a great cook.”

You grip the sheets underneath you as he continues his confession. He told you how much he admired your strength and beauty. The pure admiration and raw need that’s in his voice makes your pussy clench, your arousal seeping out of your twitching hole. God, you knew you liked him, but knowing he was so damn bad for you, made you want him even more.

“I need you to fuck me.” There’s no doubt in your words that's precisely what you wanted. The word ‘want’ isn’t even included in your sentence! You didn't like this, and you needed it on a physical level.

“Yeah~? Need me to fuck that tight slutty hole?” His hands connect with your ass again, so smacking it hard, leaving a faint hand print in its wake. “Is that what you need, baby~?”

“Yes!” you shake your ass in front of him, dropping down low, revealing your wet hole to him as if trying to convince him to hurry the fuck up.

“Mhmm, that's a good little slut; tell me exactly what she wants; no, wait, I’m sorry, what she needs.” he grabs his thick cock in one hand. Toji held his cock, smacking it over your pussy. “And she claims that she needs my cock.”

You rock your hips back, fingers digging into the sheets as your chest heaves in anticipation of being filled to the brim by human flesh and not cold silicon. “Yes, please.” Toji tsks behind you giving your pussy, another sharp slap with his cock, the tip snagging at your entrance before he rubs it over your clit.

“Nah, I think you could do better than that. Try again to tell me what it is that you want.”

“I need you!” you cry out loud this time, shutting your eyes and anticipation of him thrusting inside of you, just feeling the head of his cock snag over your clit for the second time. “Please, Toji! Please, please, please.”

Grabbing the base of his thick, heavy cock, he gently presses it over your entrance over your slick hole. “Please, what baby girl~? Use your words, big like pretty little slut you are.” this was an absolute tort. Having your kit in your pussy, teased with nothing but finger-like touches, have you jerking and writhing against the bed.

“Please fuck me, Toji!” you screamed, not having to worry about your next-door neighbor complaining about the noise.

“That's a good girl.” Toji slapped your ass with a snarl, gripping the skin and spreading your cheeks. “I always knew you were a good girl. Always so sweet and friendly, the perfect innocent neighbor next door. but who would’ve thought that you would be fucking a toy against your headboard.” He spits his words before suddenly burying his cock fully into you.

You screamed out loud as his cocked stretched you like you'd never been stretched red d before, sending your eyes rolling back. "Nnngh~! Mmph~ Toji!"

“Fuck-Ngh.” Toji moaned, feeling your walls convulse around him. "You feel so good, baby. Fuck—baby, baby! Shit—being inside of you was so worth the wait!”

“Oooh fuck~!” Toji’s hands press into the middle of your back, pushing your shoulders down further into the mattress, allowing your back to be pushed down, beautifully showing the curves of your body for him. “Just like that, Toji, fuck, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

“Oh, I’m not stopping until you’re crying. Your in need a good dicking down since you weren’t able to finish, I’m assuming.”

“Y-Yes!” You cry out, gripping the sheets tighter as you rock your hips back into his. “Yes, I want to cum so bad~!”

“Oh, I know you do, baby,” Toji smirked as he pushed you by your shoulders down into the bed, thrusting deep and hard.

His cock continues to hit your g-spot and your cervix, but his warm hot tip is nothing compared to the silicone. You had been using it earlier. So your eyes roll back. "Oh fuck! ~!" At this rate, you weren't going to last very long.

“Hoooly fuck.” Toji moaned, feeling your walls flutter around him as your legs started to tremble. "Fuck-Ngh. You’re about to cum. Fuck—baby, baby! Shit--I’m going to fucking fill you up. Is that okay?” he didn’t give you much time to answer as he angled his hips, thrusting precisely against that sponge spot inside of you. The one that had you seeing stars as your orgasm hit you like a freight train.

You whimpered loudly, turning to desperately kiss Toji as you squirted all over cock. "Ah~! Nnngh!!" your eyes rolled back as your body convulsed with the waves of your orgasm.

"Fuck! Fuckfuck—M’ cumming, I—Ahhh ahah—nngh!" Toji doubled over, his forehead pressing into your back as he kept cumming, releasing the months of pent-up desire into you.

He collapsed on top of you quickly, putting his arms out on either side of your smaller frame, bracing his weight upon them in an attempt not to crush you. You painted happily, grinning as you turned your head to stare up at the flushed, sweat-coated man who had fucked you thoroughly. He smirked, his scar stretching as his lips curled up.

His smirk, however, is short-lived as you push back against him, causing him to slip out of you as his back lands against your mattress. As he blankly waters, it allows you to straddle his hips, dribble, drop combined cum, and rub all over his dick as you so lewdly rub your pussy up and down on him. “I hope you have more where that came from because I’m far from being done with you, sir.”

“Hey,” he smirked, putting both his hands behind his head as he watched your position, his cock at your entrance. “Im a firefighter have pretty good fucking stamina. Let’s see what you got.” Little did he know you were a fire that could not so easily be put out. Not that he was complaining.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

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lackadaisycats · 10 months ago

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Hey Tracy! Have you heard about the new Ai called Sora? Apparently it can now create 2D and 3D animations as well as hyper realistic videos. I’ve been getting into animation and trying to improve my art for years since I was 7, but now seeing that anyone can create animation/works in just a mare seconds by typing in a couple words, it’s such a huge slap in the face to people who actually put the time and effort into their works and it’s so discouraging! And it has me worried about what’s going to happen next for artists and many others, as-well. There’s already generated voices, generated works stolen from actual artists, generated music, and now this! It’s just so scary that it’s coming this far.

Yeah, I've seen it. And yeah, it feels like the universe has taken on a 'fuck you in particular' attitude toward artists the past few years. A lot of damage has already been done, and there are plenty of reasons for concern, but bear in mind that we don't know how this will play out yet. Be astute, be justifiably angry, but don't let despair take over. --------

One would expect that the promo clips that have been dropping lately represent some of the best of the best-looking stuff they've been able to produce. And it's only good-looking on an extremely superficial level. It's still riddled with problems if you spend even a moment observing. And I rather suspect, prior to a whole lot of frustrated iteration, most prompts are still going to get you camera-sickness inducing, wibbly-wobbly nonsense with a side of body horror.

Will the tech ultimately get 'smarter' than that and address the array of typical AI giveaways? Maybe. Probably, even. Does that mean it'll be viable in quite the way it's being marketed, more or less as a human-replacer? Well…

A lot of this is hype, and hype is meant to drive up the perceived value of the tech. Executives will rush to be early adopters without a lot of due diligence or forethought because grabbing it first like a dazzled chimp and holding up like a prize ape-rock makes them look like bleeding-edge tech geniuses in their particular ecosystem. They do this because, in turn, that perceived value may make their company profile and valuations go up too, which makes shareholders short-term happy (the only kind of happy they know). The problem is how much actual functional value will it have? And how long does it last? Much of it is the same routine we were seeing with blockchain a few years ago: number go up. Number go up always! Unrealistic, unsustainable forever-growth must be guaranteed in this economic clime. If you can lay off all of your people and replace them with AI, number goes up big and never stops, right?

I have some doubts. ----------------------

The chips also haven't landed yet with regards to the legality of all of this. Will these adopters ultimately be able to copyright any of this output trained on datasets comprised of stolen work? Can computer-made art even be copyrighted at all? How much of a human touch will be required to make something copyright-able? I don't know yet. Neither do the hype team or the early adopters.

Does that mean the tech will be used but will have to be retrained on the adopter's proprietary data? Yeah, maybe. That'd be a somewhat better outcome, at least. It still means human artists make specific things for the machine to learn from. (Watch out for businesses that use 'ethical' as a buzzword to gloss over how many people they've let go from their jobs, though.)

Will it become industry standard practice to do things this way? Maybe. Will it still require an artist's sensbilities and oversignt to plan and curate and fix the results so that it doesn't come across like pure AI trash? Yeah, I think that's pretty likely.

If it becomes standard practice, will it become samey, and self-referential and ultimately an emblem of doing things the cookie-cutter way instead of enlisting real, human artists? Quite possibly.

If it becomes standard industry practice, will there still be an audience or a demand or a desire for art made by human artists? Yes, almost certainly. With every leap of technology, that has remained the case. ------------------ TL;DR Version:

I'm not saying with any certainty that this AI blitz is a passing fad. I think we're likely to experience a torrential amount of generative art, video, voice, music, programming, and text in the coming years, in fact, and it will probably irrevocably change the layout of the career terrain. But I wouldn't be surprised if it was being overhyped as a business strategy right now. And I don't think the immensity of its volume will ever overcome its inherent emptiness.

What I am certain of is that it will not eliminate the innate human impulse to create. Nor the desire to experience art made by a fellow soul. Keep doing your thing, Anon. It's precious. It's authentic. It will be all the more special because it will have come from you, a human.

#art #lackadaisy #technology

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 4 months ago

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Friday night. l Joel Miller

Summary: you were friends who met on Friday night

Warnings: +18, smut, swearing, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, sex with protection (good job!), mentioning masturbation

A/N: this has been on my mind for a few days now. it's not perfect, but i hope you like it. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

"So when? Tell me, tell me, tell me."

You looked at Joel sprawled on your couch, his long legs were lying on the coffee table. This Friday night was definitely not supposed to go like this.

After a hard week, you were craving some relaxation. A hot bath, lotion rubbed into your skin, takeout, and some stupid reality show on TV.

And then he showed up.

Joel Miller showed up at your door, bringing you the food containers you had recently brought him and Sarah dinner in. He had no plans to stop by, in fact Tommy was waiting for him at a bar nearby, but he really didn't feel like going there.

So he stayed. You both ate your Chinese food, sipped cold beer, and watched a show about young and beautiful people trying to date each other. This was your Friday night.

"Y/N, I won't judge you, you know that." Joel continued, digging into the box of food with his chopsticks. "Tell me, when was the last time you had a really good date?"

"A long time ago." You replied, feeling the heat creeping up your neck and chest. "Like... Last year? I mean... I thought it was a good date, but he didn't call after that."

"Really?" Joel looked at you in surprise. "What a fucking idiot!"

"Don't say that, you were part of it." You took a sip of your beer. "I shouldn't have answered your call. You asked me to pick Sarah up from training and sit with her for a while, because you were coming home pretty late."

"Shit!" His brown eyes looked like a scolded puppy. "I'm sorry. But you didn't say anything about me fucking up your date."

You shrugged. "That was a year ago, it's not relevant anymore."

Joel's gaze lingered on you for a moment as he analyzed your words. He never thought that by calling or writing to you, he was intruding on your private life. Or that you had another private life apart from him and Sarah.

You had been friends for a few years. It started with you taking Sarah to her friend's house because he couldn't get away from work. And then everything flew like an avalanche. You always found time for his daughter, and he could always count on your help. Sometimes you brought them dinner, it saved their lives when the projects he was working on completely consumed him.

Joel, however, was not just a taker. Whenever you asked him for help, like when you bought a new dresser or when you had a flat tire in your car - he was the first one at your door.

The fact that you were friends also meant that you gave each other presents for birthdays and holidays. You were good together.

"And you?" your voice tore him away from his thoughts about your date for a moment "When was the last time you did that? Or even better!" a sly smile crept onto your face "When was the last time you slept with a lady?"

Joel cleared his throat. He should have expected that, right?

"Pffff... Ummm... That was a long time ago." he replied, pretending he didn't feel embarrassed at all "You know. I'm a single father, I work a lot..."

"So what?" you wondered "I never thought you were lacking anything. Even more! I think it's a treasure to have a guy who knows how to use a drill. It's quite sexy."

"You think so?" he smiled.

"Sure! If you found a girlfriend, I doubt she'd let me use you like that. Sexy handyman."

"Fuck! Don't make fun of me!"

"I'm not doing that!" you laughed as he threw a pillow at you "You should be at that bar than here with me. You're wasting your potential, Joel."

"I'm where I wanted to be." he replied, reaching for the bottle and taking a few sips. "And you?" you looked up from your fried rice. "When was the last time you slept with someone?"

He immediately noticed that you were embarrassed. It even gave him a little satisfaction.

"I'm sure you've noticed that my love life is a disaster." you replied, trying to smile and seem relaxed. "The only thing that seems to live inside me is my vibrator."

You burst out laughing when those words left your mouth, and Joel chuckled himself.

"Fuck, that's pathetic!" you covered your face with your hands. "What's wrong with us, Joel? We should be fucking some super hot people right now! Any place, in any position!"

"One really nice lady would be enough for me." he put the empty bottle on the table and stretched. "By the way. Last time I was here, I mean when I was fixing your bedroom closet door, I also replaced the batteries in your vibrator. The poor thing was barely breathing."

"Oh! Thank you, I guess..."

"The drawer in the nightstand was ajar." he explained seeing your embarrassment. "I hope you'll think of me when you use it. Fuck, that sounded awful."

"What made you think I'm not doing that yet?"

When his dark eyes landed on you, you tried your best not to burst out laughing. A mixture of emotions and strange thoughts was written all over his face. You were sure that in a little while you'd bite your lip trying to hold back your laughter.

"Shit! We're on some really fucking dangerous ground, babe." He mumbled, shaking his head. "I didn't know you from this side."

"Maybe if you saw me as a woman..." you started, but Joel quickly interrupted you.

"Who else am I supposed to see in you?" he snorted. "I'm afraid that soon you'll run out of things I could fix, and then you'll start taking care of... I don't know, fucking flowers... and I don't know anything about that. You bring dinner to my house, you help me with Sarah..."

"Joel, I think you're doing great with Sarah. She adores you!"

"You know what I mean..." he sighed, scratching his already disheveled hair. "She's a young girl, she needs someone like you around her. But when you finally meet a guy, he's not going to let you spend time with a single father and his teenage daughter, right?"

You put the almost empty box on the coffee table and pulled your legs up onto the couch. You understood what Joel meant. Your friendship was something that required incredibly understanding partners if you wanted it to continue. You probably didn't even think about getting involved with someone else because of this what you both had, because of Joel.

The thought of giving up seeing him, listening to his voice, talking to him or just spending time with him doing such completely ordinary and boring things - God, it was terrifying.

He must have been thinking the same thing, because he suddenly fell silent as if what he had said had taken him out of the conversation.

He hadn't planned on ever telling you what he thought about you, honestly, he was afraid it would make you run away. He couldn't give you much, and he thought that a woman like you deserved everything that was best in the world.

"You know, I don't want you to think that me spending time with you is some form of pity." you began uncertainly, trying to find the right words for what you wanted to say "I really love it. You always make me feel good and in the right place. There's not much more I can do for you."

"You're already doing way too much." Joel's hand stroked your leg in a friendly manner "I guess we both benefit from this, right?"

"I guess so." you replied, smiling "Jesus! This is so awkward!"

"Think about how I feel!" Joel put his arms behind his head and stared at the TV "You have your vibrator, and I have to do it manually!"

You started to giggle, "But you definitely don't think about me then!"

"I don't know what gave you the idea that I don't do it. Fuck, I must have fallen out of practice when it comes to flirting."

"A little." you were still laughing, "But it's sweet, you know. And I'm glad we feel comfortable enough with each other to say things like that."

Joel nodded and shifted uncomfortably on the couch. You both focused your gaze on the TV screen again for a moment, but it had been a while since you had watched this show. Every word Joel said was going through your head. You felt several emotions at once, but they were all really nice.

You thought about how good you felt with this guy who treated you really well, even though you weren't in a relationship. At least not a romantic one.

And then the question came that changed everything that evening.

"Have you ever thought that you and I..." his voice was calm, but you knew he was weighing his words before he let them out. "Have you ever thought about what it would be like if we tried?"

"Tried what?" you asked. You had an idea what he meant, but you wanted to know that you were both on the same page.

"Sleep together. I mean, sex." You nodded. "Really? Fuck! I thought there was something wrong with me."

"Why?! Joel, I've always thought you were a handsome guy. And if it makes you feel any better, I've thought about it more than once. I guess that's why you had to change those batteries."

Your laughter filled the room again. If you both felt any unpleasant pressure, then it had definitely dropped to zero. Joel opened his second bottle of beer and took a sip.

"Would you like to have sex with me?"

"Yeah, I would." you replied, completely unfazed.

"Now?"

"Sure."

You had been feeling it for a while now. Excitement was spreading slowly through your body. In your head, although you fought it, all those images of Joel that you had been trying to hide until now appeared. You imagined him in such sinful situations that you were surprised he didn't see it in your eyes.

"I guess you don't have any condoms?" you made a face and he smiled "Okay, I'll go to the store to buy some."

"But let me check something first. If you let me…”

You moved over to him before he could stand up. When your hand touched his cheek, you both smiled nervously. His stubble tickled your hand gently. He didn't lag behind, his hand found its way to your thigh, stroking it gently.

You were the one who kissed him first. It was wonderful to finally feel his lips on yours. You kissed gently, but when you parted your lips a little, Joel took the initiative and slipped his tongue into your mouth. That was it. A shiver ran down your spine. His tongue caressed you as he deepened each kiss, and his hands quickly and efficiently pulled you onto his lap.

You couldn't stop kissing him, and he returned each kiss with such enthusiasm, as if he had been waiting for it for a really long time. You slid your fingers into his hair and tugged lightly, and Joel groaned quietly. The bulge in his jeans was rubbing hard against your thigh.

"Condoms." he panted. "We need... Fuck..."

"Yeah, I know..." your lips collided again. "Go. Now."

With considerable difficulty, you got off his lap. Your heart was beating like crazy.

"Ten minutes." he said, quickly standing and unconsciously adjusting his jeans, which had become a bit tighter, you giggled. "Don't move from here."

"I won't do that."

He leaned in once more, kissing you hard, and quickly left the apartment.

He came back just as he promised. For a split second you saw uncertainty in his eyes, but when he saw you were waiting for him he immediately brightened up.

"No judging." You said, quickly taking off his shirt "I don't look like those sexy girls from tv shows."

"Shut up!" He silenced you with a kiss as his hands ripped off your shorts "You're a thousand times sexier. I'm afraid I'll come before I get inside you."

"I don't care. We have all night, Joel."

The first time you saw him naked, it was better than anything you had imagined. His strong and wide shoulders, narrow waist and soft belly. His manhood was already hard and ready.

"Jesus, have you seen yourself?" His voice tore you from your whirlwind of thoughts "You look like a million dollars."

His eyes, full of admiration, wandered over your body. You suddenly felt a little embarrassed.

"Oh, don't hide it from me." he groaned as you tried to cover your breasts. "It's you. You're fucking perfect."

His large, warm hands cupped your face as he kissed you slowly. You felt the bed behind you and soon you were lying with him on top of you. It was overwhelming, feeling his weight on you as his lips trailed down your neck, to your sternum, kissing your breasts, nibbling on them gently. You moaned as Joel's mouth captured your nipple, sucking and teasing it with his tongue. One of his hands slid between your thighs and soon you felt his fingers running over your already slick folds.

"Is this for me?" he asked, lifting his eyes and looking at you with appreciation.

Heat crept up to your neck and cheeks. His bedroom eyes made your pussy drool at the sight of him. Joel was clearly delighted by this though.

"Let me make you feel good." he purred, kissing your breast a few times, then moving lower. Fuck. You weren't ready for this. A few kisses on your thighs, the feeling of his stubble brushing against your delicate skin, and then a slow lick of your folds. You closed your eyes, feeling as if all your nerves had gone crazy.

His mouth found the bundle of nerves that made your head spin with every movement of his tongue. Two of his fingers slid inside you, stretching your walls pleasantly. It was incredible to feel him. It seemed as if Joel took incredible pleasure in exploring your body and was quickly learning what you liked. His fingers pushed back and forth as he licked and sucked, and you couldn't manage anything but moans.

"Jesus, you're so beautiful right now, baby." he whispered as your body arched as his fingers touched that spot. "I've imagined you like this so many times. Naked, thighs spread, waiting for me."

"Joel... please..."

"I know, I know, baby." he kissed your thigh tenderly "I can feel you're close. You squeeze my fingers so nicely, suck them into you."

His movements became faster and stronger. You clenched your hands on the sheets feeling like you were losing control over your body.

"Let go, Y/N. I'm here, let go."

And you did. You moaned loudly as you reached your peak, and your legs trembled. It was amazing. He was amazing.

Before you could catch your breath Joel was on top of you again, his beard glistening with your juices, but you didn't mind. You put your hand on his neck and pulled him in, kissing him hard. You felt your taste on his lips. Addictive.

"I want to be inside you." he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours "I want it so bad."

"I want it too. I want to feel you, Joel."

He stood up and reached for the foil package, which he opened with his teeth. You watched as he put on a condom and leaned over you again. His tip slid over your entrance a few times before he slid inside you.

The air escaped your lungs as he pushed his entire length into you, stretching your delicate walls. The stretch felt so good. When his cock was inside you all the way to the base, you both froze for a moment.

"Fuck..." Joel whispered, tearing his gaze away from where he disappeared inside you and looking at your face "You're so tight, baby. You wrap me around so well..."

"And you're so big, I was afraid you wouldn't fit." You giggled and soon all the stress drained from you "I don't think I'll last much longer. It's wonderful to feel you."

"Don't worry, sweetie." His lips kissed yours lightly "Like you said, we have all night. Ready?"

You nodded and Joel pushed, going even deeper. His cock would slide out of you, then return with much greater force. You pulled your legs up to give him easier access. Joel found your hands and held them above your head. It gave him full control, and you didn't mind.

"Fuck. I don't know why we waited so long with this..." he gasped as his hips slammed into yours, the dirty sounds filling your ears. "I've been thinking about you for so long."

"Really? I thought... OOHHHH! I thought you only saw me as a friend..."

"Remember when you came to Sarah's soccer game? In those tight shorts? Fuck! I already wanted to drag you to the truck and fuck you hard."

"Jesus!" you bit your lip, Joel hitting exactly where you wanted him to, "When you were helping me with the air conditioning."

"What about that?"

"It must have been a million degrees here. I was melting, and then I saw your shirt lift up, exposing part of your lower back. Damn, I was waiting for you to go away so I could reach for that fucking vibrator."

"Fuck!" Joel hid his face in your hair, "You're going to kill me. Tell me you're close, I can't hold out much longer."

You were already on the edge, his cock pushing in exactly where you needed it. He let go of your hand, gripping your hip tightly. His movements were becoming increasingly erratic and unpredictable.

"Joel, I'm so close... so close..." you moaned.

His mouth unexpectedly captured your nipple, sucking it hard. That was it. A strong shiver ran through your body as the walls of your pussy clenched in a sweet spasm of pleasure flooding your body. Joel was right behind you. He didn't need much. When he felt you tighten around him, he was done. He came with a loud groan, burying his face in your shoulder, digging his fingers into your soft hip.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." he breathed out "You're amazing. Just fucking amazing."

"You're not bad either." You laughed quietly, wrapping your arms around him.

He wanted to stay in your arms, but you both knew he had to clean up. Joel lifted himself up and slid out of you, holding the end of the condom carefully, then went to throw it in the trash can in the bathroom.

"You have a really nice butt." You murmured as he laid down next to you again.

"You think so?" He laughed, "I think yours is much better, but thanks."

You lay next to each other, breathing deeply, in a sweet state of total fulfillment and relaxation. It felt nice to have him next to you, within arm's reach, in a more intimate way.

Joel must have been thinking the same thing, because soon his hand found yours in the sheets, he brought it to his lips and kissed it.

"Did you like it?" he asked, turning his head to look at you.

"Very much. I would gladly repeat it a few more times." you replied smiling widely "And you? What do you think about it?"

"Same here." he replied "But I wouldn't want it to destroy what is between us."

"Joel, I don't expect any declarations from you." you turned around and leaned on your elbow looking at him closely "We feel good together, I like you a lot, I actually have a soft spot for you for a long time. Let's just let it flow, you know. We'll see where it takes us."

"That's probably a good idea." he mumbled, his fingers brushing away strands of your hair "You're beautiful, you know..."

"Those are declarations!" you lightly patted him on the shoulder.

"No. That's a fact, actually."

You smiled, and his heart beat faster for a moment. He already knew he was lost, but he didn't want to say it. Not now, when you said 'no' to all declarations.

"Maybe you'd like to have dinner with me tomorrow?" he finally suggested "Sarah's on a school trip. She won't be back until Monday. We could have a nice time. See where it takes us..."

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"You know... I'm glad we did it."

"Me too." You leaned in, kissing him lightly on the corner of his mouth "And you know what else I'm happy about?" and seeing his questioning look you added "We still have a few condoms, and the night is still young."

"You're going to kill me, you know that?" Joel burst out laughing.

But his arms were already gathering you to him and you were lying on his chest, you liked this position and you were going to use it well.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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madridfangirl · 2 months ago

Text

Escape

Jude Bellingham comfort blurb.

Summary: Literally the title. Jude finds an escape from ongoing shit with the people he loves the most.

(Characters from Star Crossed Lovers.)

.................................................................................

'Heyy you.'

'Heyy.'

Ananya was met with a glum face and a glum voice when she video-called her boyfriend. Last 2 days were nothing short of hell for him. She had been away for her cousin's wedding in India, but the Clasico had bummed her out as well. They had exchanged messages and had a brief call but the wedding celebrations didn't leave her much time to spend with Jude.

And when she saw the Balon d'or fiasco while scrolling through her insta at the airport, her first reaction was disbelief. She wanted to throw her phone at the nearest wall. The travesty and scandal of the whole thing was beyond comprehension.

But she got her reaction out of her system before reaching out to him, knowing he would be 10 times as upset. Just last night he had sent her images of the fully done up suit, along with the classy watch (which she had picked). He had been so excited for the podium finish, to actually attend as one of the best players in the world and not an 'upcoming' player anymore. The post-event party was going to be epic too. But alas - the universe conspired against them real hard.

'How are you?'

'How do you think?'

He responded curtly, then checked his tone immediately.

'Just blah.'

'I know. Me too.'

'When did you see?'

'Just now when I reached the airport.'

She was about to board the connecting flight to Madrid.

'You?'

'Been a few hours.'

'You didn't tell me?'

'Didn't know where you would be. Didn't wanna upset you also.'

Upset was a massive understatement for what she was feeling right now. She wanted to burn down the world. Not just as Jude's girlfriend, but as a Madridista more.

But, she told herself what's done is done. She had to be strong for him. Both of them couldn't have a meltdown at the same time.

'Honestly thought it would be a good distraction from Saturday. But nahh. Man I still can't believe this is true.'

'Me neither. Part of me feels I'd wake up from this nightmare any second.'

'Yeah.'

'When do you go back to training?'

'Day after. Got tomorrow off as well now.'

'Hmm. Denise must be pampering you loads?'

First hint of a smile from the boy, as he thought of his mother fondly.

'Hotdog, pasta, cake, hugs - everything.'

'Awww. Didn't sing you a lullaby?'

She teased fondly.

'Won't put it past her.'

A half-smile again.

Jobe & Mark couldn't make it for the Clasico. Jobe's schedule didn't permit that. The brothers loved nothing more than to be there to support each other for big matches but the realities of their calendars barely permitted that.

Ananya hoped they had been able to make it. Would have been a massive comfort to Jude right now.

But Denise was a superwoman when it came to making Jude feel better & taking care of him. One of the best mums in the world.

Ananya had seen their bond up close for an year now. So she knew he was in good hands.

'She's the best.'

Ananya smiled genuinely at the screen.

'Don't know what I'd do without her honestly.'

He paused for a moment.

'And, without you.'

'Oh you'd walk around the streets crazy if it wasn't for me.'

She shrugged, grinning.

Jude smiled. The kind of smile that recahed his eyes. The ability of this girl to uplift his spirits, just by existing, befuddled him so much.

'How long till I see you?'

'Three hours. Boarding in 5 and coming straight to you from the airport.'

'Come sooner.'

She shook her head fondly at the screen.

'Unless you suddenly turned into Tony Stark and discovered a portal through time & space, not possible to come faster than a plane.'

'Such a nerd.'

'Proud of it.'

'Seriously, come soon.'

'Close your eyes. Take a nap. I'd be there when you wake up.'

Colour drained from his face at her words. He had barely slept AT ALL last two days. Even Denise's cuddles hadn't helped.

'Yeah, will try.'

'Jude, look at me.'

He looked up immediately.

'It's done. It sucks but it's done. Nothing will change it. Don't let it burn you from the inside. Last 2 days were shitty but we can only go up from here, yeah?'

'Easier said than done.'

'With you. 100%. It'd feel shitty for a while but hey, next 1.5 days, lets shut out the world and focus on what's dear to us, what's important, yeah? There is more to life, we both know that.'

'Hmmm.'

'I'll be there by lunch time. Should I get some Toblerone?'

'Yeah.'

'Cool, see you soon baby.'

'Come soon.'

'I'm coming.'

When she landed in Madrid and checked her phone, there were 5 missed calls from Jude. and a message to call him back as soon as she saw it.

Alarmed, she rang him up immediately.

'Hey, where are you? Don't leave the airport.'

'What?'

'We are going to Corsica for a day.'

'WHAT?'

'Mum and I are at the private section of the airport. There is a car waiting for you on arrivals. Sending you the details. Take that & come here. We fly out in 15.'

'Back up. What the hell are you saying? This doesn't make any sense.'

'Makes all the sense. I don't have training tomorrow and you have an off tomorrow. We'll come back early on Wed morning. 2 nights in Corsica. Resort is booked and the flight time is 1.5 hours. I researched, dove. Planned to the T. Now stop wasting time & get here.'

Ananya couldn't register anything he was saying. Freaking out hard at the idea of taking a holiday together with his mum. Sure they had stayed together at his Madrid house many times and she had even visited the family in theri Birmingham home during the summer and she had a good relationship with Denise.

But a holiday with your boyfriend's mum was a big step.

Of all the reasons she had to freak out, she chose the silliest one to voice out loud.

'I don't have any clothes for Corsica.'

'You'd be with me. Why do you need clothes?'

'JUDE.'

'Relax, she's not with me right now. On the phone with dad. Complaining I've gone mad. Her exact words - come get your son he's driving me crazy.'

'I'm with her on this.'

'Did you find the car yet?'

'Yes but Jude..'

'Dove I need this. Can't be here right now. Can't even be in this city. Need an escape. Need you guys. Please?'

There was no way on Mother Earth she could have said no to that voice and those words.

'Ok.'

The plane took off exactly 10 mins later. Ananya insisted on wearing a mask while boarding - the relationship was not public and if there was any chance she was seen with him (Jude insisted it won't happen coz private terminal) then at least they won't get her face.

'Why Corsica?'

'Remote. Pretty. Haven't been there. And you said it's on your list right?'

She had seen the place in a movie and told him about it. Months ago.

'Yeah. But...'

'You shouldn't be the one having to plan all this right now. We should be taking care of you.'

'You are. By being with me right now.'

He leaned down & kissed her, something she was still getting used to in the presence of his family. It had taken Jude some time to understand that PDA worked differently where she came from, and both had gravitated to a midway here.

They landed soon, on a private airstrip of a luxury resort.

Ofcourse.

Ananya didn't even dare to think how much a place like this would have costed. Coz it was luxury personified. Grand sea-facing villas. Normally, she would have told Jude this was too much. But now was not the time. The boy had the right to do whatever he wanted right now.

Instead, she focused on the clear blue waters in sight. And wondered if the place would have a shop to buy at least something appropriate.

The staff walked them to their villa. While Ananya admired the white marbles and fancy chandeliers all around.

'This is us. And that's you, mum.'

Ananya walked in. And kept walking. The place was never ending. Two bed rooms. Three washrooms. Private pool. Sea-facing deck. And a bunch of other rooms she couldn't even understand the purpose of.

'You took 2 villas?'

'Yup.'

'Why? This place can fit a village.'

'Why do you think?'

He said without missing a beat.

'Seriously?'

'I meant what I said about the clothes.'

He said matter of factly, while adding the wifi password to his phone. Leaving his girlfriend gaping at him.

'You can take off that mask now.'

'Oh yeah.'

She had forgotten about that. So lost in this place, and in him.

When his brows furrowed while gaping through his phone, Ananya interved.

'Gimme that.'

'What?'

'No phones while we are here. Let's try that?'

That didn't seem like a bad idea. He did want to forget about the world outside, atleast briefly.

'What should we do then?'

'Lets watch a movie? Ask Denise if she'd be up for it.'

'Naah she's cranky. I literally dragged her out of bed mid-nap. Not knocking on her door now she'll be mad.'

'Cool then we can watch something. On the deck maybe? Sea breeze would be nice.'

'Or we could do some other things. On the deck also if you want.'

She just shook her head at him in exasperation, and he knew it meant a no. But he also knew a no was only for now. She won't keep him waiting for long, not when she wanted to make him feel better.

Honestly, he just did it to get a reaction from her, something he enjoyed a fair bit.

Not having the constant buzz of the phone next to him helped a ton. As did the soothing air. The serenity seeping into his pores.

They watched a random rom-com, with Jude's running commentary on how cheesy it was.

'Please, have you seen you? You are cheesier.'

'Take that back.'

'Nope.'

'Name one cheesy thing I do.'

'Kissing me through the phone?'

'That's not cheesy.'

'Yeah sure.'

The bickering went on, as the movie kept playing in the background.

Denise sent her a quick 'how's he doing?' and she responded with an 'ok.'

After the movie, they did do a few other things he wanted. Not on the deck though, no way she was going to allow that.

It was time for dinner. The resort had set up a table sea-side for them.

'I literally have nothing to wear Jude.'

'Wear my jersey. I have it somehwhere.'

'What a great idea to not draw attention.'

But wearing one of his oversized shirts was the only option. With her jeans.

How badly she hoped she had a dress with her right now. Especially in a fancy ass place like this.

But the shirt, which made her look like a homeless person, will have to suffice. She tucked it in, doing the best she could.

'Don't tell me you're gonna wear a mask here as well.'

'On the way, yes. On the table, it's already dark at the beach.'

He raised his hand in surrender, knowing she'll do what she wanted.

They reached the table and Denise was wearing a supremely elegant dress. And Ananya wanted to jump in the deep waters.

She glared at Jude sideways, and he avoided it pointedly, starting a random conversation with his mum.

Jobe face-timed shortly, and Jude took the phone to show the scenery to Jobe. Denise watched them from a distance, content.

'How was he last 2 days?'

'Oh bad. Very rarely have I seen him like this.'

Ananya hummed.

'But he looks better now. Your being here helped.'

Jude had learnt the matter-of-fact mode of speaking from his mother. He was a carbon copy in this department, and in many other departments.

The said boy returned to the table then, giggling at something Mark was yelling in the background. About Jobe not finishing his dinner.

'I'm 19 dad. 19.'

'19 year old boys don't need to eat anymore.'

'Jobe - why aren't you eating?'

Denise chimed in and Jobe looked distraught.

'You guys - seriously?'

'They're right. You shouldn't skip meals, not on a school night.'

Jude added with a straight face

'Shut up, loser.'

'You're a loser.'

'Ananya - if you love me, you'd make him sleep on the floor tonight.'

She was happily sipping on wine, which she choked on when she heard her name in the middle of the family conversation. And in the context with which Jobe said it.

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish, unable to string words together, but Jude stepped in to help.

'Who said she loves you?'

That did not help.

'Ananya - tell him you love me.'

'Ummm...'

'Alright stop it boys. Jobe - you have training tomorrow. Go to bed now.'

The ever disciplined Denise made her presence known.

'Gosh you guys. I'm 19. NINETEEN.'

'Still a teen.'

'I hate you, bro.'

'Right back at you, bro.'

They hung up shortly after, with another firm nudge from Denise.

When they were wrapping up, Denise took Ananya to the side.

'He hasn't slept in two days.'

'Yeah I figured.'

'Should we give him something?'

'No I think today maybe different. Let me try. Otherwise lets do that tomorrow.'

'Yeah ok. Just....can you check....'

'I'm on it, Denise.'

She smiled reassuringly at the worried mum. And the mum smiled back.

After the usual activities that night in bed, Ananya sighed softly as she was half-laid over Jude's chest. The shirt from earlier laid crumpled over the floor.

'Told you clothes are not a problem.'

'Oh shushhh.'

The sound of his giggle gave her such joy.

'Can I ask you something?'

'Ofcourse.'

'How are you? Truly?'

'Babe...'

'Please? It's important to talk, Jude.'

He was quiet for 2 minutes.

'Hasn't fully sunk in yet. Either thing.'

'I get it.'

'Makes me question a few things.'

'Like?'

'Like how good I am?'

Jude did not like such vulnerability. But the words just started flowing when he was with her.

'You don't need the validation of THOSE people to know how good you are.'

'What about my people?'

'Like?'

'Club. Coach. Squad.'

'Sweetheart - they know more than your family & friends. They are the ones who put you on this pedestal last year.'

'Am I still there though, on that pedestal?'

'What do you feel?'

'Things have changed.'

'For the better or for the worse?'

'A bit of both sometimes. Don't know how to explain.'

'No I get it.'

'Hmm.'

'And I think you should talk to him. He loves you, you know that.'

It didn't need to be said that they were talking about Carlo.

'It can get messy if I do that.'

'Do it nicely. It'd get messier if you don't. Jude, if your head is not in the right place, you think we have a real shot at winning everything?'

'Am I talking to my girlfriend or a Madridista?'

'Both. And both are telling you the same thing. So listen to both.'

'You know I'm not great at these conversations.'

'That's crazy. You're great at addressing things head on. Just do that.'

'Mum said the same thing.'

'See? I knew it.'

'You're so like her sometimes.'

'Like how?'

'Like how smart you are. How correct.'

'Yeah - well - I'm smart can't help it.'

She giggled and he pulled her up for a sloppy, messy kiss.

'Tell me it'll get better.'

'It's you. You will not rest till it gets better. You will turn the world upside down to make it better. And well, it's Real Madrid. No one can keep us down for long.'

'You really should work at the club you know. They'd love you.'

'My dream job. But my current one pays a lot more.'

'Hmmmm.'

As she laid wrapped in his arms, Jude felt a sense of contentment that had evaded him last 2 days. He thought his world was crumbling down, while his world was right there in his arms. And next door. And in Sunderland. And in Birmingham. The pieces of his heart were around him to make him whole again. Ultimately, that's what mattered. This was the most important thing. And he will turn the world upside down till he gets to the very top of it, again. Which was his rightful place anyway.

............................................................................

Written in 2 hours. Not edited at all.

Just me talking to myself, anything to distract from this mess.

Hope you like it.

#jude bellingham #real madrid #bellingham #jude #jb5 #jb #jude bellingham smut #jude fanfic #bellingham x reader #star crossed lovers #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham blurb #desi girl #jude bellingham angst #jude fic

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soxcreg · 3 months ago

Text

Сold Secrets

Part two

Modern!Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're in love with the captain of the King's Landing University hockey team. You've kept it a closely guarded secret , but something goes wrong.

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 1002

part one, part three

It's been a week since that kiss with Cregan. Nothing much has changed in my life, except for a constant feeling of awkwadress. You'd think that since Cregan isn't around, there's no need to worry, but he was. Over the past few days, he's been catching my eye constanly.

Either his car is parked or driving by, or he's visiting Jacaerys while I'm visiting Helaena. I'm a senior, so we've started going to the University, and since the guys in my class have taken an interest in hockey, I see Stark not only in the hallways and classrooms, but also on the ice.

"Don't even think about leaving or sneaking out. Everyone should be on excursions," the teacher warned us menacingly.

Of corse, I couldn't talk about these patterns, because no one, not even Helaena, knew about my crush. Well, maybe I'm just too fixated on all this. Maybe it's just a coincidence, or everithing was like this before,I just started noticing these details. I knew about the tours of the University of King's Landing in advance.

Maybe these are just excuses, but I fell calmer this way. But I was sure that it was either my imagination or an accident.

I'm sitting in the stands watching he University hockey team's demonstration practice. It feels like my ass already frozen to the bench. Cold. And hungry. My mind whispered. I didn't have time to have breakfast, the class teacher is clearly not in the mood today.

"And theres guys are really nice," One girl giggled next to me, "Yeah. Espencially Aegon. I saw him yesterday, he's so gallant, "And the both started laughing nervously, attracting the attention of even the guys on the ice.

Well, I mean, Aegon is gallant. No, of cours, he's very well-mannered, sometimes he can be polite and behave like a gentelman. But that was only moments.Mostly he's loud, funny and very indecent. The words pouring out of his mouth sometimes add to my vocabulary, and also make me brush and turn away. And he's a pro at terrible ideas and schemes.

Often his nephew Jacaerys, whom he affectionately calls cousin, due to the small age difference, takes part in his scams. They both even tried to get Cregan involved, but he didn't particularly like that, although he did take part in some harmless schemes.

I don't really need to be told about this. I don't think Aegon would like it. On the other hand, I could hear the voice of the class teacher, he was commenting on the training session very heatedly. He seemed to have examined, he also played hockey in his time. I carefully examined the ice and found the one I needed.

Tall, broad-shouldered, he looked even bigger in uniform. He held the stick confidently, and he moved around the ice better than I walked on the ground. It was fascinating. I only skated as a child, I think now I would easily fall there and turn into a star.

So absorbed in staring, I didn't even understand when he looked at me too. His gray eyes were fixed on me. No. From afar, because of the helmet and the play of light, it seemed that way to me. Why would he look at me? That's what I decided.

After traning, we were dismissed, and I headed to the exit of the University. Today, Helaena had invited me to her place. Then someone called me. I turned and saw Cregan. Stell in uniform, he was hurrying towards me. I raised an eyebrow.

"Hey," He came closer and said, "Hi. Did you want something?" I hoped the blush on my cheeks was not as noticable as I thought.

"I heard you were going to Helaena's today. Maybe I could give you a ride?" I started at him, surprised. "How do you know?"

"Aegon said," He replied, smiling as if nothing had happened. Gods, I could melt into a piddle here.

"Yeah, fine. If it's convenient for you," I nervously tugged at the strap of my backpack. "I'll pick you up at six," He said goodbuy and walked back into the building.

I was still under the impression. What if I hadn't imagined the look? Well, I had to stay calm. I turned around and headed home to get my homework done and ready.

I was already getting ready, it was six in the evening. I said goodbuy to my parents and left the apartament. Mom was casually standing by the window and checking her flowers on the windowsill. I frowned and went to the alevator. When mom found out a guy I knew from the University would be giving me a ride, she got worried.

"My girl has never had a boyfriend, and then some hare crawled out of a hat," Of course, I tried to calm her down, that I had known Cregan for a year, he was a friend of Helaena's cousin-nephew, but it came out so confused that this situation interested her.

I left the train and saw Cregan's car. It's good that he didn't get out of it this time, otherwise there would be even more questions after I returned. I got into the car.

"Hi. How are you?" He asked me. The car started moving. "Everithing is fine, how are you?"

While we were driving to the Targaryen estate, we exchanged basic questions about the weather and school. I didn't seem to be too worried, I hope I'm not imagining it. Several times I definitely caught him looking at me, which I kind of liked, but not really. When we got to our friends, we quickly went to different rooms. Finally, Cregan said he would give me a ride home.

Gods old and new, help me get though this day. It's confusing and giving me butterflies. A lot.

Looks like there will be a third part.

#cregan stark #house stark #hotd #modern cregan stark #modern hotd #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark x you

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tojjist · 1 year ago

Text

“At Least” S. Gojo

☆ genre: angst to fluff (kinda)

☆ pairings: Gojo Satoru x f! reader

☆ summary: After Geto left, nothing has been the same. Especially not your relationship with Gojo Satoru. Once you decide to move to Kyoto for good, Gojo is less than pleased. But fate does not seem to want to let you go.

☆ cw: mentions of sex, depressed gojo, not spoiler free, hopping between timelines but like i added non-canon events, smoking, drinking, getting drunk, high school Gojo being a high school boy, cussing, mentions of drunk sex but it doesn’t happen, mentions character death (from the anime), gojo satoru (yes that's a trigger warning).

☆ wc : 5.6k

☆ a/n: this has been in the doing for so long? I've been waiting to have the chance to upload it for maybe a year now smh. Also was originally written for an irl of mine lmao

“Oh my god,” you emphasize each word, pushing the wooden chair away with your knee. “Satoru, is it yours?”

His black pupils, lined with iris the color of morning skies, study your figure from behind the shaded glasses, pink lips quirking slightly upwards in approval of your attention.

“Nah, it's only staying with me for a week,” he stated, watching nervously as you strode over to him. “His owner is away for some business.”

Your attention remained fixed on the pet in Satoru's long, long arms. Your face lit up when a bark escaped the infant animal. “Can I hold it?”

Satoru watched over you carefully, pleading eyes coming in line with his blues. You make it hard to say anything other than an immediate yes, but he tries to stretch out the conversation to his best ability.

“It's 400 yen for 10 minutes,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. He earned a look of amusement from you; a small victory. He then braced himself for the next part. Satoru bent down, meeting you eye-to-eye, and noticed your breath catching in anticipation. “Or... you can shorten your skirt.”

Your face took no time to grow hot, not giving any verbal answer besides the blank expression you stare at him with. For a second, Gojo let himself think he's the victor of this little challenge he started in his head. But he soon came to realize how grave of a mistake he's made.

You're not flustered, you're angry.

“You're such a fucking pervert,” you fume, eyes glaring daggers. He dares not move, noticing the way your eyes flutter over his face.

“You're truly unbelievable,” the shorter male chuckled, making sure he didn't bump into Satoru's now-bruised arm. “What were you even thinking?”

“I thought it was funny, y'know?” He huffed in response. Gojo's fingers ran through his own bright locks as he took a seat on the wood hung up by metal chains. "Besides, has she always been this strong? Physically, I mean."

Geto stared into the reddish sky of dusk, placing himself into a swing in turn and kicking the air so the swing would start moving. "I don't know. Girls are really full of surprises.”

He never thought, not in a million years, things would come to this. Ever since Gojo's last encounter with Geto after he, well, changed... Gojo became unable to face anyone quite the same way he did before.

How did he get here? How did things escalate to this? Thinking about it, Geto had shown signs of a change in his heart and mind. It was Satoru's fault, was it not? He should have done better. He should have noticed. How could he not have? wasn't he the strongest? Wasn't that his job? How could he be so bad at everything?

How could he fail everyone like this?

“Gojo-San?”

Your feminine voice cut his train of thought. He almost forgot the situation he is now stuck in. He's been doing that a lot: losing himself in thought, mind almost immune to the outer world until he temporarily lost his sense of self. Nothing felt quite the same any more. It was like the world had lost its color.

“Sorry- What's up?” He turned to you. Gojo-san, you called him. When did you stop using his given name? What's with the '-san'? Gojo hadn't realized that losing one person was the first step, and now he found himself deep in the road of losing everyone.

And now he's stuck in the elevator with the girl he had liked for so long. He couldn't find it in himself to say anything to you, to push your buttons like he always did or joke around. When did the world become so heavy? He does not know.

“Are you okay? You seemed off.”

Your face is devoid of any genuine emotion, seemingly expressionless. But your voice is laced with concern. Gojo could only guess you didn't want him thinking you pity him or anything of such. But if that isn't the case, he wouldn't know. He's too tired to bother thinking about it.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine,” he smiled in assurance, “Just bothered by, well, this-” he threw his hand in the way of the control panel. The elevator doors have been stuck for almost twenty minutes now. How pleasant.

“uh huh,” you sigh, turning back around. How did you turn so cold?

When the silence stretches, you start a conversation, hesitant at first. “By the way, I got accepted as a helper in a nursery in Kyoto,” you mutter, gaze avoiding his own. “they're expecting me to start work right after spring break.”

Spring break?

Holy shit. It hit him like a truck. That’s barely a week and a half from now.

“Spring break? Why so soon?”

“That’s when the students file back in,” you mumble, fiddling with the watch placed around your wrist. You pause to read the time, then turn to meet his eyes. “I’m leaving in four days to get settled.”

“Oh…” His breath caught, “Train?”

What a stupid question. He knows. Satoru has never been unintelligent, especially in conversing. But now his unintelligence shines through as if it’s his only trait. He’s glad you don’t question it.

“Yeah, I have no other form of transport really.”

“Well, uh…” He hates himself. He hates himself for not doing anything. He hates himself for being so weak and cowardly, for being unable to keep his friends around him, for shutting everyone he holds close out. But now, he especially hates himself for being unable to feel happy for you, or to congratulate you on the opportunity, “come visit us every once in a while, yeah?”

Your mouth remains shut, only staring at the tall man before your eyes. The silence stretches between the two of you once again, and you don’t find it in you to speak of how you feel.

“You.. you know you could have died, right? We all could have b-but you…” You trail off, thoughts splattered like a spilled pot of ink. Although you seemed unfazed, in your mind you were anything but. Haibara, Riko, and all the losses that trailed and every event that followed has been stressful and nerve-wrecking. And even in the quietness and silence of the general atmosphere, it has been nearly impossible to find peace within yourself.

“Well, I didn’t. What happened had passed. Can you change that? I doubt so. No point in ‘if’ and ‘could’ve’.”

Before you could respond,the lights flickered back on. You grow unsure if you’ve struck a nerve, but that wasn’t what you meant. Gojo’s response had nothing to do with what you said, you were sure he knew exactly what your words were meant for. Why is he so scared of confronting it?

You don’t know. You could never hope to know because you and Gojo Satoru live in different worlds, the man who was only Satoru some time ago. You were worlds apart, yet Satoru loved to play pretend that he lived in the same world as you, even when he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was no longer. Ever since Geto left… it’s safe to say everyone has been changing slowly, deforming from their previous lives and personalities. But Satoru flipped, like the head and tail of a coin, he got himself a new face. He turned into Gojo Satoru; the strongest. A soul unalive. A broken boy in an ever growing body. A stranger.

Two days later you find yourself still roaming the campus , searching so desperately for something. Anything. A reason to stay, perhaps? You don’t find it anyway. You have no attachment as this place holds nothing but misery. Or that’s what you told yourself over and over as you packed your things.

Your steps were graceful, walking so cautiously as if careful to not wake someone up. Your fingers find rest on the old, dusty door frame, pushing yourself into the room that hadn’t been used for a good month or so. The classroom looked the same as it always did. Except for the shadow that loomed over it; a gray shade that sent chills down your spine. Or maybe it’s just your imagination.

Then you spot something rather out of place. You’re sure you’ve never seen it before and although you know it’s none of your business, the way it tugs at the strings of your curiosity is undeniable.

It’s red, poking out of what you’re sure is Gojo’s desk. The gloomy classroom was no fit for paper with a color so vibrant.

Your heart skips a beat when you glimpse the seat next to Satoru’s. You do your best to avoid looking at Geto’s desk any further. You busy yourself with the task at hand, reaching out for the mysterious paper hidden in the wooden desk. Shivers run up your arm at the texture of the scrunched paper.

You attempt to straighten it to your best ability, strained by his hard work of crumbling it with obvious frustration. you can barely make out the letters of your name in the middle of the paper, outlined by a messy circle. How Gojo of him. A few lines stick out of the ‘circle’, one of them has the name of a steakhouse somewhere in Tokyo. Another has a date, reading somewhere along February. It’s near impossible to make out what the small combination of letters say, especially when Satoru’s handwriting is closer to symbols than a comprehensible language.

The thought of it was so funny it didn’t feel like him at all. Satoru never planned anything. Every breath he took was based on pure impulse. Never would it have occurred to you that he thinks through things, let alone brainstorm.

The thought makes you smile. But the realization that he never asked you out because he changed his mind or everything that happened getting in his way makes your stomach churn unpleasantly.

You decide it’s probably for the best to never bring it up. It would only make matters worse for both of you. Life ran its course; who are you to try and change it?

“I apologize, but my answer remains. I refuse to take part in this,” you spoke in an even tone. “I have a job and a life away from jujutsu. I’ve made it clear sorcery is not a part of my life anymore.”

"That’s completely understandable,” the old man argued, his voice hoarse with age. You’re pretty sure you hear anger further straining his voice, “but your technique is quite strong. That strength could be of great assistance if put to use.”

“Thank you, sir,” you dip your head, maintaining eye contact with the decaying man. “But I truly apologize. The decision is final.”

“If you ever do change your mind, please let us know. We’d be more than happy to hear it.”

You almost let a sigh of relief escape. Finally he gave up. You end up only nodding your head in response gratefully, retreating from the old man. As soon as you're safe and out of sight, you let your posture drop, eyes rolling back in annoyance. These guys are truly as relentless as ever.

You stopped upon a familiar scent catching in your nostrils. Lifting your head up, your eyes roam around, scanning the room for your friend.

“You look troubled,” Shoko approaches you, taking the cigarette out from between her teeth. “What’s with the face?”

“How is that man even alive,” you look at her, “he’s ancient.”

Your comment earns a light chuckle from the brunette. “I’m glad I never have to get caught up in this bullshit.”

“Blissed aren’t you,” you roll your eyes as you speak. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place, I knew they were going to do this.”

“It’s alright, you’re all done now. Here-” Your friend then lifts the cigarette up, putting it near your mouth. When you don’t show any resistance she, being the bad influence she has always been, proceeds to place it between your lips. You waste no time, making quick work of the drag you inhale, bringing the familiar cloud of toxic chemicals and tobacco into your lungs. Your expression relaxes, shifting into one of relief. Shoko scoffs playfully, muttering that you’re dramatic under her breath before she pulls her cigarette from you, taking in a drag.

“Satoru’s here, by the way,” Shoko didn’t need to look at you to guess the way your eyes snap towards her. She bites back a smile. “He’s calmed down. He’d even seem the same as long as you don’t squint too hard.”

“Good for him,” you mutter, trying to seem as unbothered and nonchalant as your accelerating heart rate would allow. You avoid looking at Shoko, trying to seem disinterested. You know she’d pretend you weren’t gawking at her the second she said his name.

“He’s trying, you know. He’s just as nervous as you are.”

“‘M not nervous,” you scoff, “For god’s sake. It’s been ten years already.”

Satoru is stressed. He's nervous, as Shoko put it. He’d spent so long trying to ignore the past, pretend the past wasn’t at all. He couldn’t confront it. He didn’t want to. Satoru knows what he’s done, he's aware that he hurt you the last time you two had interacted. And that was ten years ago. He even let you leave without so much as a goodbye. How could he look you in the eye and pretend nothing has ever happened?

Gojo didn’t want to face the consequences of what he’s done. More so what he hasn’t. So many things were left unsaid in the elevator that day. They’ve been hanging over Satoru ever since, weighing his heart down and wearing it out.

What if he’s met by another woman? Ten years change a lot as is. What if the eyes that meet his aren’t yours? What if he finds himself talking to a stranger that carries around your name and features? Of all the horrors Gojo Satoru had faced in his life, nothing caused dread to pool in the pit of his stomach like this thought does.

Shoko seems to find something beyond you interesting. You don’t bother to turn to see as the brunette has always been a little in her own head. She’s probably just dozed off.

“Hey, think you can hold this for me?” Shoko muttered once Gojo crossed her sight. She stands facing you, averting his gaze. “I’ll be right back, nature’s calling.”

From his distance, Gojo couldn’t make out what the two of you were saying. He watched as your shoulders shook, presumably in laughter. Shoko then made her away from you, barely sparing Satoru a glance.

Every step he took felt heavy, weights landing on his shoulders as he moved towards you. He watched smoke emerge from over your head. He didn’t know you smoked. And even though he’s not completely sure what you do for a living now, he’s not expecting any nursery to accept a smoker in their team.

His long strides finally arrived, opting to remain a step behind you. Close enough to make his presence known.

The aura was unmistakable, almost as if it could be physically sensed. You freeze in place, the cigarette remaining a few inches from your lips. Even after he changed his perfume to one a lot more manly and appealing, and clearly grew taller judging by the shadow he cast over you, his presence still had the same strength as it did before. If not stronger. Anyone else would say it’s intimidating. But you find surprising comfort in it.

“That’s going to kill you,” his hand reached from over your head, making sure to not cause any unnecessary physical contact. His fingers slip the burning cigarette from your grip. You find yourself unable to make a single move in response, only watching his actions unfold.

He took a step, moving closer, dimming the light from the roll by rubbing it against the metal bars, then throwing it off the balcony. “You’re too young to kill yourself like that.”

“That bitch Shoko set me up,” You hiss, regaining your composure. “Will you look who showed up. You’re killing the ecosystem by throwing waste like this, Gojo.”

Although you haven’t glanced his way yet, You were every bit sure his mouth was quirked in the same smug smirk he wore so much when you were younger. You could even hear it in his voice as he spoke, “You haven’t grown at all, have you?”

“Oh shut it,” you chuckle. “You’re still as immature as ever. How you could be a manchild at 27 is a wonder to me.”

27… It felt so weird to say it out loud. Weren’t you just 17 a few days ago?

“Oh, how you hurt me,” he says in exaggeration, his voice conveying anything but the hurt he claims to feel. “That isn’t very nice of you.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” You say. He laughs a little, you do too. But the silence that follows is not that of a joke. He knew what you’re referring to. Maybe he underestimated your last encounter’s effect on you.

The silence speaks for itself. It’s louder than any conversation you’ve had before. What now? What have we become? Is it of any use to try anymore? Neither of you had an answer to the question that began to surface with this interaction.

The questions remain hung in the air, dimming the atmosphere around you. Was this fate’s doing? Or his karma? Gojo has always been told he’s a god, but how could he be a higher form of life when he struggled so much to hold a conversation?

He’s about to speak again when you cut him off, muttering “here-” as you push your hand down the coat you wore. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek as you search for the anonymous object.

You pull out a worn out paper, grown from what could have been a bright red to an orangish shade. His eyes study as you shove the paper in his direction, eyes avoiding his gaze at all costs.

Seeing your bashful expression made him rather curious, the contents of the wrinkled paper piquing his interest. He hesitates before he pulls the paper from your hand, half-expecting you to bite him.

The letters were scribbles, almost like they’re straight out of some cult’s ritual, that with the wrinkles of the worn out paper making reading it next to impossible. Still, he could make out just enough to realize what this paper is. His eyes widened behind the blindfold. It didn’t take much to remember this paper, trivial as it may be.

“You found this- how did you even…?” he trails off, confused.

“I guess I did,” You confirm. He’s unsure if you’re proud of yourself for your rather… interesting discovery. It’s bold of you to pull this out ten whole years later. But he can’t deny the relief he feels that at least this means you don’t completely hate him. For once, he’s truly at loss for words.

But he wouldn’t let a perfect opportunity like this slide.

“Oh, so you’re in love with me? You’re so obsessed with me that you kept this for so many years, what a loyal fangirl.”

Before he knew it, a weight so crushing landed on his foot. He turned off his infinity around you as a sign of trust. But he soon came to regret his rather unsmart decision. Your foot stomped and crushed his toes. It makes him groan in pain, bending slightly forward.

“Tomorrow, at Narisawa in Minato city, 5:30. I’m leaving for Kyoto in 3 days. Don’t waste your chance again, Gojo Satoru. You’re not getting another one.”

“I take it you’ve been in love with me ever since?” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “Say, did you fascinate about me?”

“Hmm..” you hum softly at his childish question, “only a little.” You show no signs of interest in his tactics as you sipped the wine in your hand. Undeniably, Gojo is taken aback by your lack of reaction. He hasn’t known you to be so reserved and smart at keeping him on edge. He couldn’t help finding your new behavior enticing.

Is there anything else you’d like to have?” You nodded your head towards the plates sitting on the table, some empty and some half-full. “Or do you wanna do something else before I go back to the hotel?”

“Hmm? Maybe I could join you at the hotel, actually. Surely it’ll be a lot less lonely with me around?”

You’re tempted by his offer, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. He looked strikingly handsome today. Maybe you were just really lonely and touch starved, or maybe it’s the way his lips quirk as he teases you that makes your brain a little hazy, inappropriate thoughts floating through it and send jolts to your core. Yet, you set your mind on refusing his advances. You haven’t had a decent conversation since high school, for god's sake.

He keeps his eyes set on you, shining before him. You looked glamorous. He’d lie if he said there wasn’t a certain allure to your matured looks. The years that flew by changed a lot of things about you two, but his breath still catches in his throat when your eyes meet his dreamy blues. The feelings rush back, memories clouding his train of thought.

He’s sure he’s going to pay. He didn’t mind it at all, what a small price for getting to spend an evening with you. But you surprise him when you bring up that you had already put your card down, courtesy of having been the one to ask him out. Or maybe this was your way of telling him that you are in pretty good condition, living perfectly well without needing sorcery.

“How’s working as a jujutsu teacher?” you quip, smiling softly. “Utahime says you’ve got some interesting kids in your pack? Two special grades, too. You’re sure a favorite attraction for wonders.”

“You’re still in contact with her too?” he dodges talking about his students, not meeting your gaze. “That’s ironic. Weren’t we friends too?”

A hoarse chuckle emerges from him. But nothing about it leads back to amusement, as it was a joyless sound devoid of life. Almost as if he were mocking you. The dark lenses of the shades sitting on the bridge of his nose served as a shield. He curses himself for being so weak. He's almost thirty but somehow you’ve got him acting like he did when he was 17.

“You didn’t try to contact me either,” you shrug, not willing to take the blame for your lack of contact.

“You could have visited then. Even Yaga talked about you every once in a while,” he isn’t too happy and it’s showing.

“All good things, I hope-“

“Don’t change the subject,” he frowns, an uneasy edge outlining his words. “He was enough. You didn’t have to go ahead and leave too.”

“I had to move on, Gojo,” the name felt like a jab every time you used it. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. This is how you drew your boundaries. Calling them by their last names gives you a false sense of satisfaction, convincing yourself that your sorcerer friends are past figures now. Mere acquaintances.

“-I couldn’t remain hung there forever, I valued my mental health. You grew distant, the atmosphere was growing uneasy every day. I had to cut ties with Jujutsu before I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.”

“Yet you’re here now. Back to square one,” his playful tone was long gone, now replaced by an even, stern one. “Whether you moved away or called us by our last names. It’s a curse you can’t escape. you’ll always end up back in the palms or jujutsu.”

His words held some truth. You know that. But just as he refused to confront this past, you repulsed the idea of your reality. You truly want to believe that you could escape this part of yourself and live a normal life. You couldn’t come to terms with your inability. You held onto your hopes as if your sanity completely depended on it. Another thing that won’t change no matter how much you grew.

“I'll be okay as long as I refuse to interact with this world.”

Once you leave the restaurant, you find yourself wandering through the rich streets of Minato city. It felt as though the night was pulling you further into its welcoming embrace, with nothing rushing you.

“He was only thirteen,” you chuckle, arm linked in his. “It’s unbelievable how bold kids nowadays are.”

“I would’ve done the same thing, honestly,” he smirks, his gaze fixed on the stores around.

“Of course. You’ve got the brains of a thirteen year old.”

Satoru grins at your remark, pulling you into a clothes store.

“What’s this?” you look around in confusion, noting a woman in a suit welcoming you. The place looked a little too fancy, judging by the display of the items and the lighting of the place.

“It’s a western brand,” Satoru answers. Looking over at him, you can’t help but smile a little. He looks good tonight. His fancy outfit gave the impression that he’s a model to strangers. “Louis Vuitton, I think,” He furrows his brows, trying to remember the name of the brand stores he’s been to with Nobara and Shoko.

“Prada, sir,” The lady in a suit corrected him. “Can I help you?”

“We’re just browsing, thank you.” It’s a phrase he heard from Kugisaki countless times whenever they wandered into a store. His response makes you chuckle, watching as the lady takes a few steps backwards politely.

You’re soon comfortable, searching through the expensive coats and bags. Satoru watched tenderly. Even though the ten years that passed with no contact whatsoever definitely propose a wall between you, he's glad you're able to feel free. You might nit on the same page, but you two can work with what you have.

You stride back to the “S” shaped velvet couch sat in the middle of the checker-carpet store, where Satoru sat. But he was nowhere to be seen.

You walk around in hesitance and confusion, completely aware of the lady walking always a few feet behind you. Surveillance, you guess.

You find him standing in front of the white counter, taking a black bag with the brand’s name printed onto it in golden letters from the man standing behind the counter in a white shirt with the brand's logo on it.

“Gojo,” you call him, confusion fused into your expression.

He extends his arm to you, trying to suppress any sourness at you calling him Gojo. “Let’s go?”

You nod, eyeing him suspiciously before you link your arm in his. You make sure to flash a grateful smile at the woman by the door as you walk past the reflective glass door.

You almost forgot how busy the world outside is. It felt as though the glass building of the store was sound proof. Now you have to adjust to the noise of the full streets again.

Satoru remains silent for the most part. It’s not awkward, rather just neither of you knew what to say. He expected you to ask about what he bought, which you have considered. You decide against it though as you feel it’s none of your business. You’re not too surprised anyway as Gojo has always been a wealthy man. He could buy the entire Prada chain with half of his monthly spending.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks. “Wanna go somewhere else?”

You think about going to the club to give the night the best closure. But neither of you were dressed for it anyway. You contemplate your choices. Then you grin at him, and Satoru knows it’s best to fear what comes after

You’re well aware that he has a high alcohol tolerance. While you would be wasted a few shots in. Yet you consumed so many drinks recklessly, thinking that maybe you could beat him in a drinking game.

That’s why he’s stuck to your side now, helping your sleeping body out of his car. Satoru is glad your hotel card was so easy to find in your purse, taking it out as he gets into the lobby.

A few people eye the man, glaring at him and at the way he held you in his arms. But he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. His mission is to get you to bed now.

“Satoruuu~” You whine, rubbing your face into the pillow once he sat you on the white bedding. “Stay with meeee”

And Satoru is nothing if not human. Despite what everyone else says. It’s proven now that he had come to face a human flaw like this. He is weak, and you are all but practically seducing him.

“Stop crying,” He mutters. He finds himself smiling sheepishly at the unlikely scenario he found himself in. Tucking you in bed, your face hot due to the drinks you had. He really should have stopped you. “I’ll stay the night, so sleep already.”

He convinced himself it’s for the best. He should watch over you for tonight. No funny business. Deep inside he knew he was just finding a reason— any reason to stay around you for a little longer, heart yearning for the lost years. But he ignored the pathetic feeling, convincing himself it’s for your sake instead.

“But I’m uncomfortableee,” you whine again, hands running down your body. “The dress...”

Did you have to make it so hard on him? Satoru is tempted to kiss you, eyebrows knitted in the space between, eyes looking around the room for any sort of aid.

This is probably a form of invading your privacy, but he sees no other choice. He’ll have to hold it together for tonight.

“nngh..”

Your groan came with an impending headache. Your body moves against the rich covers of the bed, sunlight illuminating your physique.

He stopped in his tracks, feet bare against the gray carpet.

Your form is beautiful, one to compete with statues of goddesses. The rays of light complimented every inch of skin in all the right ways. Satoru had to physically shake his head to stop the flowing perverted thoughts in his head.

Your flinch when you catch him standing near the door, heart beating slightly faster. You thought that you’re alone. You don’t think much of it anyway, muttering a “holy shit” under your breath.

“Good morning,” he casually greets, brushing off the mutual shock, albeit for different reasons. “I made coffee, if you wanted some.”

“Oh... thank you,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight. “Did you eat anything yet?”

“Not yet, no,” he says, holding his overly sweet coffee in both palms. “Thought I’d wait until you woke up.”

“You’re a real sweetheart, Satoru,” you yawn. His name slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You busy yourself with stretching your arms. “What a doting housewife God has blessed me with”

His response is only a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he sighs on the edge of the bed. “Well, at least I wasn’t begging a man to spend the night with me”

“Huh?”

You couldn’t remember anything of the prior night. Nothing that occurred after you sat at the bar, specifically. But then you begin to realize, eyes widening at the revelation. You feel dreadfulness landing in the pit of your stomach a little too late.

He’s shirtless, wearing only his suit pants. And even though you wouldn’t mind the sight any other day, the fact that you are in your pajamas isn’t helping at all.

“Did we...” You trail off, expression darkening. Your eyes meet his own, fear implanted in your pupils. You watch as his expression drifts from confusion to an awkward hesitance. Unsure how to break the news to you.

You don’t know what to expect, not realizing you’re holding your breath.

“I-I’m sorry,” He sighs, gaze faltering as his eyes look away from you. Your eyes widen further, oxygen becoming hard to consume.

What have you done?

“But- don’t worry. You know I’m not some asshole...” if anything, he sounded chivalrous. “I-I’ll be accountable for my mistake. When do you want to hold the wedding?”

You gasp, face feeling hot. “You piece of shit-“ You groan as your foot reaches him, forcefully pushing him off the bed. “As if!”

He breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound full of genuine delight. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” He manages between the laughter.

“Fuck you, Satoru,” you mutter, a smile of relief breaking across your face. “I can’t believe you pulled something so childish.”

“Why are you so down?” He climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot on the edge. “Are you disappointed? You know it’s never too late to just as-“

“Fuck off,” Your heart is pounding as you send him another kick, less forceful this time. “Say one more word about it and I’ll make sure you don’t make it out of this room in one piece.”

He laughs, asking you to pass his coffee. You reach for his coffee from the bedside table. Your fingers lift the glass mug to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage before handing it to him.

Your face scrunches up at the horrible taste. Too much sugar. Too much milk. It’s a lot worse than you might think.

“Your coffee should be criminal,” you push the mug his way, frowning. Satoru hums in response.

There’s no awkwardness between the two of you, and he can’t help but cherish it. He feels content, enough to sit a little closer, at least.

Enough to lean in towards you, mouth closing over yours in an ever awaited kiss, at least.

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daphwritesworld · 2 months ago

Note

Don't know if you write for her but if you do could you write some bottom ella toone smut please?

Ella Toone x Teammate!Reader

content: pussy eating (R receiving), fingering (E receiving), dom/sub relationship, Top!Reader, Bottom!Ella

warnings: locker room sex, Ella being a tease, Ella pushing your buttons, grumpy morning reader, mirror kink?

synopsis: Ella ignores you during practice so you show her how you feel about it in the locker room.

word count: 2.0k

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥♠♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

From the second you two woke up this morning, you swear Ella’s had it out for you. She must’ve made it her singular mission today to push all your buttons. It started out with her not waking you up on time. She’d swore she’d wake you up early enough to get your run in if you stayed over last night…now 15 minutes late as you're throwing your bag into the trunk of her car and steal the keys from her hand.

“Hey! What do you think you're doing, big man?” She makes a face as she says it, titling her head to the side as her eyes squint.

“Baby, we don't have time for this. Get in the car, I’m driving today,” you say it as a sigh. Sleep still present in your face and voice as the grumpiness still hasn’t worn off…especiellay because you didn’t have time for your daily jog!

“No! It's my new car, and you’ve driven it more than me!” She’s starting to whine at you now, the pitch and attitude of her words changing at the drop of a hat.

“Ella, please just get in the car. I want to at least be able to stop and get some coffee before practice,” you close your eyes as you pinch the bridge of your nose. You’re really trying to stay calm, the morning monster inside of you burying itself as you hear her open the passenger door. A dramatic sigh of “Fiiiiiinnneee!” leaving her lips before she shuts it and waits on you inside.

And everything was okay after that, until you pulled into the parking lot of the training facility. She immediately hops out, running off with her friends as she leaves you to get both of your bags. And of course you'll do it without complaint, but she'd usually at least walk with you as you did. Always complimenting your muscles as she makes the same Popeye joke she does every time— and you still laugh at it every time, too. You catch up and set her bag strap on her shoulder, not even getting to see her face as she just grabs it and keeps walking ahead of you. She then decides today's a good day to team up Alessia, running off calling to her as she leaves you to find another partner for drills.

You team up with Lucy and things seem to be going pretty good for a while…until Ella decides to take her shirt off halfway through. The sweat glistening off her body catches the reflection of the sun like she's a made of fucking diamonds. You lick your lips, being met with a salty sheen covering your own face. And just for a second you imagine it's from running your tongue up her abs, tasting her skin as you peel her bottoms off. You'd fuck her right here in front of everybody if you could..suck on her her nipples through her sports bra as she grinds her pussy down onto your thigh, and mark her as yours for everyone to see. Make them watch as you break her apart and put her back together, like a puzzle you know by heart. But alas that's illegal— so you won't…but you sure as hell fixate on it for the rest of practice. Like fuel to a fire, pushing you to be better as you try and burn the image out of your head for the moment. You can never have a moment of peace with Ella around.

Then when you guys are in the locker room? You swear she's giving you those fuck me eyes under her eyelashes, but that could also be the ragging desire for her that's brewing inside of you fueling some delusion. You've spent hours now trying to ignore the absolute mess between your thighs, and you think it's finally starting to drive you crazy. So when you hear the last of the girls telling you guys goodnight, your heart starts to speed up. You know as soon as the door closes— you're pouncing. And pounce you do.

Within seconds after the last girl leaves the room, your hands are all over Ella's body. Pulling, groping, caressing…you name it and you're doing it. She's letting out little moans as you explore her body, arching herself into your touch as she reaches to pull the sports bra off her head. "Go ahead, baby, Lemme see you," you say as you start kissing down her neck.

She pulls the undergarment off and flings it across the room. Her hands come to gather in your hair as she tries to guide your head towards her nipples. You chuckle at that, leaning up to stare down at her with that smirk on your face. "You really think I'm gonna give it to you that easy? Oh no, baby. You've got to earn it this time," you say it between kisses on her chest. Then you pulling away as you start stripping yourself, folding your clothes and sitting them down on the bench. A stark contrast to Ella's messily thrown around the room. "On your knees, love."

So she slides down onto her knees, head shooting up as you walk in front of her. Your naked body standing above hers as you step a leg being her, your dripping wet pussy only inches away from her face now. "Be a good girl and clean me up, then maybe I'll think about letting you cum. Understand?"

She lets out a whine at that, biting her lip as she gets lost in a trance as your pussy twitches right in front of her. "Y-yeah. I understand!"

"Good. Now stick your tongue out and don't fucking move," you yank her head back into position by her ponytail. A loud cry falling from her lips as her tongue sticks up to lay flat against your pussy. It's immediate the way you start grinding against it, chasing the euphoric feeling you know her mouth can give you. She starts moaning into your cunt as she watches you, eyes boring into the way your abs flex from the roll of your hips. You're using her body— her mouth for your own pleasure. And she fucking loves it. She loves the way she can feel when your are legs flex, knowing that you're close just from how hard the muscles beside her head are tensing up. She loves knowing all she has to do is ignore you at practice to get you this worked up.

Your own hands find your nipples— pinching and pulling as your hips start getting erratic. You both know you're close, but you bring a hand down to keep her head in place just to make sure. No letting anything take away this orgasm you've been needing since this morning. Your hips start jerking messily on her face, your cum running down her cheeks as she runs her tongue up through your folds. Cleaning up the mess she was the cause of. You groan out as a smile takes over your face, looking down as you watch her lap up everything you're giving her.

"Good fucking girl," you let it between pants as you start pulling away from her mouth. Hands going to pull her up and sit you both on the bench beside you. You throw one of your legs over the bench as you make her mirror you, pulling her back to your front as you're met with your reflections on the wall mirror in front of you. You run your hands over her body, taking in the way she shivers and wiggles around from the light touches. She's biting her lip— trying to keep all her whines and complaints in as she lets you have your way with her. "Look at yourself, baby. I won't touch you how you want until you do," It's said with a kiss to the back of her neck.

So without hesitation she meets her eyes in the slightly dirty mirror. It's a sight to behold for sure— she's flushed completely. A pretty light blush spread across her body as she heaves a little, breath speeding up the longer it takes for you to touch her properly. She's scanning over every inch of herself, watching as your hands start sliding their way towards her pussy with a relieved sigh. You start out with running your nails against her inner thighs, wanting to see them shake before you even touch her clit. You love her responsive she always is, so sensitive whenever you're touching her. It's like a bolt of lightening every time your fingertips touch her skin, and it ignites an explosion under her skin as she craves you even more.

You kiss her neck as you see her listening to you, your fingers from one hand sliding down to prod at her entrance. Ella's so wet at this point you can see it dripping down onto the bench below you, and when her fingers start sliding in? Well it doesn't take long for a little puddle to form underneath her ass. Eyes glued to the way your three fingers are bullying their way through her cunt, her eyes rolling back as her moans bounce off walls echoing in the room. Anyone in the hallway could definitely hear here clear as day, but you just simply didn't give a fuck. She'd been playing with fire today and she knew it— so now she's happily getting burned. You know it's happily from the way loud words of pleasure are falling from her lips as she's getting finger fucked… Exactly where she saw her captain tying her shoes this morning might I add. It's all too much for her, too dizzying, too taboo. She's letting you fuck her out the open— okay not really but anyone could walk in at any moment. And Ella isn't sure if this is exactly what she had planned when she decided to push your buttons today….but she isn't complaining right now. Right now she's screaming out your name, pussy gushing over your thick fingers shoved inside her tight cunt on display— for your eyes only.

She's reaching a hand down to your wrist, back arching off your chest as she announces she's on the edge. You weight your options real quick, you could deny her. Make her cry and sulk all the way home where you might let her cum….or you could give in. Let her scream out profanities in the one place you know she shouldn't be.

Yeah you totally fold…so with a sigh of you wrap a hand around Ella's throat— pulling her back for a kiss on the lips. Fingers still buried inside of her as your palm grinds into her puffy clit. Tears gathering in her eyes as she's pushed over the edge. "F-Fuck! I-I'm cummin, baby! I'm c-cummin!"

You can't help but whimper from the way her pussy clenches down so hard, squeezing your fingers out of her as she winces at the feeling of being emptied. Your fingers are pruny from being buried in her pussy for so long, not noticing how much time has passed since you both started.

"Oh dammit! We totally missed happy hour for those mini cheesecakes I see the ad for!"

You can't help the absolute chuckle that bubbles out of your chest, throwing your head back as tears gather in your eyes. "Please tell me you aren't seriously thinking about cheesecake after what we've just done?!"

"What? You know how to work a girls appetite up, that's all I'm saying!" and just like that you're doubling over as you push at her shoulder. Giving her a kiss on the forehead as you start to dress you both back up. It only takes about 10 minutes until you're both bundled up, ready to face the cold night air…but those plans are soon foiled. Every time you press on the door— it doesn't budge.

"I think we're locked in, Ells..."

"Of course we are…So do we risk social suicide and call the girls or you just wanna have a sleep over in here? It can't be THAT bad, right?"

"ELLA! Don't be fucking ridiculous!….I have a blanket in my locker. Of course we aren't calling anyone on the team."

#Ella toone smut #ella toone x reader #Ella toone x y/n #woso smut #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso writers #e.toone 7

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cecilysobsessions · 1 year ago

Text

STRIP THAT DOWN (m.) | gojo

↬ word count: 7k

↬ fem!reader, stripper!gojo, sub!gojo, inspiration comes from magic mike

↬ genre: fluff / smut

↬ summary: as the owner and operator of an all-male strip club, you cater to the women that prefer the pretty and feminine younger boys to give them lap dances. oddly enough, your most popular and most requested dancer is gojo satoru. he’s too muscular, too handsome, and entirely too annoying. and, of course, he doesn’t seem to be aware you find him irritating.

↬ warnings: gojo wearing lingerie, gojo begging, gojo got a finger fetish, gojo getting spanked, anal (m. receiving but unfortunately no pegging 😔), gojo bent over a desk, typos but pretend you don’t see them

↬ a/n: this is for everyone that love men who whimper (myself) also i just turned 21! 🎉

m.list

•••

“Your hands feel so soft,” he says more to himself than you. Then, “I wonder how they’d feel in my mouth.”

“What?” you stifle a laugh and smile.

“What?”

•••

As the owner and operator of an all-male strip club, it wasn’t exactly as fun as some might think.

You were constantly stuck helping your dancers adjust their g-strings between sweaty ass cheeks, constantly sewing back up ripped underwear, constantly throwing out people who got a little too touchy, and more gross things you’d rather not think about.

After being in the business yourself for several years, your boss had mentioned that you had an eye for running things, so you thought you’d give it a try yourself. You just didn’t think you’d end up running an all-male strip club.

You’re not sure how it happened—and you’d rather not focus on that right now because one of your dancers is waving a bra in your face, his voice frantic and panicked.

“BOSS! Hello?! I need help!” he aggressively waves the garment in front of your eyes.

“Why are you going to wear a bra for tonight’s show?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Suguru doesn’t even have enough chest to fit in that size!” you heard a voice from across the room. You were currently helping your dancers with a show tonight, stressed because your name was being called in a different direction every five seconds.

It was Gojo.

The brattiest, most entitled, self-centered, good for nothing employee of yours. Good God, every time he spoke you grew irritated, even if he wasn’t talking to you. Although he annoyed you to death with his overly talkative and cocky personality, he was the best dancer here.

Even though you catered to older women who preferred younger more feminine men, Gojo brought in the most money, brought more customers back, helped scout more dancers, and helped train the most. You hated to admit it, but he really was your most valuable employee.

“Don't body shame Suguru,” you half-heartedly scolded Gojo, watching him as you helped Geto.

Gojo was yanking up a pair of skinny jeans past his long legs, struggling to fit into them because his ass wasn’t exactly the flattest. Although skinny jeans might not be trendy right now, the long length and the plump curve of his ass suited it well. Somehow sensing your staring, Gojo turns to you, the corners of his mouth turning up into a sly smirk.

“What’re ya starin’ at?” he asks you with a seductive smile.

You gag. “Get pants that fit better next time.”

“Oh? Maybe I should just wear no pants then.” he teases and you respond with a roll of your eyes.

After helping the rest of your dancers with their various costumes, you gathered them for a quick before-shift pep talk.

“Alright boys, before we start tonight I want to let you know that one of our regulars, Mina, will be here tonight. Does anybody want to explain who she is to the newbies?”

“She’s an old rich lady who’s picky and has a shit ton of annoying ass requests that’ll make you want to rip your hair out and quit.” Gojo quickly chimes in.

Being the favorite of the club had its downsides. For private dances, Mina almost always exclusively chose Gojo. Although she tips him well, he always complains about her to you afterwards. Without fail. Every single time.

“And what kind of requests?” you ask Gojo so that he will explain to the newer boys.

“She’ll ask to touch a lot of things if you do a private dance for her. It’s up to you on what you’re comfortable with, but when we’re out on the floor, no one’s allowed to touch anything.” he explains.

Although Gojo himself could be annoying and a burden to deal with, he is good at what he does. Without him, your club would have shut down a long time ago.

“Alright, thank you, Gojo. Let’s have fun tonight, shake some ass and make some money!” you declare and your employees cheer with their fists up.

When you go to open the doors, the line outside begins to pile in. Nodding to your bouncer in acknowledgement, you watch the club goers by the entrance as you keep an eye out for your regulars or anyone who seems new. As you greet the women walking in, you feel someone bump shoulders with yours. Looking to your side, you look up to see Gojo standing by you in a silk robe and cowboy hat.

“Hey, boss.”

“Shouldn't you be getting ready?”

“I am ready. I got a cowboy bit tonight. The ladies will love it.” he tips his hat at you, playfully winking.

“I’m sure they will.” you spot Mina walk in, watching her take her usual seat towards the front of the stage.

“Will you watch me tonight?”

“No. I’ve got work to do in my office.”

You see Gojo look down and pout in the side of your eye. He’s disappointed. Well, he can stay disappointed. It’s not like this is the only time you can see him dance.

“But Mina is here. I’d feel more comfortable knowing you’re on the floor if she asks me for a dance. I don’t want her trying anything.”

“She won’t.”

“Still. Please?” Gojo’s eyes have a natural sparkle in them it’s hard to say no. The way he so effortlessly holds eye contact with you and begs you through his eyes pisses you off.

“We’ll see.”

•••

If there was one thing you didn’t want, it was any of your dancers feeling uncomfortable in the presence of any of your customers. Pushing aside all the paperwork that was piled up, you made your way to the floor when it was Gojo’s time slot.

You snaked your way through the back of the crowd, your eyes and ears struggling to adjust to the moving colorful lights and the wild screams and cheers from the women in the audience. You lean against a wall, watching Gojo as he gracefully circles a chair on the stage, sitting on it to hump the air aggressively as he rocks his hips to the slow slutty song he’s chosen for tonight. He seems visibly tense, but you don’t know why. When you look closely, you realize his eyes are searching for someone, perhaps Mina. You watch him feel himself up, hands moving to unbutton his shirt before he rips it off and throws it into the crowd of women.

His hands teasingly run over his nipples, squeezing his pecs as he teases his audience more by unbuckling his belt. He looks down at his belt before he takes it off, tossing that item into the audience too. His eyes look back up, continuing to look for someone.

Gojo makes eye contact with you.

Then, a smile of relief.

From then on to the end of the dance, you watch him visibly relax and loosen up a bit more. He’s feeling himself and having more fun, and you’re glad that you came out to watch him like he asked you to.

•••

You’re sitting at the bar massaging your temples with your fingers, a lousy attempt to soothe your worsening headache. You swear under your breath, regretting that you didn’t take painkillers the moment you began to feel your headache. Thankfully, the lights were dimmed and all your dancers had gone home so it was just you as you finished up your final paperwork for the night. You felt absolutely miserable doing it, though. Tonight was just one of those nights.

“Rough night?” you heard the entrance door being unlocked as a shadowed figure stepped in. Walking into the dimmed light, you watched Gojo approach you, a canned drink in his hand.

“Thirsty?” he offers, opening the soda can and handing it to you as he sits next to you, his knee brushing against your leg.

“I don’t even like soda,” your eyes linger on his leg that has brushed up against yours, ignoring the fact that he feels warm against you.

“Yeah, well, that’s the first thing I saw at the convenience store.” he chuckles obnoxiously, and you can’t help but continue to stare at his knee that is still brushed up against your leg.

“I thought you left,” you decide to ignore the warmth you feel from his long legs as you focus on doing your paperwork. You just want to go home. “I saw you leave.”

“I know you want to go home,” he answers, propping his chin on his hand and watching you write something down. “So I came back to help. You seemed a little off tonight.”

“I was not.”

“Was it because I came in late? Were you wondering why I was late when I’m never late?”

“You were late?!” you didn’t even notice.

“You didn’t even notice,” Gojo pouts, one of his hands coming down to rest on the surface, near the paperwork you’re doing. You can’t help but stare at his long fingers, your eyes tracing the prominent veins on his hand.

When you look up, his eyes are staring into yours through his sunglasses that sit crookedly on his nose. You don’t know if he was always sitting so close, but right now his face was leaning into yours, holding eye contact with you as his eyes gazed into yours. He blinks slowly, watching you for any sort of reaction to his stupid deep gaze.

“If you come in late again you’re fired.” you spit out in a panic and look back down to your paperwork. His stupid blue eyes were distracting you and you didn’t want him to know just how much it was affecting you. What was wrong with you?

He lights up, his smile reaching his eyes. He seems satisfied now that you’ve said something. “Yes, ma’am. Tell me what you need help with.”

“Just lock everything up.”

“That’s it?”

“And fix your glasses.”

“The crookedness adds to my sexiness. Anything else?”

“I don’t trust you to do anything else.”

“What about taking you home? Do you trust me doing that?” he playfully asks.

“I can get home just fine.”

“It’s not safe. And besides, can’t I spend time with my favorite person?” he teases, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.

“You really won’t leave me alone, huh?”

“I really don’t want to.”

“Gojo,” you begin. You didn’t have the time or energy to banter with him.

“Call me by my first name.” he asks, a slight pout on his pretty lips.

“That’s weird.”

“But you call Suguru by his first name. Why not me?”

You’re surprised he noticed a small detail like that. “No. And Gojo?” you say as you stand, wondering if he’ll pout about it again.

“Yes?” he’s standing up now, his eyes peering down into yours as he looks at you from up above. He’s more than a full head taller than you, and the fact that he’s staring down at you with an air of arrogance and his stupid smirk makes you want to put him in his place.

There is a moment of tension that rises. It hangs thick in the air and feels dependent on you. On what you will do. On what you will say. You’re not sure what makes it too weird compared to the other late nights you spent with Gojo closing.

Maybe it’s the dimmed lights or the late hours, but Gojo was looking at you with bedroom eyes so you forced yourself to look towards the door behind him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” you start packing up your stuff. Now that Gojo is bothering you, you decide that you’ll just finish everything at home.

“Wait,” his hand lands on the top of yours, his thumb slightly caressing your knuckles to stop you from gathering your things.

“I wanted to thank you for tonight. For watching me. For… for being there for me.” his voice fades, and you know it’s because he's feeling shy and embarrassed. He’s docile and quiet, something he often does when he gets vulnerable with you. You find it quite adorable.

“You’re welcome.” you go to ruffle his hair, but as you’re about to pull your hand away, he catches it one more, moving it so that you’re caressing his cheek. It’s soft, sculpted.

You watch him stare at you in awe. If anybody walked in at this moment, they would think it’s loving and intimate.

“I really thought you wouldn’t come out.” he confesses in a whisper, nuzzling against your palm as his eyes close in bliss.

“Clearly you thought wrong.” you don’t make a move to pull away, and neither does he.

When his eyes open, they are droopy. Gojo smiles softly, guiding your knuckles to his mouth as he presses a gentle kiss to them. When you give him a small smile, he kisses your hand again, this time it’s your ring finger. He kisses the back of your hand, then turns your arm so that he can kiss the inside of your wrist. And finally, his soft lips make their way to caress your palm as he kisses your hand one last time.

You’re not surprised Gojo is being physically affectionate with you. After all, he’s physically affectionate with almost everyone at the club, so it’s not weird to see him kissing people’s cheeks and giving bear hugs to every person he sees. But what he’s doing right now… it’s oddly intimate. Something you thought he’d never do. Especially since he isn’t saying anything playful or flirty. He’s completely serious right now, eyes unwavering as he watches for your reaction.

“Clearly I did.” He may not be kissing your hand anymore, but he’s holding it in his and studying it; watching it as if it’s fascinating. His thumb smooths over your skin, rubbing it gently with love. You feel your heartbeat speed up all of a sudden, your cheeks hot with embarrassment.

“Your hands feel so soft,” he says more to himself than you. Then, “I wonder how they’d feel in my mouth.”

“What?” you stifle a laugh and smile.

“What?”

•••

It was 10am. And Gojo was staring down at you, shades sitting on top of his nose, his eyes peeking out from underneath. You had given Gojo a spare key to your apartment in case of emergencies since he lives a little far from the club and you’re closer. He usually let you know in advance if he was coming over to crash at your place, and the times he did it was because it was too late and he was too tired to go to his own place. But today he decided not to and he knows you don’t get up until after noon so why the hell was he here now and what did he want?

“Get out.” you spat out, crankiness lacing your voice as you turned your body to the other side of the bed and covered your face with the blanket.

“It’s an emergency.”

“Call an ambulance.”

“But it’s a fashion emergencyyy,” he pleads, gently shaking your shoulder. “I forgot to buy lingerie for tonight’s show.”

Tonight was a Saturday night, which meant it was going to be busy. Lots of customers which meant lots of tips. On nights like these, Gojo always decided to dance to something more erotic, sexier than his usual dances. He had mentioned a couple nights ago that he wanted to try out lingerie for the weekend.

“Take Suguru. Leave me alone.” you shooed him away from under the covers.

“But you live closer to the mall. Pleaaaaase? I’ll buy you breakfast and your morning coffee.” he asked.

Your head peaked from beneath the blanket and you eyed his outfit. A black compression shirt and grey sweatpants. You looked away quickly, trying to ignore how well the shirt fit snug around his biceps and chest area, and how low his sweatpants hung on his hips you caught a glimpse of his v-line.

“Fine. But you come in early to help set up. Since you were late the other day.”

You tried to ignore the looks people were giving you at the mall, but you couldn’t help but notice how everyone’s stares lingered on Gojo, or how you saw women old enough to be your grandma giving googly eyes at Gojo everytime the two of you walked by. You knew he was attractive, so why did you feel a pang of jealousy anytime anyone stared at him in awe?

Gojo just had to wear the tightest and smallest clothes he could find. The way his pecs were so clearly defined from his stupid compression shirt and how tightly snug it was and how if you looked closely enough and for long enough, you’d notice the slight bump of his nipples through the thin fabric.

Not to mention his sweats. Fitted, but still loose. Fitted as in you could make out the shape of the curves of his ass as he walked, but loose around his hips that his sweatpants were barely hanging by a thread. It was distracting. Eyeing him again as he sifted through lingerie, you try to ignore the slight bulge through his pants.

“—don’t you think?” Gojo asks, turning to you and holding up the thinnest, sluttiest lingerie you’ve ever seen. It was black and thin and lacy and delicate looking. Gojo would definitely rip it while dancing.

“Too thin,” you shook your head, pretending to ignore whatever he said because you were too busy checking him out.

Turns out he noticed you staring. “You don’t even know what I said.” he tilts his head to look at you. Eyeing you up and down.

“I know what you said. I’m just ignoring you.” you brushed him off, suddenly self conscious and walking to another section of the store and searching through the different sets of lingerie.

“You were too busy looking at my tits to hear anything I said.” Gojo follows you, smirking down at you with his usual stupid arrogance that pisses you off.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Jealous because they’re bigger than yours?” his eyes slightly moved down to your chest, before gazing back up into your eyes.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Stop changing the subject. Here,” you picked up a bra and panty set that seemed more suitable for stripping. “You won’t rip this accidentally.” It was red and thicker and less lacy than the other set he picked up, but this one was definitely sexier and bolder.

“I’ll try it on.”

You assumed people thought you and Gojo were shopping for you because unless you’re being dramatic, you definitely felt stares of jealousy from random people who walked by. And when Gojo asked an associate to try on his clothes—hangers of solely lingerie, you ignored the stares again. You were sitting outside the dressing room when you felt your phone ringing and saw that it was Gojo.

“Come in and help me.” he immediately said when you picked up.

“What? Why?”

“It’s—it’s a little stuck. I can't take it off. Shit’s way too tight.” he whispers through the phone.

“Why did you put it on in the first place if it was too small?” you lectured.

“I thought I could take it off! I didn’t think it’d be this hard. Help me.” you could hear the desperation and panic in his voice through the phone.

You rolled your eyes, hanging up the phone and walking up to the employee by the dressing rooms.

“My friend needs help taking off their clothes. Mind if I go in?” she brushed you off with a wave and you walked into the dressing room area, trying to look near the floor to get a peek at which room Gojo was in.

“Gojo?” you whispered, hoping the other customers wouldn’t hear.

You instantly saw his hand come from beneath the dressing door, waving you towards him. When he opened the door and let you in, your eyes took in the sight in front of him.

He was right. The lingerie was way too tight around his body. The bra squished his chest together too tightly you saw a cleavage forming and it was for sure better than yours. Looking down at the panties had you staring at him in silence. It was too small you could see his dick slightly sticking out, his tip a soft pink.

“Stop staring and help me!” he stood there and whisper-yelled at you. His hands automatically covered his crotch and your eyes moved back up to his face. His face was flushed, almost looking like the afterglow after sex. His cheeks were a pretty pink and his eyes were looking everywhere but you. His eyebrows were furrowed in worry as he pleaded for your help.

“This is so embarrassing, please do something.”

You nodded, walking over to him and turning him around so his back was towards you and he was facing the mirror. You were going to start by trying to undo the bra clasp, but when you looked up, you saw Gojo watching you in the mirror. Ignoring him, you focused on the bra. Tugging at it, you finally got it open after fiddling with it and it snapped open immediately. Eyeing the marks it left on his back, your fingers lightly trace them in an attempt to soothe it.

“Turn around. Lemme see your front.” you demand, and he automatically turns to face you, his eyes watching your every move.

Your fingers move slightly over the red irritated skin on his chest. Almost like you were under some spell, you traced the red lines, gently rubbing them to soothe it. Gojo’s chest heaves and he lets out a breath he unknowingly was holding. When you look up, his cheeks are red and his lips are parted and he’s looking at you like he’s begging you to kiss him. You didn’t realize you were standing too close to him in this cramped dressing room.

“Gojo?”

“Yes?” His voice is breathy and light and barely a whisper. You could feel your heartbeat beating in your ears and the silence is way too loud and the only thing you can hear are the other customers outside changing.

You lay your hand flat down on his chest above his heart, wanting to see if he was feeling just as nervous as you. And he was. His heartbeat was a panicked rush and he was looking at you like he was waiting for you to make a move.

“Am I making you nervous?” you ask, leaning up towards him, your lips just inches from his.

“Yes.” his Adam’s apple bobs up and down in his throat, and he looks at you, gaze focused on you and you only.

“Is that all?” you ask, wanting more from him. You could tell he was turned on; you didn’t need to look down at his crotch to confirm it. His cheeks were flushed and his breathing was abnormal and he was looking at you like he was begging you to fuck him with his eyes.

“You make me more than just nervous.” he admits.

“Oh?” you waited, a silent beat hanging in the air.

“You make me hard too.” he confirmed, his voice a mere whisper.

Just as you were about to lean into him to kiss him, you heard a loud knock at the changing room door.

“Hey! We don’t allow more than one person in each stall!” the employee on the other side nagged.

“Oh, I’m just helping my friend take off their clothes!” you quickly step away from Gojo, turning around.

“You can take off the underwear by yourself, right? Hurry up!”

•••

Gojo is avoiding you.

Normally you’d be happy, relaxed, welcoming to that sort of behavior. But today it was weird. Ever since yesterday, he has been avoiding you like the plague. Even going so far as ignoring you completely when he walked in on time today and you tried to greet him.

Gojo almost never avoids; actually it’s always the opposite. When he’s not busy, he’s following you around like a puppy and carrying out any order you bark at him. Cleaning the tables, sweeping the floor, whatever it was, he was happy to do it for you. Only today he hasn’t spoken a word to you. Hasn’t even glanced at you.

So why did it bother you so much?

As you help set up the bar with Geto, your eyes follow Gojo’s movements as he moves across the floor, setting up the tables and chairs for tonight’s opening.

“Your eyes are drilling holes into him. Something happened between the two of you?” Geto asks by your side as you wipe a wine glass clean.

“He’s ignoring me.”

“That’s new. What’d he do?”

You think back to the last couple days. His lips on your hands. His soft, whispered tone as he stared into your eyes with those stupid bright blue ocean eyes of his. Then in the dressing room, how he became so obviously aroused by you just touching him slightly. How there was so much tension you would have fucked him right then and there if you weren’t interrupted.

“Who knows,” you shrugged it off, deciding to act like it wasn’t a big deal that Gojo was ignoring you. It totally wasn’t. Not at all. It wasn’t like you’ve been staring at him the moment he came in wondering why he won’t talk to you or anything like that. Not at all.

You’re not sure what happened tonight, but Mina stopped by to speak with you, concerned for Gojo.

“He wasn’t like his usual self tonight,” she told you. “It’s like his head was totally somewhere else. I didn’t even ask to touch his beautifully sculpted big rock hard cock like I usually do.”

“You didn’t need to tell me the last part, Mina.” you scrunch your nose in disgust at her words.

“I’m saying I’m worried. You should check up on the boy. Maybe you’re overworking him, eh?” she told you with a shake of her finger as she exited through the doors as the last customer.

You didn’t watch Gojo tonight and decided to stay in your office, so you wondered if that had anything to do with him not doing his best tonight. Wanting to find out, you started looking for Gojo throughout the establishment. The break room, the bathroom, the changing room, but he was nowhere to be found. Just when you walk back to your office to call him, you open the door to find him leaning against your desk, arms crossed across his chest.

“Who said you could come into my office?” you close the door, ignoring the fact that he’s leaning on your desk and wearing his stupid compression shirt and gray sweatpants.

He ignores you, instead, choosing to follow you behind your desk and stare at you some more. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Ignore me.”

“What? I’m ignoring you? Do you hear yourself? I tried to say hi to you when you walked in, and you pretended to not know I was there. You’re the one who’s been ignoring me.” you told him.

“You ignored me first.” he sighs in frustration, looking away with a pout on his pretty lips.

“Gojo, what’re you talking about?”

“Yesterday! In the dressing room. You almost kissed me. You know I wanted to kiss you too. Then after that, you just pretended like nothing happened. And I hate that you don’t call me Satoru.” he almost rolls his eyes, whining and complaining like a child.

Oh. So that’s what he was hurt about. He wasn’t wrong; you did kind of just brush off whatever happened in the dressing room and pretended like nothing happened. But that’s because you didn’t know how to deal with your feelings and you assumed he didn’t want you like that.

You’re fucking stupid.

“I’m sorry,” you stand up quickly, moving so that you’re standing in front of him. His legs part slightly, letting you stand in his personal space as he manspreads all over your desk.

“I just assumed you didn’t think much of it, and I didn’t want to look stupid if I made a move or said anything about it.” you confessed, watching him for his reaction.

“You do look stupid,” he jests, eyes lighting back up, empty of his worries and concerns. “I’ll forgive you if you call me Satoru. No more Gojo this, Gojo that. I want you to call me Satoru.”

You throw him a thankful smile. “Mina was worried about you. She told me today before she left. Said you weren’t doing your best.”

“Mina can go kick the bucket.”

You gasp and hit him jokingly. “Hey! She practically pays your rent!”

He wrinkles his nose in annoyance. “I got a bigger size for the lingerie. It got me my best tips ever.”

“Even though you were out of it tonight?”

“Yeah…” he says quietly, taking a moment to think to himself. “But I think I ripped it.”

“You should just buy a new one then. Don’t sew it up.”

“Hmm. I think you can sew it. At least take a look at it.”

When you reluctantly agree, Gojo spreads his legs a little further, his hands wrapping around your waist to pull you further into him. Your eyes automatically move down to his crotch as he presses you against it, the outline of his hardened dick against your legs. He swiftly takes off his shirt, the red bra sitting against his chest.

“You’re staring.” he observes aloud.

“No, I’m not.” you reply, your eyes trained on his hardened nipples that are practically peeking out through the lacy thin bra.

When you finally manage to tear your eyes away from his body and actually inspect the bra, you see that it’s actually in perfect condition and not ripped at all.

Then you realize what Gojo is doing.

“You idiot! You didn’t rip your stupid bra! You just wanted an excuse to take off your clothes.” you finally look up at his eyes with a glare. His stupid ocean eyes stare down at you arrogantly, a playful smirk painted on his pretty face as he sticks his tongue out at you.

“You’re totally right. I lied to you. How mean of me to lie directly to your face, huh?” he tells you sarcastically.

You raise an eyebrow at his sarcasm. Where was he going with this?

“I suppose I might need to be punished for that.” he says, his voice bored and waiting.

You take a moment to think about what he’s asking from you. It was obvious enough he wanted you the way you wanted him; his hardened cock was throbbing against your leg and his hips began to slightly move against your body, a subtle desperation for any sort of friction.

But what exactly did he want? Did he want you to suck him off, or bend you over the desk and fuck you? Gojo didn’t seem like the type to want to do that though; from his interactions with you, he was definitely one for harsh punishments that caused pain. Masochistic little bitch.

While you’re busy thinking, your eyes stay on his lips, perfectly soft and begging to be kissed. So you lean in, pressing a warm and pleasant kiss to his lips. Gojo almost immediately gives into your warmth, leaning in closer to you, his hands wrapping around your waist. He exhales a shaky breath against your cheek, kissing you back gently. When you pull back and look at him, he raises an eyebrow.

“That didn’t feel like a punishment.”

“What kind of punishment were you thinking of?” you ask, because you weren’t about to waste your time guessing.

“Oh, I don’t know… perhaps a couple of spanks might suffice. And maybe while I’m bent over your desk.” he wonders aloud to himself.

You laugh out loud. He’s definitely thought this scenario through. Without replying verbally, you grab Gojo by the front of his bra, aggressively yanking him towards you as you greet him with a kiss. This time it’s not as soft or gentle as the first one. You’re more aggressive this time, biting down on his bottom lip and licking the inside of his mouth. He moans into your mouth, his legs wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him. His moans are dripping with desire, so desperate for more as he kisses you harder, overly excited and clumsy.

“Pants off. Now.” you breathe into the kiss and pull away for a second.

But Gojo is still kissing you. Your cheek, the side of your mouth; any part of your skin he can reach with his mouth. His hands are shakily tugging at his jeans, impatiently trying to yank them down. His legs leave your waist and you yank him off the desk, roughly turning him around and bending him over your desk. Pushing your things aside, you finish stripping him of his pants and they pool at his ankles.

You look down at him, taking the sight of him in. The back of his neck is flushed red, one of his bra straps is falling down his shoulder, and his curved ass cheeks are rubbing against your legs, hungry for some sort of stimulation. He’s wearing a thong, the string between his ass cheeks thin and so easy to rip off.

Your hand caresses his ass, soothing his skin before you slap him lightly, curious as to how much he can take.

“Nghh,” he whimpers lowly. “Hit me harder.” he demands, arching his back and sticking his ass further up the air for you.

Cautiously, you smack his ass harder than the first time, and you watch his pale skin turn a bright red.

“More.”

You give in to Gojo’s demands once more, leaning over his back and smacking his ass. You lean close to his face as he lets out a high pitched whine.

“Quit telling me what to do, Satoru.” you harshly whisper in his ear, and he moans in return, excited to hear you call him by his first name for the first time. He rubs his ass against you again, whines of pleasure escaping his lips.

“Hnghh, spank me harder, please.” he asks you.

“You could beg a little more if you’re that needy.” you tell him with a slap to his ass, listening to the sweet sounds of his whines.

“Nghh, p-please… please…”

“Please what? What would you like me to do to you, Satoru?” you emphasize his name, enjoying his whimper of pleasure every time his name escapes your lips.

“I want more… more than your hands on my ass.” he’s quiet, almost shy and too embarrassed to admit what he really desires.

“What would that be, hm?” your hands place on his waist, your fingers rubbing in circles on his soft skin as you whisper into his ear. “Is it just more spanking you want? Or do you want me to fuck you?”

“Mmm, God, y-yes please. Please, please fuck me. I’m so hard and horny, please let me come.” he begs you, his voice high and whiny and desperate.

“How do you want me to fuck you?” your fingers make their way between his ass, ghosting over his hole as you kiss the back of his neck, sucking hard on his skin to mark him.

“Hnghh,” he whimpers, unable to reply.

“Answer me.” you demand, smacking his ass once more.

“F-fuck, ahh… your fingers. I-I want them in my ass. Stretch me out and fuck me until I cum, please.” Gojo finally voices, a breath of relief leaving his chest. “There’s lube in your left drawer.” he tells you, out of breath and impatiently waiting.

“Did you put that there without telling me?” you ask, taking it out from your desk.

“Yes, I’ve been waiting for this exact moment for months.”

“What a slut you are,” you laugh, yanking down his panties and pouring the cold liquid between his ass. He moans as you lean over him again, your finger rubbing at his entrance. “How long have you been wanting me to fuck you?”

“Mmm, since I started working for you.”

You didn’t realize Gojo had a thing for you for that long. He’s one of the OG employees that have been with you since you opened the club a couple years back. You thought it was odd he never dated much, but it turns out it was because he was too busy pining over you to consider anyone else.

While you’re distracted thinking about how long Gojo has wanted you, his voice draws your attention back to his body.

“C-Can you touch my… me, please.” he asks shyly.

“Where?”

“My cock, please.”

You smile, glad he was clearly asking for what he wanted from you. You reach down to grab his dick, stroking it firmly as your other hand works on his ass. His tip is already wet with pre-cum, and his hips are thrusting in your hand as he moans with every stroke from you.

“You’re dripping wet,” you tell him. “Ready to cum already?”

“Haaaah, I want to cum from your fingers. I bet they’re gonna feel so good inside me.” he says. Then, “you can put one finger in. I’m ready.”

You happily oblige, slowly and steadily entering his hole with one finger, and he immediately tightens around you. Your lips stay on his neck, peppering him with small kisses to aid him through the process.

“Good job, Satoru. You’re taking it so well.”

“Haaah, I love it when you call me by my name.” he tightens around you after he hears you using his name, his hardened cock throbbing in your hand as you loosen him up.

You slowly work him open, kissing and sucking and licking his skin as he shudders and moans beneath you. But your walls are thin and Gojo is too loud. His moans are growing louder the more you fuck him with your fingers, and you’re getting worried someone might somehow hear even though it’s after hours.

“You’re too loud.” you tell him, roughly shoving your fingers into him as a small punishment.

You should’ve known he was going to enjoy it.

“Unghh,” he whimpers, louder than his other moans. His back arches once more, shoving his ass into your fingers and clenching around you, desperate for more. “C-can’t help it. Feels too good.” he moans out.

Your other hand leaves his front, covering his mouth with your palm. He moans as you continue fucking him, your office dead silent besides his moaning and the sound of your fingers fucking him. You feel his tongue against your hand, licking his leftover pre-cum off your hand.

“Filthy slut,” you tell him, and he tightens around you in response, sticking his tongue out so you can shove your fingers in his throat.

His mouth is warm and his tongue wraps around your digits, taking them into his mouth and sucking. His eyebrows draw together and he closes his eyes in pleasure, trembling with pleasure. He’s practically fucking himself on your fingers, hips moving on their own as he chases his high. You finger him roughly, leaning down to leave hickeys on his neck as he continues to thrust into you and suck and moan on your fingers. He practically screams in pleasure when you take him over the edge, his hips stuttering as he spurts on your floor. He breathes heavily against you as you rub his ass, your other hand leaving his mouth.

“Good?” you ask after a couple minutes of letting him catch his breath.

“Call me by my first name.”

“Satoru?” you ask and he stands back up and turns around to look at you.

You laugh at the sight of him: pants pooled at his ankles, hair tousled and sticking to his forehead with sweat, and cheeks red, and his bra barely hanging on.

“Why are you laughing at me,” he pouts, pulling his sweats back up in embarrassment.

“I didn’t know you liked being fucked like that.” you point out, wiping your hands.

“Well, I am a filthy slut.” he winks, his hands coming up to your shoulders and guiding you to sit in your office chair. “My turn.”

“Clean your jizz up first.” you nod towards the spot on the floor where he finished.

His cheeks flush. “After I eat you out.”

•••

a/n: yall i was too lazy to write the second smut scene so use your imagination 😂 i’m too excited to write my enemies to lovers zuko story so stay tuned! (btw i totally named this fic after that one song by liam payne lmao)

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