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tiiraameesu · 3 months ago

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The One That Got Away Pt.5

Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

Synopsisજ⁀➴ Gojo is a charismatic college student, known for his carefree approach to relationships, never letting things get too serious. You are his longtime best friend and have quietly harbored feelings for him but never acted on them, knowing Gojo’s aversion to commitment. But when Gojo shares an unexpected connection with another girl, the dynamics between them start to shift. As the lines blur between friendship and something more, you are left grappling with your emotions—unsure of whether you'll be able to stay by Gojo’s side, or if it’s time to move on.

tagsજ⁀➴ college au, hockey player!gojo, band member!reader, angst, slow burn, eventual friends to lovers (maybe), gojo is dumb af, you might dislike gojo in this im sorry, very very mild geto x reader

NOTESજ⁀➴ hiii sorry for the late upload but i was really not feeling myself the past few days (BECAUSE OF A GODDAMN MAN FFS) but yeah hope you enjoyyy sorry if there are any errors i really dont have the mental capacity for this rn lol HAHAH

wcજ⁀➴ 6.0k

taglineજ⁀➴ @kaemaybae @laviefantasie @higuchislut @domilovestoru @aishies-stuff @genxnarumi @username23345 PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

It was lunchtime, and the hallway was as chaotic as ever. Students were clustered in groups, exchanging gossip, laughing, or heading out to the courtyard for a break. You were trying to keep a low profile, hoping to slip past unnoticed, and find a quiet corner to eat away from the noise.

After everything that happened last night, you had been avoiding Gojo like the plague.

The touch of his hand on your cheek, the way his eyes softened in a moment that felt far too intimate—it had all left you spinning, and you couldn’t risk seeing him again, not while your heart was still tangled in those messy feelings.

So far, you had been successful.

The steady hum of voices and the shuffle of footsteps filled the hallway as you maneuvered through the throng of students, clutching your packed sandwich to your chest. Your goal was simple: find a secluded corner, eat in peace, and get through the day without running into him.

But that was easier said than done.

Every time your thoughts wandered back to last night, your chest tightened.

His hand, his touch, the way his eyes softened like he’d forgotten the world around him for just a second—it was like a loop you couldn’t turn off.

Your heart did a traitorous flip as you remembered the way he had cupped your cheek, so tender and yet so fleeting. The moment had felt like a spark in the dark, dangerous and intoxicating.

You shook your head, trying to force the memory out. He has Mina. You’re just a friend. You clenched your fists and sped up, determined to focus on literally anything else.

The cafeteria was too crowded, so you ducked into one of the quieter hallways, your eyes scanning for an empty classroom or a nook where you could hide away.

But then, as you turned a corner, you saw it—his unmistakable figure leaning against a locker. That familiar white hair caught the sunlight streaming through the hallway windows, making him stand out like he always did. He was laughing at something a friend had said, his grin easy and magnetic, but it was when he turned slightly that your heart lurched.

His blue eyes.

The same blue eyes you had seen so many times, always full of life and teasing, but now they felt like they were seeing straight through you. For a fleeting moment, it was as if he was looking directly at you—at the you you never showed anyone else. The you that had spent years harboring feelings for him in silence.

Panic set in. Without thinking, you spun on your heel and walked away as fast as your legs would carry you.

What the hell was wrong with you?

You had seen Gojo a thousand times before, but today, just the mere glimpse of him had your heart racing like you’d run a marathon. The way he had looked at you—No.

You didn’t want to think about it.

You’ve been avoiding him for a reason.

You ducked down a side hallway, pressing your back against the cool wall as you tried to catch your breath. It was ridiculous, really. You’d seen Gojo a thousand times before, spent hours by his side, laughed at his terrible jokes—but now, just the mere sight of him had your heart racing like you’d run a marathon.

Get it together. He’s still the same Gojo.

Except he wasn’t.

Not to you.

Not after last night.

Last night had stirred up feelings you’d tried so hard to suppress, the ones you had neatly boxed away the day he announced his relationship with Mina. You had no right to feel this way, no right to replay that moment when he cupped your cheek like it was something more.

And yet, your traitorous heart clung to the memory of his touch and his gaze.

No. You shook your head, as if the motion could physically dislodge the thoughts.

You couldn’t let yourself fall into that trap, couldn’t confuse his vulnerability for something it wasn’t. Even if he was unsure about Mina, it didn’t mean there was a place for you in his heart.

You closed your eyes, pressing your palms to your face, as if you could push the thoughts away. You had to get a grip. This was getting out of hand.

You couldn’t keep doing this—letting his proximity send your heart into overdrive. You had to forget the way he made you feel. Forget the way his touch had made your skin burn with a desire you couldn’t place.

But even as you stood there, trying to gather yourself, one thought refused to leave your mind:

Had Gojo felt it too?

And that thought was the most dangerous one of all.

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The last bell rang, signaling the end of the day, and you couldn’t have left the classroom fast enough. The entire day had been an exhausting exercise in avoidance and pretense, and all you wanted now was to go home, lock yourself in your room, and forget Gojo Satoru even existed—if only for a few hours.

The hallway was bustling with students chatting and making plans for the evening, but you kept your head down, weaving through the crowd like a ghost. Your phone buzzed in your pocket again, and you didn’t have to guess who it was.

You had been ignoring Gojo’s messages all afternoon. His texts had started out innocuous enough: “Hey, barely saw you around during lunch. Didn’t feel like hanging out?” “You sick or something? Or are you sick of me!?”

And then, as if he’d gotten bored waiting for a reply: “You missed it—Suguru tried to eat an entire slice of pizza in one bite. Spoiler: it didn’t end well.”

There was no malice in his words, no suspicion—just the usual carefree banter you had come to expect from him. But even that was enough to tie your stomach in knots. How could he be so normal, so casual, after everything that had happened? Did last night really not faze him at all?

The thought stung more than you cared to admit, so you didn’t open his messages. Instead, you stuffed your phone deeper into your pocket and focused on making it to the school gates without incident.

You mentally mapped out your evening as a distraction. Go home. Have an early dinner. Play the guitar until my fingers hurt or my bones are too tired to think. It was a good plan. It would keep your mind busy, keep you from replaying last night over and over until you drove yourself mad.

You reached the last hallway leading to the front gates, the sunlight filtering through the windows casting golden streaks on the floor. The crowd had thinned out, and the air felt quieter, calmer. You were almost free.

But just as you exhaled, feeling the tension in your shoulders begin to ease, you felt it—a hand wrapping around your arm, pulling you back.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you turned to see him.

“Satoru,” you breathed, his name coming out like a reflex.

He was standing close, a little too close, his usual easy grin plastered across his face. His white hair caught the light in a way that made him seem almost unreal, and those blue eyes—those infuriating, magnetic eyes—were locked onto yours.

Gojo’s grin widened as he tilted his head, looking far too pleased with himself. “Finally caught you,” he teased, his voice carrying that trademark playful lilt. “Do you know how hard it’s been to track you down all day? It’s like you’re a little mouse scurrying around trying not to get caught.”

You blinked, heat rushing to your face at his analogy. “A mouse? Really?”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. “What else do you call it when someone’s dodging you at every turn?”

“I wasn’t dodging you,” you said quickly, though your voice betrayed your nervousness.

“Oh, really?” he drawled, raising a skeptical brow. “So skipping lunch and disappearing before I could even say hi after class was just a coincidence?”

You looked away, scrambling for an excuse. “I—I’ve just been busy, that’s all. I’m actually headed home now,” you added, hoping to change the subject. “I wanted to get some practice in.”

“Practice?” he asked, intrigued.

��Yeah,” you said, gesturing vaguely. “On my guitar. Just thought I’d get some extra practice in since the shows nearing, so I figured I’d spend the evening catching up.”

Gojo pressed a hand to his chest, staggering back as though your words had physically wounded him. “Aw, seriously? I was hoping we could hang out.” His voice was exaggeratedly dramatic, as if you’d shattered his grand plans for the evening.

His words hung in the air, and despite everything—your resolve to keep your distance, the plan to distract yourself into oblivion—those two little words were already tempting you to cave in.

Hang out.

You couldn’t help it. Your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat at the mere thought of spending time with him again. It was ridiculous, really. You’d spent the entire day avoiding him, dodging his messages and steering clear of any chance encounters. But now? The idea of hanging out with Gojo—of just being near him—was irresistible.

You swallowed, trying to keep your expression neutral. “You want to hang out?” you asked, a little too casually, as though his words hadn’t just thrown your day’s plans out the window.

“Yeah,” he said, his grin softening into something less playful and more genuine. “I mean, unless you’re too busy shredding on your guitar to spare a little time for your best friend.” He wiggled his eyebrows dramatically, his playful tone making you smile despite yourself.

The word best friend stung a little more than it should have, but you ignored it, focusing instead on how your chest warmed at the thought of being with him again. “I don’t know…” you said, pretending to deliberate, even though your heart had already decided for you.

Gojo leaned in slightly, his eyes sparkling with mock urgency. “C’mon, just for a bit. I swear, I’ll even cheer you on at your next show. Front row, obnoxious applause and everything.”

A laugh escaped you before you could stop it, and you hated how easily he could draw it out of you. “Fine,” you said, rolling your eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “But if I bomb at my next performance because of this, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” he said, his grin widening as he took your hand without hesitation, tugging you along toward the gates. “You won’t regret this, I promise. I’ve got the perfect spot in mind, discovered it only recently. Snacks on me.”

You let him lead the way, the warmth of his hand in yours sending a rush of emotions you tried to bury. Despite your earlier resolve to avoid him, you couldn’t deny it—being with Gojo felt like slipping into something familiar and comforting, even if it hurt a little too.

Because no matter how much you tried to fight it, you loved him. And even if this was just a fleeting moment, you couldn’t help but want to hold onto it for as long as you could.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Gojo led you through the streets with a bounce in his step, his hand never letting go of yours. A crinkling bag of snacks dangled from his other hand, and his cheerful chatter filled the space between you. He was talking about something—probably a random observation or one of his over-the-top stories—but you barely registered the words. You were too focused on the warmth of his hand and the effortless ease in his demeanor.

The path he took wasn’t unfamiliar, but the destination was. He led you to a quiet park just off the main street, where the late afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, painting everything in golden hues. The spot he’d chosen was tucked away, with a low stone wall overlooking a small pond surrounded by reeds. It was peaceful, almost serene, as if the world outside had melted away.

“Perfect, right?” Gojo said, grinning as he plopped himself down on the wall and gestured for you to join him.

You hesitated for only a moment before sitting beside him, close enough that your knees almost touched. He opened the bag of snacks, offering it to you with a flourish. “Snacks for the lady,” he said with mock chivalry, making you roll your eyes.

You took one and nibbled at it, letting the calm atmosphere settle over you. For a while, neither of you said anything. The sound of birds chirping and the gentle rustle of leaves filled the air, and for the first time all day, you felt yourself relax.

Gojo leaned back on his hands, his gaze fixed on the pond. “Y’know, I found this place by chance when I was kinda stressed out last time,” he said, his voice unusually soft. “Kinda nice, isn’t it? Like, everything feels quieter here.”

You hummed in agreement, not trusting yourself to speak. It was dangerous, being here with him, letting yourself sink into the illusion of normalcy. Was it wrong to indulge yourself in this moment, knowing what you knew?

Despite knowing he didn’t love you back?

Despite knowing he had a girlfriend?

Your chest tightened at the thought, but you forced a small smile, biting into another snack as a distraction. This wasn’t about what you wanted or what you felt. Gojo didn’t see you that way—he had Mina, and whatever issues he was working through with her, it didn’t change the fact that you were just a friend to him.

And yet, sitting here beside him, it was so easy to forget all of that. It was so easy to let yourself believe, just for a second, that things could be different.

“Hey,” Gojo said suddenly, breaking your train of thought. He leaned closer, tilting his head to get a better look at your face. “You okay? You’ve been quiet. Not like you to let me talk this much without interrupting.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden proximity. His eyes, impossibly blue and full of concern, searched yours, and you felt your breath hitch.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, looking away. “Just… tired, I guess.”

He didn’t seem convinced but didn’t press further. Instead, he straightened up, a teasing grin replacing his concern. “Well, don’t fall asleep on me now. I dragged you all the way out here, you know. I’d be very offended if you just nodded off.”

You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head. “I won’t, don’t worry.”

Gojo let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, throwing himself back dramatically with his arms spread wide. “Phew, good. I’d hate to think my company is boring you to sleep. I’m basically a walking entertainment show, y’know.”

He grabbed a stray blade of grass and twirled it between his fingers, then grinned mischievously. Without warning, he started blowing on it, attempting to make that sharp, whistling sound kids often do. Instead, the grass snapped, and the noise came out as an awkward spluttering.

You chuckled, shaking your head at his antics. “Seriously? How old are you again?”

“Old enough to do this,” he retorted, plucking another blade and trying again with even more gusto. This time, the noise was louder but hilariously off-pitch, sounding more like a dying bird than anything else.

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing, clutching your sides as the ridiculousness of it all settled in. Gojo grinned triumphantly, tossing the grass aside. “See? Told you I’m good for a laugh.”

He leaned back again, resting his weight on his hands as he watched you. There was something softer in his expression now, a quiet kind of satisfaction that made your chest ache.

“Man,” he said after a moment, his voice teasing but with a hint of genuine warmth. “I like that laugh of yours. You should do it more often.”

You looked away, your cheeks growing warm. “Don’t start,” you muttered, but the smile lingering on your lips betrayed you.

Gojo stretched, letting out a groan of exaggerated exhaustion. “All this work to keep you entertained is killing me. I need to recharge.” Before you could react, he flopped over dramatically, his head landing in your lap.

Your breath hitched as you froze, staring down at him in disbelief. “Satoru, what are you—”

“Shhh,” he interrupted, closing his eyes as he nestled against your legs. “This is perfect. You’re comfy, the sun’s warm, and I’ve earned this, don’t you think?”

“Earned this?” you repeated incredulously, your voice wavering between annoyance and amusement.

“Absolutely,” he said, smirking up at you without opening his eyes. “Besides, you’re not gonna push me off, are you? You’re too nice for that.”

He had a point, and the smug look on his face told you he knew it. You sighed, trying to will your heart to stop pounding in your chest. Despite everything—his audacity, his obliviousness, the complicated mess of feelings swirling inside you—you couldn’t deny that this moment, however fleeting, felt impossibly right.

Gojo stayed draped across your lap like he belonged there, his trademark grin fixed on his face. “You know,” he began, his tone casual but carrying a subtle undercurrent of something unspoken, “this is probably the most comfortable I’ve been all week.”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to let your heart betray you. “Is that so?” you said lightly, though the memory of last night—the way his hand had lingered against your cheek, his gaze piercing and unrelenting—still clung to you like a shadow.

“Definitely,” Gojo replied, shifting slightly to get more comfortable against your lap. “This spot? Ten out of ten. You’re like the perfect mix of firm and soft, you know? Like one of those expensive memory foam pillows.”

“Wow, thanks for the glowing review,” you said dryly, though your lips twitched at his ridiculous analogy.

“Hey, it’s a compliment!” he said, feigning offense. “You should be honored. Not just anyone gets to be Gojo Satoru’s personal recliner. Consider yourself chosen.”

You let out a soft laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you keep me around. Wonder why that is,” he teased, tilting his head ever so slightly, though his eyes remained closed.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you let the words hang in the air, letting him fill the silence the way he always did—with his rambling, carefree charm.

“And another thing,” he went on, oblivious to the way your heart was twisting. “This week has been a total grind. Like, I had two papers due, plus that ridiculous group project. Do you know how hard it is to be the brains and the beauty in a group? Exhausting. But here I am, thriving, because I’m built different.”

You bit back a smile, letting his voice wash over you like a soothing tide. He always managed to make the world feel a little less heavy, even if he had no idea how much weight you were carrying.

As he continued to talk—something about his epic debate with a professor over the meaning of “deadline”—your gaze softened. His face was so unguarded like this, the usual spark of mischief in his expression muted by the gentle glow of the afternoon sun.

Before you could stop yourself, your hand moved, your fingers grazing the silvery strands of his hair. It was soft, softer than you’d imagined, and as you absentmindedly combed through it, a quiet calm settled over you.

As your fingers threaded gently through Gojo’s hair, his voice began to falter. Words trailed off into nothingness until he finally stopped talking altogether. The silence that followed was thick but not uncomfortable—just the sound of the breeze and distant laughter from others in the park.

You didn’t realize how intimate the moment had become until it swallowed you whole. The quiet was startling, and with it came the sharp awareness of what you were doing. Your hand froze, and you quickly pulled it away, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

“Sorry,” you murmured, flustered, your cheeks burning as you tried to look anywhere but at him.

“Don’t.” His voice was soft but firm, grounding you instantly. You glanced down to find his eyes open now, half-lidded and gazing up at you with an expression that made your heart stutter. “Don’t apologize.”

You hesitated. “I didn’t mean—”

“Just keep doing it,” he interrupted, a rare seriousness in his tone. Then, as if to break the spell, he smirked. “It’s nice. You’re pretty good at this, you know. Ever consider a career in pampering me full-time?”

You rolled your eyes, but a shy smile crept across your face. “Don’t push your luck.”

He closed his eyes again, his grin softening into something less playful, more content. “No promises,” he mumbled, his voice lower now, almost a whisper.

Your hand moved again, your touch hesitant at first but growing steadier as you combed through his hair once more. The silky strands slipped through your fingers effortlessly, and you swore you could feel his breathing even out beneath your touch.

The moment lingered, impossibly sweet and unspoken, a fragile bubble of time neither of you wanted to pop. And for now, that was enough.

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A few hours had passed in what felt like an instant. You and Gojo had fallen into an easy rhythm, laughing, talking, and sharing bits of your lives with no real agenda. It was... nice. Comforting, even.

But as the sun began to dip lower on the horizon, the reality of the situation started to settle in. Gojo stretched and sat up from your lap, groaning as he wiped at his eyes. “Guess it’s time to head back,” he said, his voice a little reluctant, though there was a hint of playfulness in his tone.

You nodded, slowly standing up as well, feeling the stiffness in your legs after sitting for so long. Gojo grabbed his jacket, tossing it over his shoulder, and started to gather his things. But just as he was about to turn toward you, his phone buzzed—loudly, insistently. He glanced at it, and his easygoing expression faltered for a second.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. He looked down at the screen, eyes scanning the stream of missed calls and texts that had piled up. Mina.

You could see the flicker of tension in his posture as he cursed again, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He turned to you with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I kinda lost track of time. Mina’s been blowing up my phone.”

You forced a smile, nodding, even though the pit in your stomach grew a little heavier. “It’s fine. You should probably call her back.”

“Yeah, I guess I should.” He sighed, the weight of the situation settling into his voice. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick.”

With that, Gojo stepped away from you, his steps taking him farther down the path toward a more secluded area of the park. You stayed put, arms crossed loosely as you sat back down on the grass, trying to push the knot in your chest aside.

From your spot, you could see Gojo standing a few feet away, his posture tense as he pulled his phone back out. The conversation had already started, his tone shifting into something more serious as he swiped to answer the call.

“Mina,” he said, his voice soft but carrying an edge of apology. “Hey… yeah, I’m sorry, I kinda lost track of time.”

You couldn’t help but glance over at him as he spoke. He ran a hand through his white hair, his back slightly turned so you couldn’t hear Mina’s words, but you could see the slight furrow of his brow. He was listening intently, nodding occasionally, and even though you couldn’t hear her responses, you could tell by his body language that the conversation was serious.

Your heart gave a little twinge as Gojo’s smile faded and was replaced with a more apologetic look. His voice was quieter now, more restrained. “I didn’t mean to worry you, Mina. I just… I was hanging out with a friend, and time slipped away. I didn’t realize how late it was.”

You bit your lip, looking away quickly to hide the faint ache in your chest. You knew this wasn’t something you could control, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear. The knowledge that he was apologizing to her, his girlfriend, for his time spent with you felt like a weight you weren’t sure you could carry.

For a moment, you entertained the thought of standing up and walking away, leaving them to their conversation in peace. But you stayed rooted in your spot, as if listening to the gentle rustle of the trees and the occasional snippets of Gojo’s words could somehow keep you tethered to this fleeting moment.

“I’ll make it up to you, okay?” Gojo continued, his tone soft and sincere. “How about we go out tomorrow, just the two of us?”

Your breath caught, but you quickly brushed it off. Of course, Gojo would make plans with Mina. She was his girlfriend. He cared about her.

But still, as you watched him nod and smile into the phone, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if you had asked him to stay a little longer, or if you’d been more honest about your feelings.

It was foolish, you knew. There was no place for you in that world, not when Mina was already there. Yet, as you glanced at Gojo’s back, his posture slightly relaxed but still tense, you couldn’t help but feel the sting of his words echoing in your chest.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Gojo said softly, his tone lightening a little as he spoke. “Love you.”

The words hung in the air like a dagger, though they were clearly meant for her, not you. And as he ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket, you forced yourself to smile when he turned back toward you, walking toward your spot with a quiet sigh of relief.

“You good?” he asked, his easy smile back in place as he neared you. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

You nodded, standing up as he got closer. “No problem,” you said softly, though you couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

As you both walked down the path, the city’s hum barely reached you through the quiet night, the only sound the crunch of your footsteps on the gravel. Gojo was walking beside you, his usual upbeat energy slightly toned down but still present in the easy way he moved. There was a comfortable silence between you, but it wasn’t long before your thoughts began to wander back to the conversation he’d had with Mina.

You couldn’t shake the lingering curiosity about how things were between them now, especially after what he’d said the day before. Without really thinking, the question slipped out.

“So… how’s everything with you and Mina? You were venting a bit yesterday, so I was wondering.”

Gojo hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting to the sidewalk ahead of him. There was a flicker of uncertainty, but it didn’t last long. He shrugged casually as if he hadn’t really given it much thought.

“I mean, it’s a work in progress, I guess,” he said with a slight grin, his tone relaxed. “I haven’t really told her about everything that’s been on my mind. Figured it’s something I should handle myself.”

He paused for a second, as though considering his words before continuing, his tone still light, almost like he was describing the weather.

“But I’m trying to sort my feelings out. That’s all I can really do right now.”

You nodded, a soft hum escaping you as you processed his words. There wasn’t a heavy burden in his voice, just a simple acknowledgment of the situation. He wasn’t looking for sympathy, just stating facts.

The silence between you two lingered, the weight of unspoken things hanging there, until Gojo shifted in the air, as if easing the tension that had quietly settled in.

“Relationships, huh?” he muttered, his eyes on the ground. “They’re complicated. People always expect something from you—attention, validation, whatever it is. And it’s exhausting, you know?”

You looked at him curiously, sensing the slight shift in his demeanor, the rare flicker of something more vulnerable beneath the usual carefree surface.

Gojo glanced up at you, that familiar grin slowly pulling at his lips. “But you, you’re different. You don’t want anything from me. You’re not looking for anything—just here, in the moment. It’s like you just… want to be here, and that’s enough. It’s rare. And honestly? I appreciate that more than you know.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his straightforward comment, but it didn’t seem like he was fishing for a response. It was almost like he was just observing things as they were. He shot you a grin, his usual playful energy returning.

“Anyway, that’s just how I see it. No big deal,” he added with a casual shrug, as though he hadn’t just shared something unexpectedly honest.

You couldn’t help but smile a little, the ease of his words making everything feel lighter. “Well, I guess I just don’t like bothering people with my stuff. You’ve got enough on your plate already.”

Gojo’s smile softened, but it stayed light, like the conversation was just another passing thought in the night. “You’re not bothering me. Never.” He paused, his gaze meeting yours for a brief moment before continuing, his voice unchanged. “That’s why it’s easy to talk to you. No pressure, no expectations. It’s nice, actually.”

The way he said it made it feel like a simple fact, no weight behind it. It was just Gojo being Gojo—easygoing, direct, with no hidden meaning.

You nodded, feeling a small sense of relief settle in your chest, even though the curiosity still lingered. You didn’t need to dissect it now. There’d be time for that later.

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it,” you said, the smile still hanging on your lips. “Just don’t go getting all sentimental on me now.”

Gojo chuckled, the familiar grin returning as he nudged you lightly with his elbow. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you continued walking, the night stretching out ahead of you. There was no tension in the air, no heavy unspoken words. Just two people walking through the quiet streets, each with their own thoughts and the faintest sense of understanding passing between them.

As you reached your door, the night’s quiet settling around you, you turned to Gojo, feeling a mix of gratitude and confusion still lingering in the air. You could feel it—the weight of everything unspoken between you two, the subtle tension from earlier now thickening in the cool night.

“Thanks for walking me home,” you said, your voice lighter than it had been earlier, but still threaded with something unidentifiable. You gave him a small smile, but it was different this time, more open, almost a little hesitant. You didn’t know why, but it felt like there was something hanging in the balance between you two.

Gojo nodded, his usual playful grin softened by something else in his eyes. “Of course. Wouldn’t leave you to walk alone.”

You stood there for a moment longer than you expected, the night stretching on, and something about it felt strangely familiar. The world around you seemed to blur for a brief second, and for a heartbeat, it was like you’d been here before—standing exactly like this, talking to him, just like yesterday.

And for a moment, it felt like déjà vu.

Before you could fully process the thought, Gojo spoke again, his voice softer, more sincere than you’d heard it all night. “You’ve been spacing out a lot today. You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his gaze lingering on you. There was an intensity to it, like he was seeing something in you that you hadn’t shared.

For a second, it felt like everything around you paused. This has happened before, you thought again, the sensation growing stronger. You could almost hear the echo of his voice, feel the weight of the night, like some strange repetition that you couldn’t escape.

You forced the feeling away, shaking your head slightly. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just tired.” But even as you said it, you felt that faint discomfort creeping in, as if your own words didn’t quite match the way you felt.

Gojo studied you for a moment, and in that silence, something seemed to shift. He took a small step forward, closing the distance between you ever so slightly.

And then, like a memory replaying, he reached up, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His fingers lingered at the back of your neck before his hand moved to cup your cheek, his touch so unexpectedly soft, so... tender. The warmth of his palm against your skin made your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, everything around you felt real, but also like it was slipping into something more unreal.

His eyes locked onto yours then, gaze soft but intense, and you felt the world narrow down to just the two of you in that moment. He didn’t say anything, but the way he was looking at you felt like he was searching for something, like he was trying to figure out the pieces of some puzzle that had been left incomplete for too long.

It wasn’t until you realized you were holding your breath that you snapped back to yourself, blinking quickly as the déjà vu hit you full force. The way his fingers brushed your cheek. The weight of his gaze. The almost impossible tension between you two. It felt like it had happened just the night before, like a scene repeated but with more meaning this time, something in the air different, but still the same.

“Satoru…” you whispered, unsure of what to say, unsure if you were still standing in the present or if you had somehow crossed into something else entirely.

He didn’t respond immediately, his hand still resting on your cheek, his thumb lightly brushing over your skin as if savoring the moment. The touch was gentle, careful, but there was something else there too. Something deeper.

And then, just as you were about to speak again, to ask what was going on, something shifted. The air seemed to hum with an unfamiliar energy, and Gojo’s hand dropped away from your face as he took a step back. His eyes were still locked onto you, but this time, there was a flicker of uncertainty behind the playful glint, as though he, too, was questioning something he couldn’t quite place.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other, the silence thick with something unsaid, something almost tangible. You couldn’t tell if it was you or if it was him who was feeling it—the electric tension that seemed to pulse in the space between you.

Gojo’s voice broke the silence, but it was quieter than usual. “Guess I should get going.” His grin was back, but it was softer now, like he was still holding onto something he couldn’t fully let go of.

You nodded slowly, unable to shake the feeling that this moment, this exchange, wasn’t quite over yet. As he turned to leave, you couldn’t stop yourself from watching him go. The weight of everything you had just felt hung in the air like a question, and you were left standing there, feeling the weight of the déjà vu, the strange familiarity of it all.

But before you could fully process it, the sound of his footsteps faded into the distance, leaving you standing at your door with the echoes of that moment still lingering, unanswered and unresolved.

#gojo satoru #angst #gojo x reader #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo angst #tiiraameesuTOTGA

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multiwreckedmess · 2 years ago

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Two Princes (An Unexpected Part 2)

Pairing: Prince!Hyunjin x fem!servant!Reader x Prince!Felix Genre: Royalty AU Smut WC: 5.5k Summary: The Princes are a dream too good to be true. The previous encounter feels like a mere hallucination. They are determined to prove you wrong. TW/CW: Power imbalance. SoftDom!Hyunjin, SoftDom!Felix, unprotected penetration, non-explicit consent, reader is called “darling” “doll” “toy”, hyunlix is called “sir”, oral sex, throat fucking, gagging mentioned, lots of body fluids, creampie/cum in mouth. Hyunjin has a name kink ig? Felix and Hyunjin aren’t related but are close like brothers so if that gives you the ick heads up. Written mostly in a fugue state with no editing because HAPPY 5-STAR DAY

As usual, this is fiction not a resource manual for how to do literally anything in life. This does not represent ANYONE real or fictional. It’s a fantasy AU FFS if you cannot figure that out I cannot help you. Also not proofread sorry...

Part 1 idk that it matters though. But people see to like it!

Eyes shut to prolong your feeling of floaty weightlessness you roll over, surprised to find more mattress instead of the edge of the bed. Sandwiched between cool cotton sheets your fingers run over the fabric, softer than you remember but not unfamiliar, it’s fabric you’ve felt too many times to count as you practiced folding immaculate corners. There’s even more light here than in your small single room on the ground floor that has to fight for the occasional beam. Gripping the thin fabric of your chamise with the luxurious cotton bedspread you bolt upright, eyelids flying open and heart pounding. The room is full of light linen fabrics in preparation for summer, bouncing the sun off of the walls brilliantly. Your maid’s uniform sticks out, dark stiff cloth neatly hung over the back of a small wooden chair nearby. Window open to the spring breeze, the smell of the castle garden flowers wafts past. It’s not your room, it’s not even near your side of the castle, you’re not even sure you’ve seen this room. It’s too quiet and lovely for you to feel comfortable in, years of conditioning rousing your aching body from the sheets to hurriedly don your uniform. Unfussed about fully lacing your bodice you scurry out of the door, still making the effort to close it quietly, muscle memory hindering your quick escape. Heels barely touching the tiles, your feet propel you forward, down the side stairs to the cool darkness of the ground level, your home level. It’s easier and more familiar for you to navigate this, both the people and the corridors.

A little sore and a little confused you’ve never felt more relieved to crash unseen into the kitchen, yanking a bundle of herbs from the pantry. You knew how to prepare the remedy, the ‘backup plan’ that had passed through the eons of people before you. Choking back the bitter concoction in your room alone you sighed. A small price to pay for a moment in a dream. It barely felt real. None of your interactions with the Princes ever did. Memories tossed in a haze of fairy dust thickly layered over your senses. What seemed so real and physical even a day prior was faded and yellowed and distant already.

Never to happen again for sure. You were a birthday present. An experience for the men. Nothing more. Don’t delude yourself.

From bundled in your covers, much rougher than you’d slept in the night before, to busying yourself with daily chores, you tried your best to forget. Yet you couldn’t help thinking giddily of the possessive way their eyes watched you, their tongues talked about you. Worth of winning, of dominating. A good subject, the best really that they could hope for. Their prized gift.

It was easy to slip back into the natural rhythm of the castle. The council only convened on a monthly basis and without their direct request, few women were asked to care for either prince, mostly needing hands for meals and daily exercises, nothing that particularly required you. They were independent and easy to avoid without drawing much attention. Free agents at least within the walls of the fortress.

It’s humid and sticky. It finally feels like summer is nearing after a cool spring. You don’t expect anyone of importance to see you, hair pulled up and away into ‘work mode’ straggling strands flying every which way. Cheeks hot from exertion you knead your fresh-from-the-icebox pie crust. Flour billowing up around your elbows as you slam the dough into the smooth marble counter. Finally seeing fit to press it flat and roll it out to cut into thin strips and carefully lattice the top of your strawberry rhubarb pie.

“I’ve been simply craving a slice of pie,” a deep rumble purrs in your ear as you weave the delicate strips between each other. “-and I do love strawberries.” You bump up against him as you scramble to curtsy, “Your Royal Highness, Prince Felix. What-why-you- forgive me but this is the servers quarters-” “This is my castle,” he retorts, “nothing is off limits that is within my sight or grasp.” You nod your head in a half bow, “correct sir, of course but- why? Your eyes shouldn’t be soiled by this!” He smirks, eyes flitting to a stack of freshly washed strawberries, waiting to be pitted and sliced. “I wanted a snack,” he explains cooly, arm brushing passed yours to grab the fattest, ripest strawberry on the top of the pile, “and there were none left in the auxiliary kitchen so I thought I’d find my very favorite sweet.” Pouty lips wrapping around the plump fruit he bites down, red juices tinting his mouth a pinkish hue. Eyes closing slowly like a pleased cat, Felix moans. You struggle to keep your composure as a telltale throb courses to your cunt. Slowly his lids flutter open, hand turning the strawberry to you, eyes locked on your face. “It’s perfect. Won’t you try a bite?” “Sir I couldn’t, really, they are meant for-” the firm flesh of the fruit bumps against your lower lip, finishing your sentence for you. “Darling, you’re going to refuse a treat from your future king? That’s not the good girl I know.” A bead of juice slides over your lips, traveling down your chin. Felix watches with pride as you slowly accept his offer, hesitantly opening your mouth, waiting for him to place the berry further on your tongue. When he doesn’t move you gingerly crane your neck forward to take the other half of the berry and bite down. An explosion of acidic sweetness plays over your tongue. It is as he said, a perfect berry, the dictionary definition of a strawberry, tangy and fresh. It’s difficult to control your eyes, momentarily rolling back in your head in delight. “Delicious,” Felix watches you savor the experience, feasting on your reaction, arms caging you in as you chew. “I’m still a little hungry though,” his thumb swipes the trail of red from the corner of your mouth as you swallow, “aren’t you?” The wet pad playing over your lips you open and accept him in, tongue twirling around him sucking the juice off gently. Felix shudders, hips pressing forward and pinning yours to the counter. Your entire nervous system pulses, tingling waves traveling out to your fingertips, an alarm jolting through you. He leans in, eyelids half lowered, like he’s going to kiss you. Instead he stops, firmly pressing his damp thumb to your cheek and brushing flour off you before pulling away completely. You can’t contain the gasp, the obvious release of tension from your body, the way you bit your lip to try to control your expression. “Cute,” he coos, turning heel to the door. “Mother always said not to fill up on sweets though. Too much sugar will spoil the meal.”

Sweaty, dirty, skirt hitched and legs unstockinged, the hot mid morning sun beats down on you as you plod through the large kitchen garden. Far less aesthetic than the gardens outside of the window you’d woke up by after that fateful day but far more useful. Flowers here won’t turn into beautiful bouquets or pressed ornaments to be put on display. They’ll turn into sustenance or medicine or be plucked to prolong the herb’s fragrance. “Were I not who I am, I think I’d rather like the country life.” You hear a voice float your way. “Says the one standing on the outside,” you retort without thinking or looking up. “Country life is easy when you’re not the one elbow deep in-” bent over, yanking a shallot free of the earth you are interrupted by hands at your waist and thighs meeting your backside. Yelping you whip around ready to smack the assailant who dares handle you in such a rough manner but as your head turns and eyes meet you find yourself diverting the energy into a curtsy. “Your Royal Highness, Prince Hyunjin, I’m so sorry I-I would’ve never- if I’d known- why are you-? Why didn’t you-? I’m not decent!” You stammer helplessly, eyes down, quickly working to let your skirts down to preserve what little appearance you hoped to have in front of your lord. “Darling, I’ve seen you far less decent and will see you far less decent again, if you’ll have me.” A lump catches in your throat, brain melting in the heat of the sun or the heat of his gaze. “I thought- I assumed it was just- I was just-” Hyunjin smiles and laughs, brushing back the small hairs stuck to your brow. It’s a kind laugh, a knowing laugh. “Now now, our mothers taught us better than that. Never waste wine, words or women, that was the little idiom.” He looks at you with such sincerity, eyes crinkling into half moons, beads of sweat forming on his own brow as the sun rises higher. As you stand silent in the middle of the garden surrounded by freshly unfurled leaves it feels private and intimate. Slowly his arms mimic the growing beanstalks beside you, wrapping around at your waist casually. “Sir I’m dripping sweat and caked in dirt you really shouldn’t-” “What if I like that about you? The sweat and the dirt. What if I want my woman to be sweaty and dirty?” He cocks his eyebrow with a smirk. It’s hard to contain your eye roll even as your heart flutters, “then that is your choice sir but-” “You can call me my name. We aren’t in earshot of anyone, you can just say it.” “Sir I-” “I want you to say my name.” You sigh, shooting him a pleading glance as you untangle yourself from his arms, “sir please my training dictates-” “I can either say please or I can order you but I want to hear you say my name so you will.” “Prince Hyunjin,” you say hesitantly, hoping that it will be enough to satisfy him. He shakes his head, “just the last part. Just my name.” “Hyunjin,” you breathe out. Though it’s a silly superstition but it feels like a bolt of lightening might strike you at any time, your body tensing in preparation for the hit. Even the slight brush of his fingertips to the side of your arms has your shoulder flinching in response. “It sounds so sweet coming from you, darling, but I rather hear you scream it.” He says with a twinkle in his eye, hand wandering to your ass to cup it. It’s easier this time, “Hyunjin,” falling exasperated from your lips. “Not here.” With a chuckle he steps closer, impossibly closer. The sun is hot and so is he, both sending rays of heat from their bodies to set you aflame. He smells like earth and musk. “It’s my castle. If we want to right here, we can. And if anyone says anything malicious about it I can have them beheaded.” Your eyes bulging, you gasp. Normally you’d assume he was joking but his face is so neutral, so matter-of-fact, that there has to be at least some truth to his words. The proximity to power scares and excites you. “But- my brother might hear about it and he’d be so disappointed to miss out on the fun! I don’t think I could bare his sorrowful stare.” And so Hyunjin leaves you, stunned in the middle of the kitchen garden, only half the leeks for dinner gathered in your basket and the afternoon sun high in the sky.

“You’ve been requested for duty in the throne room again,” the matron eyes you up and down. Logically you know, her judgemental gaze is simply routine, scrutinizing your preparedness to undertake the job. It was a part of your work you were accustomed to. Fastidiously managing every aspect of the staff was her job, any emotion had been removed long before you were born. “Be sure to tidy yourself.” She’s brusque with words and actions alike, hurriedly closing your door behind her. “The princes wouldn’t care if you marched in there only in your chamise, they seemed to make that quite clear,” you snickered to yourself, the matron’s final word to “tidy” still fresh in your ear. You weren’t shocked to be called back, neither was she. You were well trained in her eyes, a star pupil of hers, of course the princes would see the value in your quiet servitude. However you knew that your aptitude at sitting in a corner and refilling goblets wasn’t the reason they were asking for you and that was enough to make your stomach flutter. The tension of anticipation building and surging through you, an energy, infectiously radiated from your aura. How would you manage to keep yourself in check for however long the council would be today

High arched windows, velvet curtains swapped recently for billowing linens, light flooded the great hall. Even your corner, your darling little corner, was brighter than you remembered. The twin glittering thrones posed domineering at the head of the long table, lined with similarly lush chairs although none as impressive. Memories of your previous foray into the belly of the castle appear in flashes as you blink. The cool air kissing your skin before their warm hands had time to. The prickle of tension passing up your spine as they admired you. You shake yourself, you have to stay focused. You can’t get your hopes up. You were a gift, a toy, an experience for the Princes and you should be happy enough with that. No matter how they were raised or their stations in life, they were men after all. The matron had always warned you, in love and politics all men were knaves not knights. Besides what good would swooning do when work had to be done? Play your part, the stalwart help, rather than expose the small stuttering maid you feel like in their presence. It isn’t long before advisors and guests alike trickle into the room, some mingling while standing, others immediately settling into their seats. A good mixture of familiar faces and new. The hum of voices busys your mind as you wait for someone to have want for something. When the princes enter it feels like the oxygen is sucked from the room. The older advisors don’t seem to notice, happily continuing their side conversations. The guests notice. You notice. Instead of heading to their thrones they join the fray around the table, quiet confident smiles and assured strides carry them. Hyunjin seems more at ease, leaning to the side casually as Felix maintains his near military posture. They almost blend into the group, were it not for their beauty. Their hair is even longer since you last saw it, flowing almost past their chin, pieces neatly tucked behind their ears. Were they yours to have and hold you’d braid pieces back from their face, maybe weave flowers or ribbons through. You catch yourself. It wasn’t your place to consider how they managed any part of their appearance. It was your place to monitor the food and drink and get additional assistance as required. A clanging of a fork to a glass jolts you up and onto your feet. Hyunjin’s glass is aloft, casually stretched in front of him, focused on you. “Before we officially begin,” his voice fills the hall, ringing clearly off the walls, “I’d like to welcome our Miss. Would you please come to the head of the table for me darling?” You nearly choke as all eyes turn to you. There are no other people near you, there is no excuse to hide behind. An order is an order and you find your legs moving stiffly below you, stepping almost mechanically as they bring you to the head of the table. Felix’s hand swoops behind you, the warmth of his palm spreading through the layers of bodice, corset, and chamise, easily maneuvering you between the princes with a gentle pressure against your spine. Hyunjins hand lines up just above Felix’s, like a guard on either side. “As she passed her trial run with flying colors, we’ve requested she become a permanent fixture as a part of these meetings,” Hyunjin beams as the party claps. Arms pressed to you, they keep your standing as your legs waiver. “Please say hello. We insist.” You clear your throat, “I’m honored too much by your graces. I look forward to fulfilling my duties to the utmost,” your voice breaks awkwardly, embarrassed heat creeping up the back of your neck. “We look forward to using all of your services.” Felix announces, the polite clapping of the attendees carefully covers his cheeky swat at your behind. Hyunjin gently squeezes your hip with a reassuring nod. It feels like home, even just for a second.

Meetings and side conversations and boring court business seems to last forever. Normally you’d see at least some attrition from the advisors and guests but today each one appears to be firmly cemented to their seat. Your spine grows tired, eyes drooping with fatigue. It would be one thing if they needed you as they did the last meeting, running around with pitchers of various drinks to suit all tastes but today no one seems to want for anything. Somehow the absence of work is more tiring than the work itself. Your time is spent finding small ways to keep yourself alert, tapping your toes, staring at the bright sun, even busying yourself by changing out the many pitchers to their cooler cellar kept counterparts. Even with the intense conversations and work happening it’s impossible to miss the prince’s apologetic glances as you pass the table once more, topping off glasses of both water and wine. “Please,” Hyunjin claps his hands together, “no more. My brother is getting a headache and I fear I should shortly follow if this goes much longer. As I see it, there are no more pressing agenda items for this month, the rest may follow at our next meeting. Thank you all.” Hyunjin looks over his joined hands, locking eyes with you as he sits. He knows the staff’s rules, carefully watching you as you wait on your stool.

Your eyes move between the princes, sensing the game of cat and mouse has already begun without your being aware. The thought enters your mind- at least this time you caught on before you were half dressed. “Come, darling.” Felix’s command rings in the empty hall, shaking you all the way down to your core. “We’d like some of your assistance.” Your pulse quickens, stepping lightly off the stool. Ears buzzing and oversensitive your footsteps sound like the marching of foot soldiers even as you pass lightly on the marble floor. It mirrors your heartbeat, wild in your chest and sinking low into your gut. “Your royal highnesses, what do you desire?” You curtsy low in front of them. Meeting their gaze from beneath your brows at the apex of the bow. They look briefly at each other and smile. “You.” Felix states plainly. The blatentness of it chokes you, air catching between your lungs and throat. “I heard my brother paid you a visit,” Hyunjin begins. “He left hungry.” “That’s funny as I heard a similar rumor about you Hyunjin,” Felix’s eyes stay locked on you. “visiting her in the garden but…you left empty handed.” Your eyes flit downwards, embarrassed. “I’m sorry sirs, I’ll-I- if you are left wanting than the burden is on me.” Wordlessly they rise from their thrones and meet you on the ground before their thrones. “Are we really so burdensome to you?” Despite being only a pair their presence surrounds you, slowly circling on opposite sides like sharks. “No that’s not what I - you- sirs- I-my words- it has been a long day for all of us and really-” you mutter, flustered. Head still tilted down Hyunjin takes the chance to plant a kiss on the back of your neck, lips working their way from your spine to the juncture between of your shoulder and side of your neck. Slowly his arms wrap around your waist, hands caressing up the front of your bodice. There’s no tugging, no hurry to remove the rough fabric under his fingertips. Instead he treats it like the most luxurious silk, breath fanning hotly as he groans. “You’re right, we did you wrong today. Should’ve ended those pesky formalities much sooner. You must be so tired.” Hyunjin murmurs empathetically, the tones buzzing against your skin.Your body shivers, spine straightening with your head collapsing back on his shoulder. The slight suction of his mouth as he nips and sucks along his path has you head back on his shoulder, gasping for air. “We must’ve mistaken a tired mind for disinterest, isn’t that right darling?” Felix presses himself to your front, sandwiching you between their warm frames. “Or did a cat catch your tongue?” He laughs and his licks from your collarbone up the column of your throat. If it weren’t for their pressure you’d have collapsed to the floor between them as your legs turn to jelly.

The princes feel the additional weight immediately. “Move?” “Mhm.” “Garden room.” “Perfect.” Their casual communication to each other is a far crying from the flowering sentences they court you with. Brisk, short, economical with their words. The dialogue of two men who need none to understand each other. Felix breaks from you, his hand still curled over yours, tugging the mass of you and Hyunjin forward through the room to a small door you hadn’t remembered ever spotting. Whisking you down the corridor you barely remember the area before you pop out the other side into the room you’d woken up in after your last foray. The sun casting a reddish orange over, particles of dust float in the air, the bed shoddily made, unlike those you tended to. Less like the image of opulence you’d originally made it to be, more of a sanctuary from daily castle life.

They assume their roles naturally, Felix left to undress you, like last time, as Hyunjin undresses himself. Felix’s hands are sure of their path, unlacing your bodice, unpinning the waist of your skirts, popping open the confines of your corset, each action a smooth steady motion. Goosebumps coat your newly exposed skin as he peels off layers at a time. He peppers the areas with warm kisses as he tosses the fabric to the floor at the side of the bed, dark fabrics sitting like piles of fallen leaves. With the smallest of pushes Felix presses your back to the mattress, pulling your legs up against his torso to shimmy your loosened skirts and bloomers the rest of the way off your body.

Head sliding sideways Hyunjin reappears in your line of sight. Lit by the streams of the setting sun his body line is thin and muscular, elegant as ever. Even as he slowly strokes his already aroused member he looks beautiful. Lips parted slightly and eyes locked with yours, his thighs meet the foot of the bed and hault him just barely within your fingertips reach. Eyes unable to tear themselves from him, you feel your thighs press into Felix’s shoulders as he pulls your pelvis to the edge of the bed. Chest tensing, eyes blown wide, you gasp as his lips tickle your inner thigh. For a moment your eyes cross as Hyunjin laughs, a series of three short airy hums. “Focus on me, darling,” he purrs, “you know how much I love to see your pretty expressions.” With a breathy “yes, sir,” you nod shortly as he approaches you, knees cushioned by the billowing fabrics of the bed. Hungry for him you drop your jaw and let your tongue loll, an open invitation he readily takes. Supporting at the back of your neck, he coos as you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, barely pursing your lips as you kiss your way down. Hyunjin shudders when you finally wrap yourself fully around him and you preen. Seeing the Prince in such a vulnerable state so suddenly grows the fire in your belly, motivates you to go further, screwing your eyes open to watch him as you struggle to take the full length into your throat, tears burning and blurring your vision. “Do you trust your future king?” Hyunjins long fingers trace your throat. Slurping you nod. “If it’s too much tap my thigh twice, if it’s urgent, pinch. I don’t care if it hurts me, you have my permission.” Carefully he lays your head down, placing his thighs on either side of your head. As he takes your mouth you feel him bump against a resistance in your throat. Trying your best to force past it, you find the position puts you at his complete mercy, trapped between him and Felix. You gag softly as he attempts a second push. “Slowly darling, breathe through your nose. Trust me.” Delicate strokes of his fingers down the column of your throat calm you. With a full breath in through your nose he pops past the barrier with a hiss, nearly immediately retreating fully, strands of spit still connecting the two of you. With tender touches he swipes the mess from your jaw, “you did so well darling. See how easy it is when you trust me?” “Yes sir,” you pant. Palm pressed to the side of your neck he fucks your throat, watching the swell of your neck as he fills you, whining with each flex of your muscle eager to gulp him down. “Just like that, keep breathing darling. Breath calms-fuck- just a little more.” Pacing your breathing is a difficult task with Felix taking every opportunity to distract you. His breath is so warm on your inner thighs as he teases you, lips just barely brushing over your slit as he passes from leg to leg as if one would get jealous of the other if lingered on for too long. Finally he sees you’re wound up enough to settle at your mound. Tongue dipping between your folds and tracing you slowly, the warms of his mouth meshes with the heat of your sex. Hands tangling into the sheets as you try to ground yourself as he hones in on your clit. Flicking and swirling his taut muscle around it you hardly notice the almost inaudible whines that escape your open mouth. His hands grasp your thighs to him as your hips kick upwards, still speared between the two of them.

As you feel Hyunjins thighs tense below your palms he withdraws with a groan. “He’s doing a good job right? Your Prince is treating you well?” Hyunjin goads. “Tell him, tell him how good he is.” “Sir, so good,” you croak, barely able to crane over your body to look down at the source of pleasure. “Which sir?” Hyunjin smirks, “we’re both your sir. So tell me who.” “Prince Felix, sir,” you stutter and catch on his name. Your fingers desperately want to scramble and tug on the mop of blonde hair between your legs. Groaning, you gather the sheets into your fists to satiate your need. “It feels so good. God you feel so good.” Endorphins flood your body, bursting from your center out to your fingertips like white hot fire. Your whines reach a fever pitch, warbling as your body shakes. “Sir, Felix, sir,” panic rises in your throat as another wave quickly hits. Your abs tense and brace down, the walls of your sex clenching and pulsing around nothing. His hand joins his mouth, fingers short and small but strong to make up for it, quickly fucking into you as tears prick the corners of your eyes. The world spins around you, spiraling into intense pleasure. A wash of relief passes over you, in you, through you, sensitizing you. You gulp air down, lungs hiccupping it back in small bursts as you tremble and twist and cry, senses lost to the world. “Enough, we don’t want to break her,” Hyunjin pulls Felix back from you by his mane of hair, his mouth and jaw glisten with a mess of spit and your juices. Felix pants and snarls like a man possessed, “wanted to see how many she could take.” Shaking himself of Hyunjin, he runs his hands along your legs, still vibrating with exhaustion. “Wanted to spoil our present. Otherwise how will she know how sweet she tastes?” “Go show her then,” Hyunjin clambers between your thighs, practically forcing Felix from his post. Cock in hand he teases your hole, gathering the mess to lubricate himself. He fills you with one steady thrust, stretching out to accommodate him with a groan. You moan as his hips push harder into the backs of your thighs, the head of his cock stirring your guts. Looking up at Felix dreamily he seems like the son of Apollo rather than a son of a man, shining back at you as fiercely as the sun. “You missed this didn’t you doll?” He leans down lips to yours, catching your reply before you manage to voice it, stealing a messy kiss as you moan. You taste more him than yourself, the tanin of the red wine still clinging to his tongue, as juicy and ripe as the heat of the august sun had baked the grapes that made it. “Yes sir,” you manage to groan, open mouth pressed to his shoulder as Hyunjin leans his whole body weight forward into your thighs. “Good. Maybe next time you won’t steal yourself so selfishly from us.” Hyunjin hisses as his hips pull back, pulling a groan from you as well. Your hands scramble indecisively, the need to grab him and fill yourself once again fighting your training to treat each man with white gloves. You can hear Felix chuckle at your side, pitch starting low and climbing slightly. He’s finally fully undressed himself, each groove of his musculature seemingly cut from glass, his undertones contrasting with Hyunjin’s, both luminescent in the low light. Laid bare like this their different lineages could not be more clear despite their joint upbringing. “You want to be ours, right?” Felix sweeps some of the collected strands of hair from your brow. “We won’t play with a toy that doesn’t want to be played with.” “Sir- I want- I want-” your reply emerges in quick gasps as Hyunjin’s hips roll into you over and over, driving you back into the center of the mattress. “You want? Hyune- are you not fucking her hard enough? She wants.” Felix smirks at the elder. Hyunjin grunts and withdraws from you, clearly annoyed by Felix’s goading. Grabbing your hips he shoves you onto your side and then stomach, his grip leaving indents in your soft flesh. You scramble to accommodate his wordless directions, pushing your knees below you as he pulls your ass up, presenting to him lewdly. Hasty and animalistic he pushes back into you easily, new angle and new sense of fullness. Wobbling with each thrust you try to prop your chest up and away from the bed, arms knocking out from under you, defeated. Back arched fully up you gasp into the mattress, wailing and moaning muffled in the down, drool soaking into the sheets. “Who is fucking you dumb?” “Sir, Prince Hyunjin sir.” You yelp against the damp fabric. “What is my name?” A wail escapes your mouth instead of a name. Hyunjin leans over, hips still pistoning against you. With a shaky growl he commands you,“say my name.” It’s like a dam in you breaks fully, flooding the air with words and his member with your arousal. “Hyunjin! Hyunjin,” you scream without care for formalities, over and over until his name becomes a sound rather than a proper noun. “Hold her up for me.” You vaguely hear Felix ask Hyunjin before a tug at your arms pulls you up. Tension keeping you jutting outward with your back bowed, your shoulder joints burn as he silences you with his cock, lodged between your lips. No coaxing, no slow pace, just a man chasing a means to an end. He’s thicker than you remember, mouth straining to accommodate him comfortably as the spongy head of his cock hits your barrier, briefly popping past it as Hyunjin bounces you forward. Completely at their mercy, you feel like you’re floating between them, pinging back at forth, never left wanting for long. Your tongue can feel the seizing of Felix’s impending climax as he stuffs himself down your throat, a whimper catching in his throat as he unloads before stumbling backwards as spit and cum burble and overflow from your lips. Hyunjin follows closely, collapsing forward and warmth rushes to fill your core. This must be the ecstasy of death, you think, every fiber of your being reverberating uncontrollably beneath your lover as he sucks small kisses possessively into the nape of your neck. You aren’t sure if the heartbeat you feel thudding is yours or his. “She’ll stay here.” “With us?” “With us.”

Part three eventually. I have an outline its just everything in between. Probably not for a while though ya’ll i’m sorry. I’m going to have a few Ateez centric pieces out because June is theeeee month for comebacks.

In the meantime my sorta updated masterlist is here

#hyunjin smut #felix smut #hwang hyunjin smut #lee felix smut #skz hyunjin smut #skz felix smut #stray kids hyunjin smut #stray kids felix smut #skz smut #stray kids smut

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