#hey I already heard about it before!
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batri-jopa · 2 days ago
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Watch the whole short movie made with this technique only! These tiny little people are the cutest thing everrr!😍
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The short answer is... a tilt-shift lens.
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The slightly more complicated answer is... Mister Rogers.
Depth of field is the area in front and behind your chosen focus point that remains in focus and then slowly gets blurry as you get farther away.
Shallow depth of field only has a narrow slice of the image in focus and gets blurry super quick. This is caused by a large lens aperture and being close to the subject.
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Deep depth of field can extend through the entire picture if your aperture is small and you are super far away.
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Usually the depth of field lines up with the image sensor of your camera. So if it is tilted forward, the plane of focus matches.
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The stuff outside the green area would be blurry. The edges of the green would be slightly blurry. And the dashed green line would be the sharpest area of the photo.
But the tilt-shift lens allows you to create chaos with your plane of focus. In most cases, you would use this to flatten the depth of field so you can get a 2D plane entirely in focus.
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If you were to use a normal lens, the bottom left and top right would be blurry.
But with a tilt-shift lens you can do this.
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The green area is taking a little nap on the floor.
However, there is an unintended side effect created by this lens. (The "Scheimpflug intersection" if you want to go down the rabbit hole.) You can choose absolutely wacky planes of focus that create a very narrow depth of field over a geographically large area.
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Believe it or not, this is when psychology comes into play.
And possibly Mister Rogers.
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Our only reference for such a large area having a shallow depth of field is our memories of miniatures on TV. So Mister Rogers and Thomas the Tank Engine trained our brains to see this effect as... small.
Depth of field shrinks the closer you are to something. And when filming miniatures, you are placing the lens close to the scene. But the scene represents something big in our minds. We buy the effect, but not 100%. That blurriness wouldn't be there at a regular scale. So our subconscious remembers we are watching small things pretending to be big. It just files that away in the back of our mind.
And then when we see something like this...
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Our brain is all, "Look at all that tiny shit!"
Without Mister Rogers, our brains may have never made these connections and tilt-shift photography may just make us wonder why everything is all blurry. That connection to past experience is vital for this effect to be convincing.
Brains are neat.
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diluc33rpm · 11 months ago
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the romance/relationship system in bg3 is genuinely some of the worst designed shit i've ever seen in any game with that feature but at least the memes we get out of it are funny. once saw someone comment something along the lines of 'patch note: waving at gale will no longer cause him to buy a house for the two of you to retire in' and i've never recovered since
#i love gale he doesn't deserve (most of) the incel slander#but it's painfully such a good riff because it really really does feel like that#the player choices being a b/w alternation between 'hey there' and 'YOU SHOULD KILL YOURSELF... NOW!' normally is already comical as is#the fact that it carries over into interactions with the party members who you're presumably trying to be close with is... something else#and what makes it worse is it ISN'T jokey hyperbole. anyone remember 'send a mental image of you kissing him or HIS HEAD ON A PIKE.' c'mon#trying to chat and vibe at the refugee camp celebration and the sum of conversation i get is one (1) line asking how they're doing#because going any further than that elicits marking you down for the path of boning take it or leave it#it's genuinely so hard to get to feel like you can deepen a relationship with the characters in ways that aren't trying to pursue them#yes! halsin! i really want to know you better! i just don't want the ass!! why is trying to hit the only option other than up and leaving!!#99% of the time i expect nothing from media creators in terms of writing interactive relationships#larian are beyond parody in that they've somehow managed to do worse than the already suboptimal majority#we're just going to impose the roadblock of do you want to fuck y/n right off the bat. good luck finding a way to talk around that if not#the obscuration surrounding where exactly the checks are really does not help at all either#when the shit's got even the allos complaining about it you know it's BAD#shame because i was excited for character scenes given that's a lot of what's hyped up about the game#but no it's all just the romances. 'what if i'd like to breathe in someone's general direction-' well now have you heard of our romances?#fish fear them party members fear them and tav is going to have to walk alone on this sinful earth#conservative bigoted relative at the family reunion withers era was a fucking time before they tweaked that line speaking of#just so crazy they can get away with this shit#baldur's gate 3#bg3 liveblog
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smile-files · 5 months ago
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friends, followers, and fellow freaks... should i share my soul-bearing album with my high school compsci teacher, whom i have a frankly ludicrous parent-child parasocial relationship with? or should i pretend to be sane? (genuine question, but i admit it's also very funny)
here is it again by the way :) for some reason i couldn't figure out how to link directly to the playlist before... but now i can! yay
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atlas-dr0wned · 5 months ago
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as much as i dislike being trans sometimes, it makes me smile when i think about how happy me when i was 9, who couldn’t figure out why he didn’t fit in with all the other girls, felt uncomfortable with his name but didn’t like other girl names and loved the beatles more than life itself, would be if he knew we’d named ourselves after one of our favourite songs by the band that’s our longest lasting special interest
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vole-mon-amour · 1 month ago
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I reached 30 tags so screw it:
if they made it like Silco and Vander had a fallout way before the Mom's death, it could've kinda worked 'cause Vi could've recognized Vander but not Silco, so Jinx still jumps into a stranger's embrace and Silco ends up raising her.
but then again, Vander tried to murder Silco WAY before that scene in the bar in s2. Vander looks way older, even though Silco looks completely different to what we see in flashback in s1.
it's like they didn't put any effort at ALL. it doesn't match. it doesn't make sense. was s1 good on a accident? should have they tried to at least get rid of inconsistencies? or don't go with the theory in s2? because so far it truly looks like "this is the story we wanted to tell" vs "this is the story we actually told" and now it's two completely different stories.
ugh.
I think ignoring s2 and treating s1 as a standalone might be the best choice here, cause s2 is definitely not going to work with the story they told in s1. what a shame.
The Vander/Silco Shitshow - generic, juvenile, and gimmicky slop
So, I think that Vander/Silco flashback was terrible. Tropey, careless, juvenile, clichéd bullshit that stripped away everything that made their season 1 story nuanced and poignant, while simultaneously ripping open a fat plot hole because the team got careless and did not catch the discrepancy between the story they'd written in their heads and the visuals that ended up on screen in season 1. This is just going to be a long rant post detailing the reasons I absolutely despised this flashback. Obligatory disclaimer that this is just my (strongly held) opinion.
1) The timeline plot hole
No, I'm not misusing the term. So a plot hole is an inconsistency in a fictional narrative that cannot be explained away by any plausible in-universe justifications. There are many moments of weak writing in Arcane that may be contrived, rushed, weird, convenient, etc. but aren't plot holes.
This Vander/Silco situation however. Oh boy. If you all remember, Season 1 opened with the bridge massacre, also known as the Day of Ash. Vander is shown cracking enforcers' skulls. He looks like this.
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The sisters, seemingly recognizing him, ask him where their parents are. He gestures to their corpses, the sisters cry, Vander has his "violence is not the answer" epiphany, drops the gauntlets very dramatically to underscore this massive turning point of character development for him, then picks the girls up and leaves the bridge.
In episode 3, we are shown a flashback. Vander is trying to kill Silco in the river. He looks like this.
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Let's compare this to how he looked like on the Day of Ash.
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Yeah. According to the visuals shown in Season 1, the falling out of Vander and Silco seems to have occured in the past before the Day of Ash, evidenced by how much younger Vander looks. Unless Silco is a time traveller who jumped forward to the future to throw a molotov at the riot because he just loves violent extremism that much, or Vander took the time to shave his beard and apply heavy duty anti-aging lotion on his face before hunting Silco down, there are no plausible in-universe explanations for this inconsistency. Not to mention, if Silco and Vander were really as close as brothers and the sisters knew Vander, then it's impossible they wouldn't have known who Silco was.
Yet, in Season 1, that's exactly what we see - not a single sliver of recognition between Silco and the girls, nothing to imply they knew of his existence before episode 3. Not a single conversation between Jinx and Silco implied that he knew, let alone was close to, her mother. Nothing from Vi throughout the entire first season indicated that she knew of his past friendships with her mother and Vander. They acted like total strangers to each other.
Many fans already caught this inconsistency during the three-year gap after writers' comments online implied Silco was involved in the Day of Ash. We had hoped the writers would catch on to this discrepancy too and either iron out the timeline if they want to do serious flashbacks, or just avoid calling attention to it completely by not doing flashbacks of their falling out. Alas.
2) Leonardo Dicaprio pointing meme
Death to the everybody-knows-everyone trope and lines that only exist to invoke the "Leonardo Dicaprio pointing" meme. Throw them into a fucking fire. Boring, mind-numbing, clichéd, overdone garbage. Not every character needs to have some kind of half-baked relation with each other. Not every major incident needs to be tied back to the main characters. Not every single detail needs to be overexplained and justified and again, somehow tied to a main character. They are unnecessary, and make the world feel so much more claustrophobic and smaller than it should be.
"The enforcers actually commited the Day of Ash massacre because SILCO threw a molotov. Vander actually tried to kill Silco because of VI AND JINX'S mother. She knew both Silco and Vander personally and TOLD THEM to help her raise her kids. VANDER named Vi."
Bullshit like this really fucks with immersion, because it becomes clear very quickly that the world is only occupied by a small handful of real characters while the thousands of other people in it are nothing more than inconsequential set dressing and wallpaper. The story and world no longer feel real, vast, and immersive. And these forced "connections" between main characters are so obviously manufactured to generate "OUGHHH" and Dicaprio pointing reactions. Idk about anyone else, but it takes me completely out of the story when I can obviously tell the writing is trying too hard to blow my mind.
The girls' mom waltzing up to Vander and Silco and just. Fucking telling them to help her with her kids lmfaoooooooo. (OUGHH and they both really ended up raising her kids WOAGH😱🤯). Jinx's mom saying choosing a name is stressful because her child will feel stuck with it (GASP and Powder ended up changing her name WOOOOWW😱). Vander coming up with Vi's fucking name. (OUGHHHH HE REALLY WAS MEANT TO BE FATHER ALL ALONG WOADGHHGHDHDH🤯🤯🤯).
Fucking kill me. Arcane Season 1 was surprisingly good precisely because they DIDN'T, for the most part, resort to tropey bullshit like this. It had, for the most part, originality. Uniqueness. In fact all the strongest aspects of Season 1, aspects I loved, were deliberate subversions of overdone clichés. For Season 2 to resort to this kind of writing reminiscent of Disney slop is insanely disappointing.
I'm waiting for a character to unironically say, "What are we, some kind of League of Legends?" in Act 3 now.
3) "Ohhhhh so THAT'S why he did that!!!!!!!!!"
Also death to overexplanations and giving justifications for things that never needed justifications. You know what I was never confused by while watching Season 1 of Arcane? Why Vander adopted the girls. Why Silco adopted Jinx. Why both came to care for their girls so much, they were willing to sacrifice so much for them. I thought the reasons for those things were very clear and poignant in the first season. I never needed an extra on-the-nose justification for the adoptions in the form of, "they wuved yo mama". It's not only redundant, it's also one of the most tired ass tropes in fiction. To me, Vander taking in the girls and Silco taking in Jinx are so much more powerful if they really were just random guys with no real connection to the girls' parents.
But I've already seen some positive reactions to this flashback with "Ohhhhh so THAT's why Silco/Vander cared for the girls so much, now I understand😯🤯😓" mf what exactly did you not understand before??
4) Character motivations
The motivations of both Vander and Silco are made downright bizarre by this flashback. So Silco was hellbent on murdering Vi last season, despite being close friends with her mom whose death he may feel guilty for? Literally despised her and wanted to kill her the entire time with no hesitation lol. So Vander had that aforementioned dramatic moment of character development, dropped the gauntlets, realized violence wasn't the answer, and carried the kids to safety... then doubled back to violently hunt down and murder Silco? But not before shaving his beard and applying youthful lotion of course. Can't kill your bro while looking crusty. Then he failed to kill Silco so he just... went back to the kids and pretended like nothing happened? Lol.
Silco being close to, let alone loving, the girls' parents makes no fucking sense for his character. Vander knowing them at least makes sense, but casual friends would have sufficed. "I was lowkey crushing (?????) on your mom and also named you" just cheapened the entire Vander/Vi and Silco/Jinx surrogate father dynamic. Vander's motivation for killing Silco being yet another fridged woman is also weak as fuck. First Viktor with Sky, and now Vander/Silco. They really should have left this one up to our imaginations if this was the boring tripe they came up with.
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#say it.#long post#arcane#they are random guys as far as I'm concerned#because the timeline makes NO sense#and I kinda wanna go#'I wonder what's the real reason Vander tried to kill Silco'#because whatever was presented in s2 is not it#also like#there were implication of Silco wanting to use Jinx against Vi#but instead grew to care for her#like when he approaches her in s1 with the knife hidden behind his back I thought he might as well kill Jinx cause she's useless to him#but then he heard what Jinx did and that Vi left her and went like 👀👀 'I can use that'#but in reality he already saw himself in her and his 'we will show them all' already turned on#but if he was in love with their mom it all goes out of the window#Anyway yeah#I think I'm going to ignore s2 in terms of lore and canon cause it's simply ridiculous and not in a fun way#p.s.#op the way you use “/” kind of indicates that you tag them as ships#it would make more sense to use “&” between the names#hope that's OK to point out#it just kind of confused me since it was always a fandom rule of sorts (and in fanfiction too)#no but also. the idea of Vander trying to murder Silco after Silco accidently killed the girls' mom#and then write a letter where he goes 'hey I'm sorry. I thought what was done to you was right'#like???#make it make sense!#if Silco and Vander knew the mom before#at least say that Silco and Vander had a fallout way before the day of ash happened#so Vi recognizing Vander and asking about parents made sense#and for silco not to know the girls didn't so they're still strangers
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icantalk710 · 3 months ago
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📱😪
#well glad i finally stopped overthinking for three days and sent the damn text#i get if things are super hectic with work and everything immediate i do--but if we've still been feeling each other we'd still find a way#to connect?#i thought dinner with him went well a few weeks back--and would've gone better at mine if not for shitty super (big stressor) halfassing a#roof leak repair job in his closet making him have to go handle that after it rained a little during dinner#but we kissed goodbye saying we'd hang labor day and i told him to text me once home or about how the leak goes and he never did#but okay things were stressy and he forgot no worries#labor day came and i followed up day of not having heard from him and did an afternoon in the park after not hearing back#he apologized the next day saying he was going through a lot and i understood and said i'd still like to help take his mind off things--nada#he works weekends so i sent him a doggo video on IG to help some and checked in the next Monday asking if we did still want to hang again#and that i'd missed him--he apologized last Tuesday saying work was chaos and that he was two-weeksing his part time job#i understood and asked what he planned on doing from there to have us talking--nothing#but he did see the doggo video finally and said 'thanks for the doggo c:'#i did also have a free evening on thurs from a day off with mom so i low-presh said 'hey if you wanna hang?' and nothing#last thing was i asked on Sunday how his week was going and nothing#what confused me is that through all this he would still pop into my IG stories and like things which makes me think 'interest'#but i'd low-pressure like or comment a thing on his and i wouldnt get anything#and also still kinda seeing him on the site we met on with a guy leaving him a bj review a few weeks ago... which#it's fine it's been two dates so sure--but i'm also v much wanting to do things with him too and i'm kinda right there??#so all this to say that i felt like i had to just see if we are doing okay given it's been hard to tell#...but i did so much overthinking on how to phrase it the past 2-3 days before finally sending it#saying that if we are i'd like us to connect a bit more and that maybe Snapchat could help with that#[we probably should've traded SCs already 🥲]#anyway we'll see how that goes but idk as much as i've liked our chemistry i kinda feel like--to quote The Drums' 626 Bedford Ave--#i dont get near what i've been givin'#(space considerations for the hecticness aside ofc#so if we can communicate a bit better that'd be nice but could also gear toward an end so we'll see with the ball in his court#anyway thanks for reading that pre-bed vent#you're now imagining a corgi about to go paddling on a boat as a treat :)#🥱
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eupheme · 5 months ago
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— come on and show me
[part ii | part iii | masterlist]
logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson
rated e - 5.5k
tags: Logan POV, MMF threesome, jealous!logan, reader is wade's girl, mutual pining/crushes all around, voyeurism, dirty talk, open relationship, oral sex, fingering, Logan doms both of them, 69ing, fucklicking, ball worship, come eating, PiV
a/n: I want them to kiss and I also want them to kiss reader to here this is! 💕
Right now, all he can hear is Wade running his goddamn mouth. Drowning out the sounds you make - so fuckin’ pretty, and the prick is too busy listening to himself to appreciate it.
There’s one thing that Logan knows for sure - and it’s that Wade’s not doing it right. Not like he would.
(or - Logan tries to shut Wade up, and it doesn’t quite go as expected)
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Logan can hear Wade from here.
Running that goddamn mouth already, and the sun’s only barely up.
Can hear you, too. The little whimpers that you try bite back. He can imagine the way your teeth sink into your lip - the thought has him shifting in his chair, breakfast forgotten.
So fuckin’ pretty, and the prick is too busy listening to himself to appreciate it.
Knows he could make you even louder, too. It’s almost like he’s at the mansion again, looking at another toy he can’t touch.
What a waste.
The sounds crescendo, the chanting of a name layered with that endless babble that makes his teeth grind, before the sound breaks.
Trying not to look interested when the door opens a few minutes later. Snatching up the newspaper that’s been sitting on the cluttered tabletop for a month now, flicking it open.
Ignoring how Wade strolls out, adjusting the waistband on a pair of grey sweats that are hanging way too low on his hips for comfort.
Rummaging around for a bottle of water, the glow of the fridge illuminating the curve of his ass. The cut of the pants look familiar, Logan's eyes narrowing as he wonders if those are his missing pair-
The edge of the paper flicking up again into place again, just as Wade stretches - bending further, before the bottle is snatched from the back.
Logan huffs.
“Hey roomie,” Wade hums, flicking the cap at him. It sails through the air, disappearing into his forgotten cup of coffee with a little 'plunk', “Don’t let me interrupt that killer Ed Tom Bell impression you’ve got going on, just hydrating for round two.”
“Ooh,” A cock of his hip, as he turns - head tilting as he thinks, “Does that make me Josh Brolin? God, I love him.”
“That’s all?” Logan’s eyebrows lift as he sneers - ignoring another reference he doesn’t understand, “Been going at it for a while.”
As soon as he says it, he regrets it. Opening himself up for an attack. He can already hear the sing-song response at the admittance that he’s been listening.
Screwing the Pavlovian pooch, with the way that he's more than aware that his dick’s half-hard. The result of taking care of himself one too many times - an attempt at getting himself back to sleep, pretending that he isn’t jerking himself off to the beat of the frame that bangs against the walls.
Luckily, Wade zeros in on the exact wrong part. Sputtering, as water drips down his chin, “That’s all? What do you mean, that’s all?”
“You heard me,” The paper crinkles in his fist, “In fact, I’m surprised you even got round one off. Much less that she’s sticking around for another.”
“You wound me, and yet, flatter.” Wade’s hand flattens over his heart, “I never knew you thought about me like that.”
“I haven’t been thinking about you, you ass,” Logan snarls, teeth bared, “I just know that if you’re talking, then you’re not doing it right.”
Wade grins at that, teeth scraping over his lower lip as they stretch wide.
Eyes flicking over his form, assessing in a way that has Logan bristling - voice going syrupy-smooth, “Is that right? You think you can do better, mutton chops?”
The breath he inhales is ragged. That feeling back again - an urge to curl his hand around Wade’s throat, and squeeze.
“Yeah,” Logan growls out, “Yeah, I fucking do.”
The table shakes as Wade plops himself down on the edge, a leg crossing over the other. Interest gleaming in his eyes as his head tilts towards the bedroom door.
“Alright. Bring on the magic tricks, Angier.” His hands splay wide, wiggling, “Gonna show me how to make your fingers disappear?”
Logan glares, his eyes flicking down to where the fleece pulls across his hips.
“Right.” He spits, “Like you’ve got another in you?”
“Hey now, pookums. Marvel Jesus, remember?” Wade’s hand makes a sweeping gesture in front of his crotch, “Just give me three minutes and I’ll have risen.”
“That’s disgusting.” Logan barks, “And get off the table.”
If anything, it makes Wade sit harder. His legs pivoting until he can spread his thighs on either side of the paper, ankles dangling off the edge.
“Disgusting?” His tone pitches up, “Says the man that’s rocking a stiffy. Gonna jerk it at the breakfast table when I leave? You know Blind Al eats there.”
The paper twitches reflexivity in his hands, and Wade’s smile pulls wider as Logan shoots him a death glare, lips curling over teeth.
“Why the fuck would I do something like that?”
Wade hums, “Call it an educated wish.”
“Call it an educated get-the-fuck-out-of-here.” Logan scoffs. His eyes flicking towards the bedroom, the door still shut, “You’re talking like she wants this.”
Wade’s finger presses at the edge of the newspaper he’s hiding behind, and Logan bats his hand away.
He’s still not gotten used to all the skin, he doesn’t know where to look. The slightest shift back in his chair, but he’s already pressed up against the wall.
“Oh please, as if we don’t take turns roleplaying as you,” Wade sighs longingly, “This would be a wet dream come true.”
His eyes narrow then, as his tongue runs across his lip. Voice dropping again, coaxing.
“Look,” Wade says it like he’s leveling with him - talking man-to-man,“If you wanted to fuck her, peanut, all you had to do was ask.”
And for a moment, Logan truly considers it. Not just the fantasy that’s been playing through his head for weeks.
Weirder shit has happened, he supposed.
He’s already been claw-deep into Wade’s guts. A brawl in that shitty van that lasted until morning. Bound tip-to-tip in the void for god knows how long.
Getting walked in on in the bathroom at least twice in the last month. A gleeful “mind if I cut in?”, before Logan’s fist is sending him into the vanity.
The last time it took a full week to get the sink fixed.
Not to mention that Wade apparently seems so certain that his clothes were now their clothes.
So fucking keen on sharing.
So it wasn’t a stretch to think he might want to share you, too.
There’s something caught between his teeth, heavy on his tongue. About to loosen, when the door is opening.
Swallowing them down as you step through, thighs bare under a too-big t-shirt. Arms wrapping around Wade’s shoulders as your lips press against his cheek.
“Thought you were coming back, Red.” You coo. Drawn out by the sound of bickering as you had basked in your afterglow.
“Morning, Logan.” A smile sent his way after, turning sheepish, “You’re up early. Hope we didn’t wake you.”
He grunts in reply. Pretending there wasn’t a little jolt in his stomach at the sound of his name. That he hadn’t been thinking about spreading you across this table, lifting the hem of your shirt up-
If he’d been in your bed, no one would have had to wonder.
The whole damn floor would’ve been woken up.
“He thinks I fuck bad, so I’m gonna prove he’s wrong,” Wade adds in, cheerfully, “That okay with you, gorgeous?”
Logan glares over the top of his paper. A rough clearing in his throat as your eyebrows lift, glancing his way.
He hadn’t really meant to bring you into this, or at least, that’s what he’s telling himself.
That eye contact dropping, as you lean into Wade, your chin propped on his shoulder, “Is that right? How are you going to do that?”
Logan’s answer comes out flat, as he examines an ad in the bottom corner of the page,“I’m not doing anything.”
Wade sighs, his head knocking back against your shoulder.
“Come on, Wolvie. I would love for you to prove me wrong,” He needles, digging deep, “Put your money where my cock should be.”
Logan still doesn’t look up, “Not interested, I’m busy.”
The sigh that pulls from his lungs is long, a near-whine.
“What, with reading?” He exclaims, “Jesus you really are old. The retirement home called, they’re missing a resident.”
Logan’s eyes snap up now, narrowing, “Fuck. Off.”
With a sigh, Wade fucks off. Legs curling, until he’s rolling off the table. Your hand fitting in his, a water bottle tucked under your arm as you head back towards the room.
“The offer still stands!” He calls.
A beat, before you turn.
“Logan?” You call, as he’s helpless - his eyes pulling away. Drawn to you.
A little wink sent his way. Your finger gesturing towards his chest, as you smile.
“Your paper’s upside down.”
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Logan’s still not quite sure how he got here. His feet moving on his own, fingers catching the bedroom door just as it starts to close.
Almost backing out when he sees the look of Wade’s face, pleased as fucking punch.
Standing by the edge of the bed now, as you kneel on it in front of him. Fingers slipping across his chest - curious, with the way your eyes flicker over his face. Eager, though you hide it well.
“So what exactly did you tell Wade to get him so worked up?” Your fingers twine around his neck, as his find your hips.
He hums at that - flicking towards his roommate before they find yours again.
“All I said was that if I can hear his mouth running from out there,” Logan’s fingers dent into soft skin, tugging you closer, “He can’t be doing a good job.”
There’s a shift off to the side. Wade sinking down into the beanbag chair he pulled up,“Can you believe that? As if I don’t have a good grade in my oral and my dickabilties.”
“A gold star, babe.” You shoot him a tender smile, before they focus on Logan again. Shoulder lifting, as your grin grows, “I mean, Merc with a Mouth, right? Seems like part of the package.”
He huffs, eyes dropping to your lips.
“You think it’s good,” Logan’s tone is almost pitying, “But it’s only because you haven’t had better.”
That pulls a gasp from your throat, eyebrows lifting.
“Yeah, I think you’re trying to emasculate me, but honestly…” Wade’s hand splays wide over his crotch, “Sploosh.”
“Sploosh.” You echo softly, and he can feel you shift closer. Can smell the fresh curl of arousal that heats your skin, as his hands ghost higher. A small smile, as your head tilts, “So you just all talk then, or…”
“No.” Logan scoffs, “No, I’m not.”
He closes the gap, more certain now. Mouth pressing against yours, as you squeak - tense in his arms, until you go liquid.
Soft tits pressed to his chest as his tongue sweeps against your lips. Swallowing a pretty moan as they part for him, his own groan rumbling in his chest as his hands wander.
Slipping down, ghosting against skin. Feeling the goosebumps that rise, as he draws circles against your hip. His name whimpered, and it shoots straight to his cock.
Not even a heartbeat, before the chatter begins.
“Bet your pussy’s wet already, isn’t it baby?” He coos, “A kiss like that, it’s even got me a little worked up. And I’m just producing this show.”
Logan’s eyes crack open as he glares, “You’re not producing shit, asshole.”
“Ooh, I bet you SO wish you worded that in a different way-”
You huff against his mouth, your touch guiding him back. The thought lingers, curiosity burning. Letting his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, knuckles brushing your thigh.
Tracing around to the curve of your ass, his wide palm splaying out, then squeezing against bare flesh.
“Is he right?” He rasps, his lips brushing against yours. Half-hating that he’s letting Wade get in his head, but the thought-
You gasp again, and his teeth flash with his smirk, “Are you wet for me already, sweetheart?”
“She’s been since she first saw you. Goddamn Niagara Falls,” Wade’s voice has softened - teasing now, “Isn’t that right, gorgeous?”
An amused shake of your head, as something silent passes between them. Logan doesn’t pretend to know how your relationship works - other than the fact that Wade was willing to do anything to save this world for you.
And that there’s something inside him that tightens - a flicker in his belly - whenever he looks at you. Whenever Wade flirts with him. That sharp annoyance from their meeting slowly bleeding out with each day goes by.
Something else taking root, the more time he spends with both of you. He’s not good with his emotions. Doesn’t want to name that ache when he saw you together.
A silent wish, with his shifting daydreams. With the jerk of his fist in the morning. Imaging you in his bed, at first. And then, more - two sets of hands. Two mouths at his cock, and then he’s suddenly coming harder than he has before.
He’s become greedy, the more you both give him.
“Show me.” It’s a command, soft and low.
Logan can feel your thighs press together, that little squirm. Tucking this new discovery away as you lean back, eyes dark with desire.
The briefest hesitance, before your fingers loosen from him. Slipping down, under the hem of your shirt. The nails on your other hand bite into his shoulder as you sigh - two fingers gliding through the wet folds of your pussy.
Pulling them back for him to see. Glistening, your arousal stringing between them. His hand is already curling around your wrist. No resistance as he tugs - guiding your fingers past his lips as they part.
Sucking the sweet taste of you as he groans, deep in his chest. Eyes fixed on yours so he can see the way yours widen, feeling how your fingers flex against the swipe of his tongue.
“Logan.” You sigh his name, and it only makes his moan - eyes shutting as you press down against his tongue. The need slipping into your voice, pleading.
“I wanna feel your mouth. Show me, too,” You sigh, as you slip from him, “Show me what you meant.”
Christ, he’s been aching for this. Eager to drown himself in your pussy, if you’d let him.
There’s a sharp clap that forces his eyes open. Wade’s enthusiasm as he drags the bag closer, chin cradled in his hands.
“Yeah, Logan. You gonna show us your dickabilites, or what?”
He shoots him a withering look. Softening before he turns to you, his chin tipping up.
“Lay back on the bed for me, sweetheart.”
You listen so sweetly, and it makes his cock throb. A quick dart of your eyes over to your boyfriend, who only nods.
“Take that off, baby,” Wade coos, “Show him how pretty you are.”
He’s not sure when he started letting Wade make orders, but for once he’s not wanting to argue about his suggestions.
Because fuck, you are pretty. No arguing with that.
Letting his eyes sweep over every inch that is revealed, as you lift the hem of your shirt. The curve of your hips, your soft tits that he can’t wait to get his mouth on.
Baring yourself, as you lean back against the pillows. His eyes are fixed on your cunt, already fitting himself between your thighs. Fingers reaching - ready to part you open. Taste you himself, bury his tongue inside you.
Your hand reaches out, pushing against his shoulder.
“Wait, you too.” You pout, “Let’s play fair, okay?”
He huffs, lips quirking. Hands catching the hem as he tugs his own shirt off, Wade diving for it as he tossed it towards the floor.
Twin gasps rise, and if he was a much younger man, he may have blushed.
“Fuck.” Wade groans, a hand dropping down his crotch and squeezing.
You’re already leaning forward, a hand flattening against his skin. A soft "wow" slipping from your lips - feeling the way his muscles jump as you slide over his pecs, the thick hair covering them.
A hand hooking around his shoulder - a smirk hidden as you tug him down on top of you.
Soft, beneath him. Those needy whines he loves so much caught between your teeth as he noses at your neck. Teeth nipping at skin, an urge to leave a mark for later.
That cry finally loosened as he moves down. Teeth and tongue biting and soothing at the tight peaks of your nipples. Broad hands cupping and squeezing, liking the way they fit in his palms. The way you moan, arching into his touch.
“Give me more of that,” He murmurs against your skin, "I want to hear you."
Your body tensing beneath his when he settles between your thighs. They have to spread, to fit his shoulders. Opening you up, putting you on display.
Watching how you clench - a throaty chuckle as his thumb presses just shy of your folds. Tugging you open, seeing how your skin glistens with slick already.
“Pretty fucking sight, you know that?” His eyes flip up to yours.
You’re propped up on your elbows. Teeth sinking into your lip, breath held as your eyebrows slant in anticipation. Lips parting with his words, a minute shift of your hips.
“You should see it when it’s stuffed full. Boston cream's got nothing on her."
There’s an embarrassed groan of his name. Logan ignores him - letting his thumb rub against the tight nub of your clit, instead. Your word turning into a sharp, inhaled breath.
Teasing, each circle achingly slow. Aware of the two sets of eyes on him, burning his skin. A low ache in his belly, his glaze fixing on yours, watching as you inhale as his mouth lowers.
A soft lick, tongue lapping against your slit. Tasting you more thoroughly, dragging against soaked skin, as his fingers tease at your entrance.
Focusing on your clit, tight flicks with his tongue. Letting his lips suck on the tight bud, as he sinks down to one knuckle, then another. A second finger slipping in once you get used to him, making room for himself as he scissors you open.
He can hear the soft, wet sound of your cunt, with each plunge of his fingers. Flexing and curling them until he can feel you clamp down.
The quiet sounds you make - soft breaths and gasps - turning louder. Panting now, as you whine. Hips lifting to meet the curl of his tongue, until he pulls back.
“Should be hearing this,” Logan grits out. A quick glance towards Wade as his fingers pound into you, “Not you talking out of your ass.”
There’s silence for a long moment, the words coming out distracted.
“You talk about my ass an awful lot for a man who pretends he's not interested,” Wade manages, slowly, “You change your mind about that, too?”
His breath shallow, as Logan growls in annoyance. Attention returning back to you. Fingers working faster, head dropping again to tongue at your clit.
A leg hooks over his shoulder - a heel digging into his back, tugging him closer. Logan loses himself - growling into your pussy. His own hips pressing down into the bed, as he tugs at his belt and button, relieving the too-tight ache of denim.
Feeling how you leak against his palm, tighten around his fingers. Chase that winding pleasure as you arch into his mouth. A hand drifting off the bed, reaching. Grasping.
“Logan.” You’re begging again, pleading. For more, for anything. For him not to stop, and he leans into the way you tug at his hair, guiding him to the right spot.
You come with your fingers entwined with Wade’s. With your thighs clamped against Logan's ears as he rips a cry from you - long and loud - threatening to suffocate him.
Would be the way he’d choose to die, if he could.
The sounds come flooding back, as your thighs loosen. Boneless and languid, your smile wide as your fingers trace his scruff, the sharp curve of his jaw.
Perhaps he was wrong, to think he could silence Wade entirely. Your orgasm has only made him more vocal - complaints about how “fucking hard he is” mixing with rambling praise.
“Wilson.” He finds himself growling. Beckoning with two fingers, as Wade practically springs from the bag.
“Oh my GOD,” Wade is gushing, clambering onto the bed with him, “This is way better than joining the Avengers. Even if they do have Thor.”
“Huge praise.” You smile drunkenly, pushing yourself up to press your mouth against his.
And under his direct instructions, Logan finds that Wade almost listens.
“Get on your back,” He points, as you scooch to make room.
"Ooh, dirty." Wade grins, splaying out on his back, hands tucked under his head.
“No,” Logan makes a frustrated sound - ignoring another comment. A twirl of his finger, “The other way.”
His head is cradled near your hips now, legs stretched out toward the pillows.
Logan’s next words are a growl, “Now, clean her up.”
Wade groans, as he catches up.
“Fuck.” He whines, “Yeah. Come here, baby.”
Hands guiding you into place, your knees framing his head, as you face towards the headboard. Wade’s mouth already tipping up to meet you, a soft moan as his tongue swipes against your slit.
“I don’t want to hear you until she comes.” Logan rasps, and he can see the way Wade’s hips lift.
Just now catching the darkened fabric, where it tents.
Another thing to catalog.
Content for now to let his hands drift as he stands behind you at the edge of the bed, his chest pressing to your back. Sucking a mark in the hollow under your ear, feeling the buzz of your whine against his lips.
Hands cupping your breasts again, feeling their weight. Pinching at the tight peaks, before his thumb is smoothing over them.
Your eyes are blown wide, fingers curling against your thighs. Panting as the overstimulation tips towards pleasure, the feel of the sweet mouth below you soft and familiar.
Shifting as you sit, rocking back to where Logan’s cock presses against your lower back. His hands tugging at the zipper, shoving his jeans down as he works himself free. Kicking them off, after.
You gasp when you see him from over your shoulder, and he can’t help the way he twitches in his hand at the sound. Can’t pretend he isn’t leaking from tasting you, his cock heavy as he lets go to let it hang between his thighs.
“Fuck, that’s not fair.” It’s muffled, and you hum in agreement as Wade lifts you to get a better look, “God didn’t make you perfect enough as-is? Just had to make you proportional, you goddamn stallion.”
A derisive sound as his arm wiggles out from under you, fingers reaching.
“And Jesus H. Christ, look at the girth-”
Logan bats his hand away.
It should annoy him. That Wade isn’t listening. That he’s commenting on his cock - but it doesn’t.
Can’t help but think that in here, in this room, the chatter isn’t so bad. Would never admit that he’s wrong, just that when he’s admiring and not on a dumb-as-fuck tangent, it’s almost - flattering.
Maybe that’s too far. Tolerable, perhaps.
“You want my mouth?” You offer sweetly, breaking into his thoughts. Hungrily.
There’s a flash of white teeth as Logan smiles. A hand pressing gently against your back, until you’re stretched out over Wade.
“No. I’m still gonna fuck you, baby.” He rasps, “Just wanted a little peace and quiet while doing it.”
You moan, thighs inching wider. Head turned so you can watch the way he moves behind you. Adjusting your hips until your ass is in the air, his fingers gripping the base of his cock as he lines himself up.
“Keep going, Wilson.” He grits out, when the man goes still beneath them.
A rough chuckle rattles.
“Not a fucking chance, human tripod. I am SO watching this.”
Fuck it. He lets him.
Letting the tip of his cock press against your entrance. Wade’s arms curling around your thighs, holding you in place as you string tight above him.
“God, it’s even bigger from this angle. Feels like I’m in a goddamn eclipse right now.”
“Why do you sound surprised, babe?” Your voice is strained. Face buried against Wade’s stomach, fingers curled in the sheets, “I thought you guys fucked in the void.”
That fleeting curl of warmth leaves him.
“We what?” Logan growls, leaning back to glare at the peek of dark brown eyes, the top of a bald head he wants to slap.
Teeth bared, as he snarls, “We didn’t fuck. I beat the shit out of him in a goddamn van.”
“All night long.” Wade laughs - and then sighs fondly, “And isn’t that just the same thing?”
Fingers encircle his cock from below before he can retort, squeezing. A tug as he guides him into the tight clench of your pussy, and Logan thinks he really should just shove his claws into Wade’s dick.
But that desire bleeds away, as you stretch around him. The twin groans from beneath him, the sounds blending together.
“Oh,” You moan, clenching around him. Back arching, as he slips in another inch, “Makes sense. Was… was just wondering why it took you so long to join us.”
Logan goes still for a moment, with this new information. A realization that he could have had this the whole time, if he had asked.
That Wade hadn’t been joking before.
He groans, hips snapping forward. A grunt below as your knees squeeze against Wade’s throat, but from the way you squirm, Logan can tell that his mouth is at work again.
Teasing at your clit, as his own hips slowly start to move. Feet planting on the bedroom floor as his hands fit against your waist.
Using the leverage to drive himself deep. Hips flush as his balls slap against your skin, growing sticky with your release.
“This is hot, this is so fucking hot,” Wade groans, babbling as he sucks in a breath, “I’m so going to jerk my dick raw thinking about this later.”
And with the reminder, he supposes he can throw his roommate a bone.
“Come on, baby,” Logan rasps - reaching. A little nudge against your chin, angling your head, “Looks like he needs a little help.”
It’s benevolent. It’s selfish - his fingers biting into skin as you realize what he means. Watching as you tug at the waistband of Wade’s sweatpants, pushing them down.
The man moans, from between your thighs. Sweet nothings mumbled as your hand wraps around his cock, angling it into your waiting mouth.
Watching how the leaking tip presses into your cheek. The buck of his hips as you fist moves, while you suck - your spit slicking up his cock.
It looks like the rest of him. Mottled skin, the tip flushed a deeper shade of red. Long and thick in your hand - Logan’s cock throbbing at the way you swallow him down, how your lips part to make him fit.
His pace picking up. Pounding into your tight, wet cunt as Wade groans against your clit. Tongue lapping and licking, winding you higher as Logan drives you towards a second.
Slowly drifting, as the flicks of his tongue grow longer. The tip pressing against your folds, as you groan around his cock.
Further down. Tasting the tang of your release - the salt of skin where you’re split open, stretched wide.
And then further. Logan jerks, as something wet drags along his shaft.
“Wade.” It comes out as a rough growl. Pitching into a huffing whine when it happens again, flattening against the heavy weight of his balls.
Choking him, as his rhythm stutters. Hips flexing into you as he grinds himself flush, teeth gritting.
“Fuck.” It’s hushed, pulled from his lungs.
Having to find himself again - hold back the urge to come right that second - as you squirm beneath him. Wade’s tongue traveling from your clit to the tight seam of his sack, his hips rocking in your mouth.
Finding a rhythm together, Logan’s head tilting back. The room filled with lewd sounds of their joining, of wet mouths and the rhythmic pounding of the headboard against the wall.
Lucky that Al was out for the morning, or else they’d never hear the end of it.
Your cries pitch up, as his cock drags against the spot his fingers found. Something clenching deep in his guts, eyes dragging down to how you look wrapped around him. The pink peek of tongue beneath, how the combination makes his toes curl.
Imagining another morning. Sharing you in another way, his cock buried in your ass while your lover fills your cunt. Whimpering between them, unable to form words.
The sound you make now are not that different - the cadence of your panting is one he’s coming to recognize.
“You close, sweetheart?” He rasps, arcing over you, “Can feel your pussy clenching around me. So fucking tight, can’t wait to feel you come all over my cock.”
It pulls a moan from you, head lifting from Wade’s cock. Resting against his stomach, as your hand wraps around him. The jerk of your fist messy, off rhythm.
“Yeah, you are.” Logan hums, as his hips rut into you, “Come on, Wilson. Make our girl come.”
There’s a rough groan. Wade listens for once, head tilting to suck at your clit. Logan concentrating on the angle that makes you cry out, a hand fisting in the sheets.
Their names a mumbled mess on your lips, as you’re yanked higher and higher. Your moans pitching up, growing louder.
Just like his dreams. Even better, really.
“Please,” You whine, “I’m, I’m-”
A high-pitched gasp, then, as your face buries against Wade’s hips. As your pussy clamps down around his cock, fluttering with the steady saw of his hips.
“Good fucking girl.” The praise is soft, as his thumbs rub circles against your skin, “That’s it, let him taste how sweet you are.”
Working together, the tight licks against your clit going lazy again. Dipping to your entrance to taste your release against his shaft, Wade’s cock leaking and bobbing against his stomach.
Drawing out your pleasure, until the stars fade from your half-lidded eyes. Until the rushing in your veins ebb, and the pulse around his cock fades.
A low sigh, before Logan’s reaching - his chin tucking against your shoulder. His hand curling around yours, guiding it back to Wade's cock.
“Don’t forget about him.” Another command, but gentle this time. His hand moving with yours, palm mapping your knuckles as he sets a rhythm, “There you go.”
He could let go. You’ve found yourself again, eyes hazy. But he keeps his hand there. Keeps a pace that is so much firmer than your own, his own hips matching the rhythm as he chases his own end.
Wade’s groan replaces yours. A hand leaving your thigh to wrap around his, biting down hard into muscle. It only drives him deeper into you. Logan’s own moan bitten back as the tongue against his dick slips against his sack again.
Then against the thin layer of skin just behind, teasing.
“Fuck.” It’s a rough growl.
His hand works faster, teeth gritting. Feral sounds caught in his throat, as the pressure in his belly grows.
The last thing he sees before he comes is the drips of white against his knuckles. The warmth, a ragged groan against the inside of his thigh. Your mouth closing around to catch the rest, taking Wade’s cock into your throat with a soft sigh.
It robs him of his breath. A shuddering moan, as he grinds himself deep. Spilling into you again and again with each pulse of his cock, blood rushing in his ears.
Legs threatening to give as he empties himself, as his chest presses flush against your back. His face buried in your hair, as your tongue traces his knuckles. Cleaning them, as he did for you.
When he can, Logan eases from you with a grunt. Watching how you gape, then clench, now empty.
A bead of his release welling up, dripping against your skin. You go to move, but Wade’s hands curl around your calves - pulling you flush.
It’s hard to look away, as he licks away Logan’s come. A sharp ache of desire with the sound of a needy groan, as his tongue dipping inside.
Maybe Wade doesn’t have such a bad mouth, after all.
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Logan’s arm is numb, but he can’t bring himself to move. Can’t remember a time when he’d let his brain turn off like this. A brief moment of silence, and it’s bliss. His world standing still.
“So that’s how you do it.” You muse quietly, dizzily. Head cradled against his chest - fingers dragging through the hair, gently scratching.
A stirring on his other side, where Wade is using his bicep like a pillow.
“Mm, I don’t think I got it,” Wade counters, but it’s soft - hazy at the edges. “Think I missed a couple steps. Was that round two or three?
"Three," You say - as Logan grunts, "Two."
The fingers on his chest drift down, dipping over his stomach.
“Well, either way...” You hum, snuggling a little closer, “Maybe you oughta show us, one more time.”
Wade flips over then, chin propped in his hand, “At least. Maybe even twice. We’re bad learners, peanut. Dumb as fucking rocks, really.”
“Mhmm,” You sigh, “Really dumb. Can't even count.”
And he can’t stop the twitch of his lips, even with his eyes closed. Had forgotten what it was like to be warm like this.
To be wanted.
And maybe, he even feels… content.
Something he never thought he’d be, again.
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thank you so much for reading! it means so much and I am so happy to be dipping my toes into these pairings💖
10K notes · View notes
tonycries · 10 months ago
Text
Go For It, Gojo! - G.S.
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Synopsis. You wouldn’t fuck Gojo Satoru even if you were paid… …is what you thought exactly five minutes before you were shoved against the wall of this cramped closet, his face stuffed in your soaked panties.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, academic rivals to lovers, student president! reader, unprotected sex, banter about physics, cunnilingus, oral sex (male + female), 7 minutes in heaven, college! AU, 69, Satoru is a tease down bad for you (and has a big dick), overstimulation, pet names (sweetheart, hardass), swearing.
Word count. 10.2k
A/N. I really don’t like physics. Art by @_3aem on X.
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Life truly has an awful sense of humor - almost as bad as Gojo’s, which you discovered on the first day of Advanced Quantum Physics. 
The air charged with nervous energy and the scent of freshly printed syllabi, you quickly snag a seat right at the front row of Professor Yaga’s class. 
Ah, you’ll never forget how peaceful those few seconds to yourself after introductions were - before the devil incarnate dramatically swung open those lecture hall doors and plopped himself down right next to you. Late. 
“Any closer to Yaga and you’d be fucking his wife, y’know.” a voice hums from beside you, shattering your daydreams of passing this class with flying colors and riding a wave of glory into becoming a Nobel prize-winning physicist. 
With a slight scowl, you turn your attention to the source of disturbance - only to meet eyes with (self-proclaimed) campus sweetheart, Satoru Gojo, leaning on his chair with an air of nonchalance. At your silence, he repeats, “I said any closer-”
“I heard what you said.” you snap, irritation flaring at the amused twinkle in his blue eyes and the mirthful grin that spreads across his lips at your reaction. “Doesn’t erase the fact that you’re sitting here too.” you raise a brow.
“Oh me? That’s because I’m already fucking his wife, sweetheart.” he deadpans with a blank expression. 
What? The tense silence that follows is deafening - for the first time ever in your life, you were shocked into speechlessness. 
A beat passes. One. Two. Before Gojo bursts into hysterics, clutching his stomach. “You- you shoulda seen the look on your face- HAHAHA-” he gets out between uncontrollable laughs. Face burning, you train your eyes forward and will yourself to not glance at the 6’3 mess cackling beside you.
Ugh. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Just think happy thoughts - kittens, quantum mechanics, being valedictorian. Desperately attempting to block out the giggling thorn at your side, you recoil at Professor Yaga’s extremely disapproving look in your direction. 
Panicking, and dreams of being his ace student slowly flushing down the drain, you quickly flip through your notes, attempting to catch up to where the lecture had now started. 
“Looks like we’re in trouble, partner~” Gojo’s dramatic stage-whisper catches the attention of students around you, them chuckling at your expense. 
“Hey, you’re the student president, right? Hey~ Heyyy prez~” As Professor Yaga continues his spiel about the syllabus, you continue to very obviously ignore the incessant comments that spill out of Gojo’s lips, to stifled laughs from his fast-forming entourage. 
The harder you tried to focus on Professor Yaga’s words, the louder and more absurd Gojo’s comments became - as if he’d made it his personal mission to enrage you. A sense of impending doom looming over you, you glare at him with a look that could’ve melted steel, hissing out, “Do you ever in your life shut the fuck up?”
Eyes widening in mock innocence, he grins “Oh~ I didn't know our student prez could get so feisty. Maybe I should take notes instead of doodling hearts around your name in my notebook.”
Ears ringing in embarrassment and frustration, and mind a whirlwind of how bad it would really be if you killed Gojo right here, you almost miss Professor Yaga’s question, “Now, would anyone here be able to discuss the interpretations in the debate between the Copenhagen interpretation and the Pilot-Wave theory?”
Teetering on the edge of your seat, you raise your hand, scrambling to salvage whatever is left of your academic reputation. You and- Gojo?
You start at the call of your name from Professor Yaga, “The Copenhagen Interpretation uses Heisenberg's uncertainty principle and emphasizes measurement to state that quantum-level particles can act as both waves and particles. It’s the most widely accepted and pragmatic theory.”
Gojo basically falls out of his seat in eagerness to answer after you.
“Ah, yes, Mr. Gojo.” 
You internally groan, ready for whatever bullshit was about to come out of his mouth. 
With a deep breath, “Not to be the devil’s advocate but the Pilot-Wave theory makes way more sense practically.”
Professor Yaga raises an intrigued eyebrow at Gojo’s statement, the class collectively holds a breath - as if awaiting the impending academic battlefield.
Gojo, with a cocky grin, plows on, “Think about it. The Pilot-Wave theory suggests that particles have definite positions and paths, unlike the uncertainty principle of the Copenhagen Interpretation. It's like predicting where a ball will land after you throw it, rather than saying it could be anywhere until you look."
Oh? He wasn’t a complete idiot?
Yet, you roll your eyes, “But the Pilot-Wave theory is too fanciful, it brings in too many hidden variables that have their own set of problems. It goes against the measurements and principles of locality!”
Unbothered by the challenge, Gojo leans back further in his chair, “What’s a couple complications? It’s a lot clearer on a microscopic level, none of that weird uncertainty of the Copenhagen Interpretation.”
Irritation running through your veins, you scoff at his condescending tone, “It might seem intuitive, but experiments and observations support the probabilistic nature of quantum mechanics.” You’re almost out of your chair at this point, an accusing finger pointed at Gojo. “Despite its weirdness, the Copenhagen Interpretation has proven successful in predicting outcomes.” 
“Oh yeah? And it’s also only used by hardasses that just want to shut up and calculate, sweetheart.”
“Big talk for a little bi-” 
“OKAY STUDENTS, that’s enough for now. Let’s put a pin in this discussion and move on with the topic.” Professor Yaga, who had been watching the debate with amusement, promptly ends it once you two begin to get overly heated. 
The rest of the class, on the edge of their seats and probably hoping for some fists swinging between the academic titans, now sit back in disappointment at the fight cut off early. 
You sit back in indignation, fuming at how Gojo had gotten you so worked up. And he was wrong too! 
The lecture continues as if you two were never two curse words away from each other’s throats. 
But, in the midst of it all, your glare meets blue, sparkling with amusement - a jolt of electricity runs through your body at the glint of recognition of the other’s brilliance. An unspoken yet undeniable competition.
You’ve avoided Gojo like the plague for the past few months since then - which isn’t doing much when said plague follows you around everywhere with incessant calls of “Hey, hardass prez~”. The only time you seek him out being to gloatingly show off the large, red “100” on your tests - to which, unfortunately, he does the same. 
It’s stupid. It’s childish. Honestly, sometimes you think he just tries to get under your skin for the hell of it.
But you don’t have the time to think too deeply into that.
Just like you don’t have time for this frat party. 
Music and alcohol thrumming through your veins, it’s always the same thing. You’d rather be holed up getting ahead of your physics textbook than be here. Yet, you owed a favor to your friend Haibara - and he’d been bugging you to come to this party for weeks now. 
You’ll just stay another hour then leave, you sigh.
Zoning out as Haibara plays an overly-intense game of beer pong, you’re startled by an arm around your shoulder. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t our lil’ prez looking like she’d rather peel paint than be here.” The expensive cologne hits you before the realization of who this was. “Drooling over the jocks? I recommend the STEM majors, sweetheart, jocks aren’t that great in bed.”
Quickly shrugging off his arm, you scowl, “Not like STEM majors are any better. And unlike some people, I have goals beyond being the life of the party.”
Decked out in slacks and a slightly too-unbuttoned shirt, Gojo chuckles, “Yeah, like what? Banishing fun?” Cerulean eyes gleaming with mischief, “You gotta let loose for once, sweetheart. Not everything in life is about academics and accolades.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes “Well not like I-” but whatever snarky retort gets caught in your throat as Gojo seizes your hand, effortlessly pulling you onto the dance floor. 
Caught off guard, you can do nothing more than sputter in surprise as he leans down to murmur in your ear, above the bass reverberating the walls, “C’mon hardass, sometimes in life, you just gotta- dance!” 
Gojo spins you into a dramatic dip, his silver chain brushing your face and his hand on your back burning into your skin.
Your cheeks burn in embarrassment - yeah, embarrassment - as the people around you cheer in amusement at the science department’s biggest rivals navigating the dance floor with surprising chemistry.
This was ridiculous. And yet, music ringing in your ears, you almost crack a smile. Almost. That is until your eye catches Haibara’s surprised ones from the side of the dance floor. Wait - here you were dancing with Gojo. 
Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru.
Immediately pushing him off with a hand to his chest, you don’t listen to whatever spills out of his mouth as you make your way to Haibara, disappearing with him into the crowd.  
“Hey, hey you okay? Wasn’t that the guy you were manifesting would step on Lego with his bare foot?” Haibara’s concerned voice speaks up from wherever you were dragging him through this sprawling frat house. 
“Ugh, yeah. Sorry about that, I don’t even- Anyway, how did the beer pong go?” you snap out of your reverie. What happened there? You were almost…enjoying yourself with Gojo Satoru of all people. 
Listening to Haibara brag about his dominating beer pong win thankfully took your mind off of your little endeavor with Gojo. 
“And then Yuji totally-”
“AH, THERE YOU ARE! Perfect, come join we’re two people short!” your kinda-friend Shoko’s drunken drawl breaks through the conversation. You can barely get a word out as she forcefully drags you two into a dimly lit room against your protests. 
The atmosphere heavy with beer and laughter, she plops you two down onto the floor in a neat circle of people before taking her seat beside you. “GREAT! Now we’ve got everyone, we can finally start.”
With a mischievous grin, Shoko declares, “Alrighty, folks! Time for the ol’ classic - we’re playing 7 minutes in heaven!” pulling out an old-fashioned, tattered hat from behind her back, to a collective mix of groans and cheers from the circle. 
“Where did you even find that ratty old thing, Shoko?” a sharply handsome man - Geto, you think - chuckles from his seat opposite you. And beside him- your heart stops. Gojo.
A smirk curling his lips and twinkling blue eyes locked on you. 
As if on instinct, you move to get up - only to be brought back down by a hand on your wrist. “Nuh-uh, no one’s escaping, c’mon it’ll be fun.” Shoko smirks, beginning to hand out pieces of paper to write down your names.
Apprehension pooling in your stomach, you share a glance with Haibara, who was honestly just happy to be here. Reluctantly, you scrawl down your name, tension building as it drops into the abyss of the hat.
“As our first attempted escapee, I think the prez should go first.” that agitating voice you knew too well speaks up. If looks could kill, Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing all over his grave with a textbook on the Copenhagen Interaction. 
To agreeing laughter - and your impending doom - the hat is promptly placed in front of you. God, you knew you should’ve stayed home. With a shaky hand, you delve in, grasping onto a slightly crumpled piece of paper.
Not Gojo. Please not Gojo. Literally anyone but Gojo- 
Turning it over.
Satoru Gojo.
You jolt in surprise, rereading the hasty handwriting over and over - as if willing it to change. This must be some kind of sick joke. Eyes meeting Gojo’s, a flash of surprises passes his face before a self-satisfied grin takes over. He looked way too fucking pleased with himself.
“No fucking way.” Shoko mutters as it dawns on the group just who you were paired up with. Cheers and wolf-whistles erupt, filling the room as Satoru stands up extending a hand theatrically towards you. “If her highness the student prez would do me the utmost pleasure of joining me.”
You scoff, jeez it would be a surprise if you two didn’t kill each other in there. “Unless she’s…intimidated?” he bats his long lashes at you mockingly.
Intimidated? Of who? Swatting away Gojo’s hand, you stand up. “Intimidated? Don’t make me laugh.” 
He leans down, retorting, “I’ve tried but you don’t seem to know how.”. The room holds their breath, attention squarely on the two of you.
A beat of silence passes as you glare at him. You really could smack his annoyingly pretty face right now, but you shouldn’t - too many witnesses. 
“Now now, you two. Save it for the closet.” 
Ever the mediator, Geto ushers you two in the direction of the - very cramped - closet tucked into a corner of the room. 
Before you know it, the creak of the heavy wooden door rings in your ears as the door closes behind you. The loud click of a lock resonates, plunging you two into darkness. 
The muffled sounds of the party seem miles away as you try to focus on your breathing - trying not to let your mind drift to Gojo. You could feel the heat of his body, the ghost of his presence less than a foot away from you.
“So…” you flinch as Gojo’s voice cuts through the deafening silence. “You still alive and breathing after being trapped in a tiny closet with me?”
You huff, desperately wanting to break out of this closet, “Yes, but you probably won’t be if you don’t stay on your side.”
“This closet is barely a closet, there’s no ‘side’, sweetheart. And that’s my leg you’re resting on.”
You immediately scramble to move away from the warmth of Gojo’s leg that you’d been subconsciously leaning yours on. In the chaos, you probably did a bit more damage than solving. “Ah! Wait- watch the crown jewels, hardass.” 
You distance yourself as much as possible in the small space, knee burning where it had brushed up against Gojo’s that.
God, you were making a fool of yourself.
“As much as I like forceful women, you better take me out on a date first, sweetheart.” As your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting filtering in through the slight crack of the door, you could make out that signature playful grin. 
Your irritation simmers beneath the surface. Gojo always knew how to get under your skin. 
“Don’t you worry your empty lil’ head, I wouldn’t fuck you even if I was paid.” you bite back.
“Oh yeah?” Gojo leans in slightly, his voice low and teasing. “You sure about that, prez? I’ve been told that I’m irresistible.”
You raise a brow, unimpressed. “Yeah, irresistibly hard to not smack.” 
“I always did like ‘em feisty. Makes our little debates all the more interesting.”
“Our debates would be a lot more interesting if you learned to keep that big mouth shut.”
“Oh? C’mon, prez, you love this ‘big mouth’. And you love the challenge. I see the way you look for me every time you answer one of Yaga’s questions, y’know.” Gojo murmurs, gaze piercing into yours.
He leans in closer - now definitely not on his side of the closet. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d call it chemistry. Admit it and I might consider not calling you ‘hardass’ for a whole week.”
“What- That’s just because- I’d rather be called ‘hardass’ for a lifetime than admit to having any chemistry with you. I can’t even tolerate you for seven minutes here.” you sputter at both his proximity and his (absurd) accusations.
“As the student prez, isn’t your entire job to tolerate everyone? You’re a walking contradiction, sweetheart.”
“I am not. You have no effect on me.” you protest, standing firm. In the heat of your argument, you and Gojo have drawn closer to each other. His breath now fanning your face as he hums, voice a seductive tease, “I do, admit it. There’s a part of you that likes our chemistry.”
A defiant spark ignites in your eyes, “I’ll admit no such thing.”
“Then…hit me like I know you want to if you don’t want this.” he whispers, voice breathless. He closes the distance.
Gojo’s lips meet yours. 
Soft, they were so soft. 
Your heartbeat thundering in surprise, a hand raising to - to what? Smack him away? Eyes fluttering closed, your hand fists his shirt, the other subconsciously finding its way to his cloudy locks. Tugging. Kissing him back. 
Satoru kisses you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, he knows - he probably won’t.
Lips searing against yours, his eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste. Sweet - so sweet - just like candy, with a hint of Baileys and everything that he’ll never be able to have. 
A strangled groan leaves his throat when you bite down on his lips. Tugging with your teeth. Shit, fuck him and his bigass ego, he wanted to be the one showing off his irresistibility but really it’s the other way around. 
Mouth opening to let you in, he drinks in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Large hands on your face pulling you impossibly closer to him in this godforsaken closet. It was dizzying - almost as if it hurt to part, drawn by that familiar magnetism that always seems to hang around you.
Lost in the heat of the moment, Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body. Groping and squeezing every curve and dip - he doesn’t have enough time. He probably never will.
A hand rests firmly on your hips. Awaiting. Breaking away - just a fraction - he breathes out urgently into your lips, “I need to taste you. Let me taste you. Please.”
“Desperate, huh?”
Your gaze pierces through him, it always does. Immediately after your disoriented nod, he presses a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. God, he could do this forever.
You shudder as he hastily bunches your tight dress at your hips, sending blood rushing straight to his cock. Shit, this was not how he expected these 7 minutes to go.
Hurriedly falling to his knees, the pain doesn’t even register when he comes face-to-face with your clothed cunt. Panties already so wet - just for him. Cock twitching carnally, he needed to taste you now. 
Tongue flattening across your swollen folds through your underwear, just a slight taste of your wet pussy and Satoru already thinks he might pass out. Ah, so good - of course you taste heavenly.
“Ah! Gojo- more.”
Pulling away, he feels drunk off the whimper of disappointment that escapes your mouth. “Call me Satoru.” he hums, fingers deftly sliding your soaked panties down your legs. His hot breath fanning your entrance has you clenching your thighs together, desperate for any friction.
Mouth watering at this, Satoru curses the darkness inside the closet - can’t even admire your pretty pussy right. You flinch as his face meets your cunt. Shit, this was better than he’d ever imagined on those lonely nights pathetically fucking his fist.
He breathes you in so sinfully, tongue sliding teasingly between your folds in a leisurely rhythm that almost has him forgetting however many minutes you two have left. Frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either. Sinful squelches fill the confined space, along with your quiet moans of his name. 
“Hngh- S-Satoru. Feel s’good. Faster.” 
Ah, it’s really music to his ears. Your voice plays on repeat in his mind. He doesn’t even realize the call from outside until you look down at him, eyes dazed and kiss-bitten lips moving to panickedly mutter, “Satoru, we only have three more minutes.”
Ah, guess he’ll have to take his time in his dreams. 
“I only need two.” Satoru purrs, lips ghosting your wet core, voice sending goosebumps down your spine - all the way down to your dripping cunt. 
“W-well, stop hngh- running your mouth then.” you retort.
Satoru’s smirk against your plush folds is the last thing you see before he dives nose-deep in your pussy. He doesn’t waste time, tongue dipping in and out of your hole at an unforgiving pace. In and out in and out in and-
“Hah- yes! Satoru jus’ like that!” you hiss out, desperately trying to keep the moans ripping from your throat to a minimum, in fear of the others outside hearing. 
Noticing, Satoru snakes a hand up to your mouth - bullying his ringed-fingers in through your swollen lips. His index caresses your tongue, speeding up his movements on your pretty pussy as you gag around him. Moans catch in your throat as you struggle to accommodate him, the pleasure of being stretched from two ends too much. 
Satoru only has to take one look - tears clinging to your lashes and drool trickling down the corner of your mouth as you suck on his fingers - before he thinks he might just cum in his pants. Fuck, it was so lewd. 
You tighten your grasp on his hair, sure that your knees would give out if it wasn’t for the bruising grip he had on your hips, keeping you firmly on his mouth. Unable to run away. 
Shit, for someone so tight-laced, you were so messy on his mouth. He moans as your slick pools in his mouth, dripping down the corners of his lips. The  tap! tap! tap! of it hitting the hardwood floor rings deafeningly in his ears.
Ah, so this is why they call it 7 minutes in heaven. Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind dying if it was in between your legs being suffocated by your cunt. 
Your entrance clamps down desperately on his tongue, forcing him to bully it into your snug pussy, fucking you unrelentingly. His nose rubbing against your swollen clit over and over. 
At this point, Satoru doesn’t know whether the pulse he feels is that of his heartbeat or your cunt, throbbing and achingly needy for his mouth. His nose stimulates your clit just right, sending shockwaves through your body that have you bucking into him for more.
Voice slightly muffled by his fingers, “Fuck- Satoru, keep going. Hngh- I’m gonna cum!” 
The way your walls desperately try to fuck his tongue has his cock straining so painfully against his trousers. Satoru increases his abuse on your cunt mercilessly, the harsh pace making you squeal and buck into his face. Your juices are now all over his mouth, gushing around his tongue. In and out in and out in and out-
“Satoru!”
You cum hard - all over Satoru’s pretty face.
Now, Satoru loves when you run your mouth and infuriate him, but he might just love it even more when you’re falling apart and speechless under his touch. 
Riding out your high on his features, you can feel yourself quivering around his tongue as he laps up your juices as if it were a delicacy. Deep moans leaving his mouth and vibrating across your soaked cunt, making you jolt at the overstimulation.
Pulling back, Satoru admires your unfocused eyes and bruised lips. “For someone that so fucking despises me, your slutty pussy sure is sucking me in so desperately.” he murmurs, slightly out of breath after what just transpired. 
“Sh-shut up.”
Ah, if only he got to see this view more often. 
You can’t help but feel the same way. Seeing Satoru fucked out, vibrant eyes half-lidded and blown out, your slick prettily glossing all over his mouth and nose. A small voice in the back of your mind wishes he was more like this and not whatever he is when he’s getting on your nerves.
“ONE MORE MINUTE! Finish up whatever devil’s tango or death match y’all are having in there!”
Those troublesome thoughts are pushed out of your mind as soon as you hear Shoko call from outside.
The bubble is broken. Jumping apart as far as possible in the cramped closet, you press yourself into the closet wall as you two wordlessly rush to make yourselves slightly more presentable. The air, once charged with overflowing tension and sex, now so strained.
Bending down to feel for the panties that Satoru- no, Gojo had thrown god-knows-where, your hands graze his - still slightly wet with your spit. Snatching your hands back as if it burned, you make out Gojo’s figure pocketing something.
Your panties??
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you hiss, face burning at both his actions and the idea of going outside without panties.
“Just think of it as repayment for the fun.” he hums, mirth spilling into his tone. And before you could snap at his antics, Shoko is ripping the door open and looking around the closet for what you can only assume to be missing body parts and blood.
“Aw, man. And here I was thinking Satoru would be six feet under by now.” she groans, walking off disappointedly - for which you were eternally grateful otherwise she’d have seen the few suspicious stains on the floor.
“Remember, you owe me twenty, Shoko.” Geto speaks up from the circle. Were they…betting on whether you and Gojo would kill each other in there?
Finally stepping out of that godforsaken closet, you catch the smirks and raised eyebrows from some of the people from the group.
Meeting Gojo’s eye, a smirk curls around his swollen lip as he swipes a thumb across it. Agonizingly slow. Teasing. 
Your cheeks flare, something pooling in your stomach. Ugh, this is why you hate frat parties.
“You alright, man? You look…flushed?” you hear Geto question, pointedly staring at Satoru’s slightly disheveled look.
It was all getting too much - the alcohol in the air, the thumping of the overplayed pop music, and him. You felt so lightheaded. Ripping your gaze from Gojo’s you leave without so much as a goodbye to him, only stopping for a reassuring nod at Haibara. You make a beeline for the exit, dashing out of there and down the winding staircase as fast as you could. 
Focused on navigating the packed party, you almost don’t register Gojo rushing after you. Ignoring whatever words were tumbling out of Gojo’s mouth, you silently thank the sorority that had just pulled up - clinging onto him in greeting, making it impossible to follow after you. 
The cool night air washes over you as you finally step outside. You sigh in relief as you leave the chaotic sounds of the party - and him - behind. 
Impatiently waiting for your friend on the way to pick you up, only two thoughts echo in your mind.
He actually only needed two minutes.
What the fuck?
Meanwhile, back in that heady room, Shoko nudges Suguru, the latter still watching in amusement where Satoru had run after you in the door. “Hm?” he asks, absent-mindedly.
“Why do most of these papers have Satoru’s name?”
---
You pass through the next morning in a daze. The hardest part was probably trying to get dressed without making eye contact with the purple finger marks on your hips that Sato- Gojo had left to remember him by.
You still can’t believe that happened. 
It’s alright, it was just a mistake in the heat of the moment - you just have to forget it ever happened, right? But that’s easier said than done when your last class of the day is Advanced Quantum Physics.
Cursing your timetable, you step through the crowded campus. You pull your sweater tighter around yourself, the fabric doing nothing to stop your skin searing where Gojo’s lips had been just last night.
Alright, you just had to get through this one class today. There’s a lot of people in Professor Yaga’s class - it’s not like you’ll necessarily see that bane of your existence-
“Yooo prez, fate just seems to bring us together hmm?” 
Gojo almost topples out of his chair, waving in your direction. As your eyes sweep across the room, you can feel your heart sinking. Shit, you really feel like you’re being Punk’d right now. 
Cursing whoever was up there for this cruel joke, you make your way to the desk beside Satoru’s - the only empty one. 
Slumping down onto the chair with a frustrated huff, you sink into yourself - eyes trained firmly forward and ignoring the playful grin in your peripheral vision.
To your surprise, Gojo doesn’t say a word throughout the lecture. Not a single comment about fucking any professor’s wife - or your cunt. Huh, did last night cause some type of qi deviation or something?
As Professor Yaga drones on about quantum entanglement, you find the words going in one ear and out the other, too focused on wondering what Gojo’s game was.
It’s only towards the end of the lecture, at the introduction of some new assignment that you find yourself finally letting your guard down. Okay, see, it wasn’t too bad. Now time to go back to your apartment and study whatever quantum entanglement was for the next five hours.
“Ah- And remember, the midterm assignment pairings are posted on Canvas.” 
What was that?
God, you hated working with other people. It was much more efficient for you to stay in and finish this paper in one sitting.
“So, partner~ My place or yours?”
What?
The bell rings, its metallic chime resonating in your mind almost as loud as Gojo’s words. Signaling the end of class - and probably the end of your sanity. 
You wish the ground would swallow you up at this very moment. These days have really not been your days.
---
“Literally what do you bring to the table?”
“Comedic relief and my undeniably good looks.”
“...”
“...and also the case study and background information.”
The air at the stuffy café just off-campus was a mixture of freshly ground coffee and hushed conversations - of course, occasionally disrupted by the chaotic debates that erupted from your little booth.
Not too long ago, as everyone moved to file out of the classroom, you were frozen, glaring at your open laptop so intensely you half-expected it to combust - scrutinizing the neat arrangement of Gojo’s name next to your own over a million times.  
Finally sighing in defeat, you nodded in surrender at Gojo - who was whooping in victory. But, you were still adamant on meeting somewhere in public. The last time you two were left alone ended up…interesting. 
“Then you do that and I’ll take care of the rest of the theoretical analysis and evaluation. Okay, sounds good, Gojo.” you deadpan, rubbing the sides of your forehead in frustration. 
“Ouch, no Satoru?”
Ignoring his comment, you promptly slam your laptop closed, gathering your things with a determined sigh. Ready to escape the stifling atmosphere of the cafe. “So you do that and put it on the doc, and I’ll do the same with my parts. See ya.”
That’s when you feel a large hand covering yours - the same one from- “Hey there now, hardass, stay a little longer - gotta make sure you don’t slander quantum entanglement in our essay the same way you do with the Pilot-Wave theory.” Gojo interrupts your intrusive train of thought. 
“What? Unlike you, I don’t slander any scientific theories. Although, I do think the idea of entangled particles jumping around like you do is hardly the hallmark of a stable scientific theory.” you retort, face burning but setting down your bag nonetheless.
Resting his face on his hands, he grins at you. “Oh yeah? I think stability is overrated, prez. Quantum entanglement challenges you because it’s a realm where your precious stability crumbles in the face of non-local correlations.”
God, was he glad he begged on his knees to Yaga to pair you two together. He was having way too much fun with this. 
“Just because particles can communicate faster than you can comprehend doesn't mean we should abandon reason.” you raise a brow. 
“Well, I think you should just embrace the uncertainty, sweetheart. Life is a game of chance, just like quantum entanglement.”
“Oh, really?” you drone out, sarcastically. 
“Yeah, think about it. For instance, I never thought I’d still be alive and breathing after last night. But here I am.” at your stunned silence, he continues. “I for sure thought you’d have the coffin ready as soon as I kissed y-”
You panickedly place your hands over his mouth to shut him up, those blue eyes twinkle in amusement. “When I said you had a big mouth I really wasn’t lying, huh.” 
Slowly removing your hands once it seemed like Gojo wouldn’t spill your endeavors in this family-friendly cafe, you sigh, “Okay- We’ll get some shit done today, alright. But this is the last time I’m meeting with you for this.”
“Mhm~ You got it, prez.”
It was not the last time you met with Gojo for this. 
Nor was it the second-last.
Or the third-last. 
Each and every time you two worked together on the assignment, you’d spend more time bickering about anything ranging from what you’d learned in Professor Yaga’s class that day to whether the old lady who frequented the café was a part of the mafia. 
“I’m telling you, she handles those knitting needles like they’re a weapon.”
“Mhm and she sips her Earl Grey like she’s plotting espionage. Now, get to work before I use my teaspoon as a weapon.”
“I’d rather investigate her than this damn Qiskit simulation.”
“Sure, Gojo. I’ll add her to our list of groundbreaking research projects.”
“Don’t come crying to me when I rub it in your face once we see her on the news as a mafia queenpin, prez.”
You’re pretty sure the café employees have a love-hate relationship with you and Gojo - too lively to be one of their favorite regulars, but arguments too amusing to kick you two out. 
And as for your relationship with Gojo…well. It’s not as if you can’t go 7 minutes without being somewhat civil, and yet that’s exactly the issue, isn’t it?
After what had happened that night, it feels as if there’s something charging the air whenever you two are together.
You chalk it up to just lingering tension, but that still doesn’t explain the way Gojo’s eyes hold a warm twinkle whenever he looks at you - gaze a little too warm than you’d expect a rival to have. But it’s fine, you just have to ace this assignment and then this strange dynamic can go back to normal.
It’s only towards the end of your assignment that you realize how wrong you really were.
---
Out of breath and darting across campus towards where you knew Gojo was waiting, you half-wish you joined the track team instead of the student government. Damn student reps, can’t keep proper archives.
As much as you got a kick out of getting on Gojo’s nerves, you hated to keep anyone waiting.
“Ah! Prez! Was heartbroken thinking you’d stood me up, y’know?” Satoru calls once he spots you bolting towards him on that dimly-lit pathway. Wow, maybe you should’ve joined the track team.
You trip. Ah, maybe not.
Feet automatically hastening your way, he catches you. Well, more like you fall into his arms.
“Just in time, huh?” he chuckles, thankful for the sun dipping below the horizon - otherwise you’d surely have caught the rosy flush tinting his cheeks. Arms wrapped around your waist and supporting your waist, Satoru almost coos at the surprised look gracing your face. You always did something to his heart.
Hastily distancing himself from you once you stand on your own, he rambles - anything to drown out the banging of his heart against his chest. “So, I’m assuming you were out there doing all your president-ly duties?” 
“Ah! Yes, I’m so sorry, the meeting ran overtime and-” 
Listening to you rant, Satoru thinks that he wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here - bickering with you. He’s only snapped out his reverie at your disappointed groan. Oh, what was this? He didn’t even realize his feet had carried him to the little café already. 
Ripping his eyes from you, he turns to what moping at. A sign with red writing is plastered over the very locked café entrance - Sorry! Staff training today, hope to see you tomorrow!
“Seems like everyone’s got meetings today.” he hears you grumble. Satoru knows it isn’t right, but his heart leaps slightly at the chance to get to know you outside of that familiar cafe.
You, meanwhile, felt tension - and something else - pooling in your stomach. Shit, if the sanctuary of your café is no longer available…
“Well, we could just go home and finish off the paper by ourselves. It’s only the last bit anyway.” you suggest, voice slightly shaky at the idea and anticipation of actually being alone with Gojo after so long. 
“But Suguru’s such a loud snorer, I’d never get any work done.” Gojo whines. Well, there goes that plan.
“The library?”
“I hear it’s haunted this time of year.” he answers right away. 
“Ghosts are seasonal?” you ask absent-mindedly, too focused on weighing between the need to finish this assignment today and the uncertainty of what would happen between you and Gojo.
A tense silence fills the slowly darkening street as you go through all your options. Finally, watching the long shadows casted now, you sigh. “Fine. We’ll go to my place.” you mutter out. 
“Would you get angry if I celebrated right now?”
“Maybe.”
The walk to your apartment is bathed in the soft orange glow of the setting sun. It was almost peaceful - if it weren’t for Gojo’s excited chattering about god-knows-what. 
Your mind was running a million miles a minute. Was something like last time going to happen? Were you a lecher for expecting it? Why didn’t you mind the thought as much as you think you should?
You risk a glance at Satoru, who was in the middle of a passionate speech about how ketchup was a valid condiment on pasta. Soft sunlight paints his hair an amber hue, casting warm shadows that bring out his pretty features, eyes sparkling with passion and mischief. He was beautiful.
Wait. Beautiful?
“Hey isn’t this your apartment building or is walking past it a pre-entrance ritual?” 
Ah. Whoops.
You snap out of those ridiculous notions, gathering whatever dignity you have left to walk back to the apartment complex you’d left in the dust while wrapped up in your thoughts.
“Oooo, didn’t take you for much of a decorator, hardass.” Gojo comments, flitting about your cozy apartment to look at all the little knick-knacks and pictures 
“Did you really think I lived in some sterile lab?” you retort. Gojo’s almost-endearing curiosity amuses you enough to let go of the electricity thrumming through your body at having him so close. In your home. 
“Well, I expected more beakers and fewer fairy lights, sweetheart.”
You roll your eyes, pretending to be offended. “Believe it or not, Gojo, hardasses can have a sense of style, too.”
He continues his exploration, stopping in front of a photo on the wall. “Who’s this model?” he grins, pointing at a picture of you in stuffy formal attire at some conference.
You sigh, knowing exactly which photo he's referring to. “That, Gojo, is me at a conference presenting a groundbreaking research paper.”
“Groundbreaking, huh? Is that what they call it these days?” he hums, arching an eyebrow playfully. 
“Yes, and six feet under is what they’ll be calling you if you don’t get your ass here and finish this paper.”
“...yes, prez.”
Writing the conclusion and inserting citations is always the fun part. If you could write an essay on whatever you want, it would be only conclusions and citations, you think.
After a few hours of working on your paper, apparently Gojo does not feel the same way.
“Fuck Noodletools. All my homies hate Noodletools.”
“This is why you only have two friends, Gojo.”
“Hey! I’m a very likable person, y’know.” 
“...”
He sets his laptop down leaning closer to you over where he was seated opposite you on the coffee table, clearly bored of citations for the time being. “Also, aren’t we friends, sweetheart? Technically I have three.”
You raise a brow, this was the first time Satoru had ever addressed the strange dynamic you two had. “Are we?” you ask, genuinely. 
A deafening silence envelopes your living room. This was the first time you’d seen such a serious expression take over Gojo’s face as he answers, voice even, “I’m not sure.”
The atmosphere thickens with a charged tension, the weight of Gojo’s words lingering in the room. A spark flickers in his eyes. You feel like you could almost get whiplash from the contrast between the heated banter to where you two were now. Was it always so hot in this room?
You let out a strained laugh, attempting to diffuse the seriousness and go back to a trivial territory you were more familiar with. “I never thought the great Gojo Satoru would be uncertain about something.” Your eyes flicker unwillingly from his intense gaze to his worry-bitten lips.
The mischief returning to his gleaming eyes, he smirks “Uncertainty can be thrilling, don't you think, sweetheart?”
You don’t even know what to say to that - and you don’t have to. Because before you can respond, Gojo swiftly leans over the coffee table - catching your lips in a sudden, electrifying kiss. 
Time stands still. A shiver runs down your spine as you realize that you didn’t want to push him away. At all. In fact, you grab a fistful of his soft locks, pulling him impossibly deeper into the kiss. 
Pulling away mere millimeters, Gojo’s hot breath fanning your mouth as he whispers, “Told you the uncertainty is thrilling, sweetheart.”
“Shut up and kiss me.” you grumble, irritated because his lips ghosting yours was not enough.
Before you know it, Gojo has you pinned against the plush couch. His lips finding your, the kiss deepening as he yearns for that desperate connection - as if each breath depends on smothering you with dizzying kisses. 
The room seems to shrink, right now only filled with the heated exchange of breaths and the feeling of Satoru’s lips searing into yours. 
You think he tastes like caramel and uncertainty - yet, this time, you fall into the unknown with open arms. Wrapping your legs around his toned waist, your arms around his broad shoulders - bringing him to you so close you’d think the laws of physics were taking a coffee break.
It almost hurt. 
The intensity of the moment only growing, the atmosphere in your homey apartment crackles with a tension that you knew in the back of your mind had been building for so long - ever since that party.
Your heartbeat echoes in your ears. You knew this would happen.
And a part of you needed it to.
His fingers trace a path along your jawline, leaving a trail of heat - you shudder, craving for more. 
“Gojo, I want you.” you breathe out, words muffled by Satoru sucking sinfully on your lips. 
He pulls away slightly, delicate strings of saliva still connecting him to you. Every fiber of his being resisting to part.
“Don’t call me that.” he purrs out, the intensity of his half-lidded stare sending a jolt straight down to your heated core. “It’s Satoru when we’re fucking, remember?”
Looking into his sultry eyes, for the first time ever you decide to heed what Satoru says. “S-Satoru, please.” you whimper, hips bucking up to meet his own. You can feel the large outline of his achingly hard cock straining against those stupidly overpriced trousers, pussy quivering in anticipation. 
Now, there have been three times in his life that Satoru thinks he has died and gone to heaven. The first being when he discovered that the ramen joint by his dorm also had free Wi-Fi. Second, that first day in Advanced Quantum Physics when you snapped at him told him to shut the fuck up. 
And finally, right now, as he’s got you needy and squirming underneath him - such pretty gasps of his name leaving your kiss-bitten lips. 
God, navigating quantum physics is a walk in the park in comparison to what you put his heart through. 
“Hmm, never in my life thought I’d see his view, sweetheart.” he whispers lowly into your ear, delighting in the goosebumps that erupt along your alluring body. How did he get so lucky?
Hastily pulling down your shorts, his mouth waters at your wet panties. Another prize for him, hm? Throwing them along with your panties to god-knows-where, Satoru drinks in the sight of your bare pussy - a privilege that he didn’t get in that godforsaken closet. 
Ah, so ready and dripping for him already. Your slick glistens out of your heated entrance as you clench around nothing. “Aww, they’ve faded.” he whines, heart lurching at the lack of his marks from last time.
It’s alright, he can just make more.
Not one to waste time, with a bruising grip holding your hips steady, Satoru grinds his painfully hard cock into your needy cunt, savoring the pretty mewls that leave your mouth. The way your swollen pussy quivers against him makes him throw his head back, seeing stars already. 
Nipping along your neck, leaving marks he knows you’ll have to cover up tomorrow. “Sit on m’face,” he murmurs into your skin.
“W-what?”
Pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the valley of your breasts, Satoru breathes you in. Fuck, he prefers the smell of your skin to any scent in the world. “Sit- on- my- face.” he repeats, words punctuated with erotic kisses to your hardened nipples, tongue flicking them through the fabric of your clothes. 
“You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know?” you gasp. Yet, still shifting on that cramped couch. Why do you two always fuck in the most inconvenient places?
Satoru’s legs hang off the end of your couch as he lays on his back, you’d almost find the position funny - if it weren’t for you straddling his head. 
His hot breath on your wet cunt sends waves of electricity though your entire body as you hover over his mouth. Your needy pussy right above where his mouth is, hesitating. Your slick oozes slowly through your swollen folds - drip! drip! drip! onto his awaiting tongue, brows furrowing and eyes rolling to the back of his head at your sweet juices.
“Mhm, and I hope that you’ll be the death of me.” he hums, tongue savoring your taste.
It’s the last thing said before Satoru surges forward, plunging mouth-first into your heated cunt. 
Despite not being on a time crunch this time, Satoru doesn’t waste a moment teasing - he already has you splayed out and aching for him, what more could he want?
He bullies his tongue into your snug cunt, pushing past the first ring of muscle. You twitch around him, sweet moans spilling incessantly from your mouth. “Ah! Hngh- Satoru! Fuck s’good.”
Your sounds of pleasure going straight to his dick, he bucks into your hands. Ah, more. He needs your touch more. 
The feeling of your plush walls clamping down on him only spurs him on further, fucking you at a ruthless pace. One hand gropes across your body, resting a thumb on your clit that rubs tight circles, making you grind down further into his mouth. 
“Your pussy is so honest, sweetheart. She wants me so badly.” he murmurs, voice sending vibrations that make you let out a loud moan which he suspects your neighbors would be complaining about. 
You were so perfect for him, Satoru thinks he might go insane.
You were definitely going insane.
Satoru shows no mercy, his abuse on your dripping cunt only speeding up at every buck of your hips into his tongue. It felt so fucking good. 
Closing your eyes, his pressure on your core has you seeing spots behind your vision. You could feel the curl of his signature smirk against your folds as your pussy tries sucking him back in at every thrust. Too good to let him go. “Knew you loved this ‘big mouth’, hardass.” he murmurs. 
Shit, you can’t be the only one acting so needy like this.
“What’re you doing, sweetheart?” Satoru drawls, voice muffled by your cunt as he feels the breeze of his lower abdomen hitting the heady air of your living room.
“Payback.” is all you mutter out as you fumble his trousers down his long legs. Curse these gyms. Curse squats. Why did he have to be so perfectly sculpted? An Adonis in his true form. 
You can feel the saliva pooling in your mouth as his boxers come into view - rock-hard cock straining painfully against it A patch of pre-cum pools at his head - he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. Hands shaky from the way Satoru’s incessant tongue was fucking into you, you shuffle his boxers down. 
Satoru’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs. Fuck- how the hell were you supposed to take him? Life was really unfortunate - water was wet, and Gojo Satoru has a huge dick.
“S-sweetheart, you don’t have to-” he murmurs against your swollen pussy. 
From all your times shutting up Gojo Satoru, this one might just be your favorite. 
His words catch desperately in his throat as you spit out a pool of saliva onto Satoru’s furiously flushed head. A low hiss leaving him as you teasingly lick his sensitive slit. 
Never one to back down from a challenge, Satoru attaches his lips with yours once more. He groans lowly into you, the stimulation making you yelp in surprise. 
“So, it’s like that, huh?” 
Satoru doesn’t have the time to ponder your words before you take in as much of his length as you can in one go. “Ah! Hah- Oh fuck, prez. Always knew you were a forceful woman.”
You moan at the slightly salty taste of his precum. Gagging around him, drool drips down the corner of your mouth as you try to take him in inch by fucking inch. It was so fucking messy.
Diving nose-deep in your cunt once again, Satoru continues the merciless pace of his tongue once more. Both your muffled moans fill the heated room, lost in the pleasure and the heat of the moment.
Shit, you knew by the way your walls clenched down on his tongue that you weren’t gonna last long. And judging by the urgent twitching of Satoru’s cock - he wasn’t going to either. 
He fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth, your eyes watering as his tip hits the back of your throat. Ropes of spit and precum decorate your lips. Even the staunch part of you that never backs down for anyone cheers at being so used. It’s so fucking debauched.
Your hand moves down to massage his heavy balls, tugging and pulling at a rhythm that matches the rapid ministrations of his thumb on your swollen clit.
Mind spinning and pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming as you both lean closer and closer to your highs. With a final mewl around his thick cock, your juices are gushing all around Satoru’s mouth. 
Your mind blanks as you cum, the only things registering being the tingles of your oversensitive pussy as Satoru rides you through your high on his tongue and the taste of Satoru as he cums in hot spurts in your mouth. Salty, with a hint of sweet - the flavor making your pussy twitch.
Fucking his seed into you, your mouth milks his cock. His cum dribbling down the corner of your mouth, all thoughts of dirtying your couch go out your brain when you hear the fucked out whines at the back of Satoru’s throat.
Fuck a refractory period, you wanted to hear that more.
You remove yourself from him with a lewd pop! Cum flowing smoothly down your throat, you lock eyes with Satoru over your shoulder. His jaw drops, pupils blown lustfully as your tongue sticks out - showing the way you’ve swallowed every single drop of his seed.
“Now, Satoru. I need you to fuck me with yours cock just as you did with your tongue.” your words still strained from your orgasm.
Wordlessly, Satoru nods, eyes shining - still reeling from the sinful sight of your bruised lips glossy with his cum - his cum that you swallowed as if it was a delicacy.
Meanwhile you were thinking that you should fuck Satoru more if it meant you got him to shut up and be pretty more often. 
Slightly more clear-headed now, just as lustful. 
Your couch creaks in protest as you shift positions to face Satoru once more. He seizes your lips in a passionate kiss, mouth attacking yours with a desperation for your essence.
Your head spins as you taste yourselves on each other, words tumbling out of your mouth in the haze, “Satoru, bed- now.”
But when has he not challenged you?
“Mhm, anything you say, prez.” he whispers raspily against your lips, still-hard cock teasingly dragging along your swollen folds. 
“Satoru.”
“Fuck yes. Say m’name, sweetheart.” he groans out, throwing his head back against the armrest. Your slick pools all over Satoru’s thick head, dripping sensually down his length to where he gripped tightly at the base. 
Swollen lips dropping into a small “oh”, he slides a ringed hand up his member, spreading your juices. Cock twitching carnally at the way your pussy was leaking all over him, he grits out, “Need to feel you around my cock now, sweetheart.”
So he does.
Thick head pressing into your tight entrance, a low growl leaves his throat at how sinfully tight you were. Fuck, he could just about pass out right now.
“S’tight, sweetheart. So good.” he fucks up into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips - impatience quickly waning. You yelp at each thrust, walls burning with the stretch of Satoru’s thick head. 
You try to steady yourself as Satoru’s thrusts get deeper and deeper, nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. In the midst of it all you still manage to impatiently slur out, “I-if you’re gonna fuck me then hah- fuck me like you mean it, Satoru.”
Oh, that did it.
Your words make the last bit of sanity Satoru had left snap. 
In a swift movement, he sheaths his throbbing erection in your wet cunt completely. A gasp gets caught in his throat at the way your walls were clamping down on him in surprise. 
He looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and a dangerously predatory glint in them that sends shivers down your spine. “Fuck me like I mean it, huh? You’re quite bossy, y’know that, prez?”
Before you can retort - and probably dig your grave deeper - he stands up in one fluid motion, your legs around his waist and cock still buried deep in your snug pussy. You moan at the change in angle, his tip now kissing your cervix so deliciously painfully. Shit, you feel so full. 
Hands moving down to grope your ass firmly and support your weight, he grins lowly in your ear, “You’re lucky I love that part of you.”
The wall is cold as Satoru shoves your back against it. his body making the air leave your lungs as he presses into yours, ramming into you at a merciless pace. Your tight cunt clenches so tightly around him, as if to prevent him from leaving. 
Each thrust into your warm core has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, brows furrowing in ecstasy. His lips capture yours once again in a rough dance that matches the cadence of his hips.
You mewl against his mouth at the feeling of his heavy balls stinging your skin as they smack your ass. The power behind each harsh thrust has you bouncing against the wall, legs pulling tighter around his toned waist to bully his cock impossibly deeper in you. 
“Where- fuck! Where’s the bed?” he moans breathlessly against your lips, voice sounding as if each thrust of his pulsing cock into your plush walls sends him spiraling deeper into insanity.
“Down- down the hallway. Hngh- fuck, Satoru!” you not far behind.
Your mind is foggy, barely even registering as Satoru moves blindly towards your bedroom with powerful strides - not yet pulling out of you.
He doesn’t get very far before he’s got you sprawled over your bedroom floor, your carpet digging into you as his cock slams into your abused cunt with that feral pace he loves so much. Not even making it to the bed.
“Ah! Hah- Satoru, what happened to the bed?” you sputter out in-between uncontrollable moans. 
“Too far. Hngh- need you now.” he answers around your breasts, teasing and tweaking your sensitive nipples.
“Wh-who’s irresistible now?” you manage to smirk, relishing in the huff of laughter that escapes him. Even now, you always did manage to one-up him.
“Mhm, you’ve always been irresistible, sweetheart.” he mutters, moving to press a chaste kiss against your forehead, not sure whether the words were even meant for you to hear. 
And you know it’s just pussy-drunk talk, but right now you can’t help the way your cheeks heat up, heartbeat ringing in your ears. 
Not sure how to respond to that, you pull him closer to you, allowing him to bury his burning face in the crook of your neck. Maybe right now neither of you needed to speak, your bodies doing enough talking as Satoru continues his relentless cadence.
Your hips bucking up to meet his, you whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room as Satoru moves down a hand to draw rough, little circles over and over your throbbing clit. It was all too much. “S-Satoru.”
“Me too, my sweetheart. Me too.” is all he gasps out, teeth digging into your neck at the pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Satoru’s tight balls twitch as they smack your ass, cock glistening with cum and slick. He sees stars behind his eyes - or maybe those were tears at the overstimulation. He really doesn’t know anymore. 
Head spinning and thoughts racing with only Satoru Satoru Satoru, you’re very much in the same state. 
“Satoru?” you whine out, tears clinging to your lashes.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
You pull him into an intense kiss, pussy clamping down on him desperately as his lips brand yours - it sends you both over the edge. 
Satoru thinks he sees heaven as he cums, and you were probably an angel. 
Hot ropes of his thick cum paint your walls white, cunt quivering around him as you both ride out your climaxes together. A creamy ring forms around his base as he fucks his seed into you desperately, marking you so obviously as his. All thoughts of Plan B run out of your mind at the overstimulated whimpers leaving Satoru’s ruby lips.
His dick twitches inside you as his unforgiving thrusts slow down to shallow grinds of his hips, nothing more than to keep his cum inside of you as your highs bate.
Body collapsing onto yours, careful to not crush you with his weight, Satoru pulls you closer to him. And despite everything that happened this evening, he thinks that this might be what makes his ears burn red the most. Your body so vulnerably connected with his own. Just the two of you in this quiet world.
The silence feels intimate and fragile. Brain still hazy from your orgasms, you don’t think you’ve ever quite looked at your bedroom ceiling from his angle. 
Strangely enough, Satoru’s warm weight on you feels comforting. Neither of you speak now. Nor do you speak when Satoru carries you to bed, searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe you clean with. 
It’s only when he lingers at the foot of your bed - uncertain - that the silence is broken. “Get in, stupid.” you scoff, opening the covers invitingly.
Of course, an elated smile overtaking his face, Satoru jumps in your bed with enough force to send you both bouncing. It was childish. It was so ridiculous. It had you barking out a surprised laugh at his antics.
In your joy, you don’t even realize that Satoru has stopped moving - frozen, smile slipping off his face and staring at you with an unknown spark in his eyes. 
“What?” you question, feeling strangely self-conscious. 
White locks tousling as he shakes his head, he breathes, “It’s the first time I’ve made you laugh.” The words hang in the delicate atmosphere, tension so thick you think it could snap any moment.
You hide your face in your hands, palms clammy. “You- you make me sound like some sort of evil witch.” you stammer out, embarrassment pooling in your gut. The tension in the air dissipates, yet the intensity in Satoru’s gaze remains.
Satoru understands, smiling blindingly. He pulls your naked body to his, wrapping his arms tenderly around your waist as you both bury into the covers. “Well, more of a hardass than an evil witch.”
“Satoru?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“You still have to finish your citations.”
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A/N. Can be read as a standalone BUT part 2 planned for next longfic Sunday!
Plagiarism not authorized.
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mostly-imagines · 8 months ago
Note
Hi!! If you're up to it do you think you could write something about the first time Jason brings his gf to the manor. Like maybe he brings her in but doesn't tell anyone and so everyone is trying to sneak a glimpse of her??
meet the family
jason todd x fem!reader
aka jason has a girlfriend???
warnings: none
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The manor sits full as ever—a cloud of mild boredom sweeping over the Wayne clan.
Dick sits perched on top of an armchair reading a catalog, Stephanie’s splayed out across the couch, Cass is bundled up in blankets atop the ottoman, and Damian leans up against the center table from the floor.
It’s a relatively slow afternoon, until Tim comes bursting into the room, out of breath.
“There’s a girl here!”
Everybody looks at him, disinterest scattered across the room. “There’s a couple of ‘em.” Dick says, flipping through the pages of the magazine.
Tim huffs, “No! In Jason’s room—he has a girl in there!” Eyebrows shoot up at that.
“Now I know you’re lying.” Damian mutters.
Tims head snaps over to Damian. “Dude, go see for yourself. I heard her!”
“You really think Jason would bring a girl here and not even introduce us?” Steph asks, unconvinced.
“Yeah.”
“Yes.”
“Obviously.”
Cassandra nods fervently.
“Okay, yeah. Maybe.” Stephanie mutters. “I bet he’ll introduce me before any of you guys, though.”
Dick barks out a laugh, “You’re nothing short of delusional if you think he’s introducing any of us.”
“We’ll have to take matters into our own hands, then.” Tim says, decidedly.
Damian audibly sighs and rolls his eyes.
“I’m meeting her first.” Steph confirms. “I’ll put money down right now.”
“Meet her or see her?” Cass signs.
“Same thing.” Stephanie shrugs.
Dick shoots up from his seat, “First person to see her gets to be the ring bearer!” He announces, racing out of the room.
Knock knock knock knock knock…
Knock knock.
It takes a good forty seconds, but Jason opens the door, an annoyed frown already on his face.
Dick gives him his brightest smile. It beams of deceit in Jason's eyes. “Hey man. What’cha doing?”
He crosses his arms. “What do you want?”
Dick tries to peer around Jason into the room, but Jason made a point of barely opening the door and his large frame isn’t doing Dick any favors right now.
“Just wanted to say hey…You wanna hang out?”
“No.”
Dick lingers awkwardly. “…Are you sure?”
Jason shuts the door.
A couple minutes later, Tim comes running up the stairs. He opts to skip over the courtesy of knocking and go straight for barging through the door himself. Or he would’ve, if Jason hadn’t seen that coming from a mile away and locked it.
“Fuck off, Tim!” Jason calls from inside the room.
“You lost your right to privacy the second you walked in this house!” He shouts back, hitting his fist against the door.
And Tim swears he can hear a sweet laugh as he trudges away. The authenticity of that claim will be heavily debated downstairs for the next several minutes.
Not even a thirty seconds later, Stephanie comes a knockin’. Jason opens the door wordlessly, patience clearly dissipating more and more.
“Hey, Jason! I can’t find my comm, you wouldn’t happen to have it, would you?”
His face deadpans. “No, Steph.”
Stephanie clicks her tongue, “Can you check?”
He stares at her.
“Actually you’re right, it would be faster if I did.” Stephanie tries to push past him into the room, but Jason, unsurprisingly, doesn’t budge.
“Stephanie.”
“I just want to meet her!” She pleads. “I won’t even tell the others, I’ll just say you wouldn’t let me in either!”
“Bye.” He closes the door.
He doesn’t make it all the way back to the bed before the next knock, singular and short.
Jason snaps the door open again, looking down at Damian with a glare.
Never one to waste any time, “Is there a girl in here?” Damian asks, seeming thoroughly disinterested in the answer.
Jason shuts the door in his face.
Several minutes later, another, quieter knock. Jason’s groan can be heard from outside the room. He pulls open the door once again.
It’s Cass.
She stares at him.
He stares at her.
“Can I say hi to her?” She signs.
Jason sighs. “I’ll pass along the message.”
She smiles and turns back down the hall.
Jason closes and locks the door once again, trudging back over to the bed where you lay. He collapses onto your chest, your arms wrapping around each others bodies immediately.
“Cass says hi.” He mumbles, the sound obscured by his face-down position.
“That message would be a lot more meaningful if I actually knew Cass.”
He groans. “You don’t want to meet them.”
“I do.” You say, running your fingers through his hair. “And I think you do too, or you wouldn’t have brought me to the house where the world's best detectives live.”
“I’m starting to regret it now.”
“Come on. Please?” You plead.
He picks his head up to look at you.
“Are you sure?” He asks with a grimace.
“Absolutely.” You say, topping it off with a kiss on his cheek.
He sighs.
Well. It’s never been within Jason’s skill set to deny you, anyways.
You descend the stairs hand in hand with Jason, his energy mopier than usual. You can hear a gaggle of voices coming from a room ahead, all talking over one another.
“Okay, Tim, you climb up outside the window and—”
“—It’s your plan, you scale the side of the house.”
Jason drops his head and mutters a “Jesus Christ…” as you near the commotion.
You give him a reassuring smile and pat his back as you both move into the doorway.
Everyone’s heads snap to the doorway, eyes wide and waiting.
Jason takes a deep breath like he’s steeling himself for torture. “Guys…This is my girlfriend.”
“Hi.” You smile sweetly, waving to the room.
There’s a moment of still silence before the room erupts.
“Hold on—”
“—my god, she’s so pretty!”
“Oh wow—”
“Wait, what?”
”—You’re real?”
“—didn’t place that bet.”
Stephanie comes scurrying up to you and grabs both of your hands in hers. “Hi, I’m Steph!” She says with a beaming smile. “What’s your name?”
“I’m—”
But the others are right on her tail, crowding around you.
“We didn’t even know Jason had a girlfriend.” Tim says.
“Still not convinced.” Damian mumbles from the back.
Cass waves and signs something to you.
“She says we’re really happy to meet you, which we are.” Dick tells you.
Damian moves closer within the huddle and inspects you closely. You have no idea what he’s inspecting you for. You don’t need to dwell on it for long because Jason pushes his head away from you with mild force making Damian scowl.
Stephanie chimes in, “Did he bring you here to meet us? The others said—”
Jason cuts her off, already knowing exactly where that sentence was going. “I brought her here to show her my old room.”
Dick snickers, “Oh, is that what you were off doing?”
“Watch it.” Your boyfriend warns.
You nudge him with your elbow, be nice.
Tim moves closer to you, narrowing his eyes. “So you’ve like, spent time with him and everything? And you still want to be around him?”
“Okay and you’re done.” Jason takes your hand and leads you out of the room and back down the hallway.
“No wait!”
You’re already out of the room and into another and then another before you can even realize that you’re headed for the front door.
You stop in your tracks, pulling him to a halt as well. “What about—”
Jason shakes his head. “You don’t want to meet him.”
You lower your chin at him, “Jay. Do you want me to meet him?”
He’s silent and doesn’t look like he particularly does.
You sigh, “Okay, do you want him to meet me?”
“I—yeah…” he trails, and you give him your best sweet eyes, the ones that he knows he has no business saying no to. “I…okay. Okay.”
He leads you down another hallway, the sounds of his siblings clambering echoing in the distance. You end up in a room that looks like a never used study, where Jason pushes on one of the walls. It slides open with a bit of force from him, revealing a door with a keypad next to it.
He types a series of numbers into it, and opens it up to a narrow passageway that looks remarkably like a cave.
The passageway leads down to a set of stairs, and you can hear the loud sound of water in the distance.
You’re quite nervous about walking into the Batcave, but you know Jason wouldn’t bring you anywhere near it unless he was sure it would be okay. Okay for you that is, more so than his father.
“Careful. It’s slippery.” Jason holds your hand the whole way down anyway, making sure to linger no more than a step and a half in front of you.
You see Bruce Wayne, sitting at a desk with a large array of computer screens in front of it, and case files scattered all throughout the surface.
He doesn’t acknowledge your entrance, though you have to imagine if Jason got his observation skills from anywhere, it would be him.
As you approach, Jason switches your hands so that his left is holding your left. The result has his figure half covering you, you can only assume partially limiting Bruce’s view of you.
“Bruce.”
Bruce turns his chair around, regarding Jason with a raised chin. The greeting is somehow even more formal than you’d expected.
“Jason.” He readdresses his gaze to you. “Who’s this?”
Jason has a hell of a feeling that Bruce already knows exactly who you are. He’s probably known about you since you started dating. He would’ve had to, to not be pissed as hell that Jason brought a civilian into the cave.
Jason introduces you, his hand reluctantly letting go as you step forward to shake Bruce’s.
Bruce looks surprised, though pleasantly so. He smiles and shakes it kindly.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” He says.
“You too, I’ve heard a lot about you.” You say, smiling.
He laughs, “Oh, I bet.” Looking to Jason, he says, “I can’t say I’ve had the same pleasure, unfortunately.”
Though Jason’s behind you now, you can practically feel him roll his eyes.
“No, I can’t imagine him sharing anything unprovoked.” Bruce smiles widely at that.
He opens his mouth to say something else, but Jason, who’s probably on the brink of losing his mind down here, interrupts.
“Alright. Time to go.” Jason says, grabbing your hand again. He doesn’t give you much time to protest before he’s guiding you by the waist past him and towards the stairs.
You let him nudge you out and call over your shoulder, “It was nice meeting you!”
He’s halfway up the stairs as you exit, only to be stopped by Bruce addressing him again.
“Jason.”
Jason stalls his steps, turning around slowly. You’re out of the cave now, and Jason’s not excited to be alone with his Dad for even a minute. It doesn’t help that he has no idea what he’ll say.
“She’s kind.” Bruce says, simply.
“Yes.”
He tilts his head at Jason, observing him. “You love her?”
Jason looks at the ground. “Yes.”
Bruce nods. “Good.”
He returns to his work at the computers wordlessly, and Jason has to take a moment to realign himself before he climbs the rest of the stairs.
Jason doesn’t particularly seek his fathers approval, nor does he place any definable value on it. However, hearing him give his own version of his blessing to you struck something inside Jason. Something deep in his chest.
He re-enters the study, finding it empty. He walks out into the hallway, where you’re nowhere to be found. Despite being halfway across the house by this point, he can distinctly hear his siblings chattering in the living room. Chattering. And chattering. And chattering…
Oh god, you went back to the living room.
As Jason approaches the conversation becomes clearer.
“—long have you been together, anyways?”
“Well—”
Stephanie gasps suddenly, cutting you off. “Oh wait, you have to meet Alfred!”
“Oh, we’ve already met.” You tell her.
Dick’s head snaps up. “What? When?”
Jason enters the room, draping his arm around your shoulder. “About six months before you met her.”
A chorus of gasps and shouts ring out.
“What?”
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deathbxnny · 1 month ago
Text
Arcane characters saying things they'll regret during an argument with you. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko, Sevika x Gn!Reader
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(Part two)
Because if I can't be happy, then neither can you./j✨️
Content: Alcoholism, spoilers for season 2, heavy angst, toxic behavior, cursing, established romantic relationships, potential mentions of cheating, gaslighting/ manipulation, probably ooc idk, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))
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》VI
You hated the cycle she had trapped herself in. It was never-ending and beyond self-destructive. For a while, you tried to get her out of it by attempting to reason with her, show her the light, tell her that everything is going to be okay and to just stop with the senseless fighting. But then the heavy, out of control drinking began, and she became unrecognizable to you.
She barely spent time with you, and when she did, then it was due to an extreme hangover that you had to nurture her through before the next fight began. You were so sick of it. You couldn't take the state she was in anymore. You wanted your girlfriend back but didn't want to suffer anymore as a result of it. And so, you tried one last time to snap her out of it.
"Hey, uhm... can we talk?" You ask nervously whilst peering at her from the doorway into her room. The roaring of the crowd and indistinguishable words of the announcers buzzed over your heads, reminding you of the timelimit you had to do this right. Vi didn't turn to you and instead focused on smearing the black paint over her eyes, a dark gaze glance cast your way at your meek plea. "Make it quick. I got 10 minutes before I have to be out there again."
You took a deep breath and tried to ignore the coldness in her tone. It was so odd, so not like her. "Vi... I... I need you to stop this. I understand your pain. I really do, I... get it. But this isn't right. You're practically killing yourself here, and I can't take that anymore-" "-This topic again? I told you to fucking drop it already." She hissed with a shake of your head and something about that made you finally snap. "I care about you Vi! That's why I'm doing all of this shit for you. No one else would do as much as I did. Why can't you see that? What the hell happened to you-" Your voice was cut off by her hand slamming into a nearby wall, anger written all over her face that made you flinch away instinctively.
You had never been scared of her before and this just broke your heart further.
"Shut up! You haven't done shit for me, except for pissing me off and whining and crying about every little thing I do! How about you fuck off and leave me the hell alone instead!? The only person who ever did shit for me is Cait and look how that turned out!" Silence. Deafening silence. Except for Vi's heavy breathing. You were rendered speechless. All the years you've spent with her at her side even as children flashed through your mind, before it all stilled and went cold. Your gaze hardened, and you nodded slowly, turning away wordlessly to do as she asked. You understood now. You were always the second choice in the end.
Vi seemed to only notice that you've left once she heard her name being called from the ring above. And her heart sunk at the realisation that this time, you wouldn't be there to watch her win.
And so she didn't.
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》CAITLYN
Zaun was becoming a sensitive and dangerous topic to bring up around her. Even the slightest mention of it made her face harden and earn you a dismissive hand waving all of your protests away. It also didn't help that she was pulling away from you and instead getting closer to a certain red-headed officer of hers. It was frustrating and so exhausting to deal with, on top of all the grief that hung over your heads constantly. It was driving you mad. Nothing you said got through to her.
It wasn't a secret that you disapproved of the war and the alliance with Ambessa. You could look right through her, see with a clear mind that she was up to no good. Whatever she had planned wouldn't bring either nation anything but more plight. This wasn't the right way to go about things. It wasn't humane. The people she hated were no different from you both. But she just couldn't see it the same way, her judgment clouded heavily by her need for revenge on Jinx. A singular person had shifted her perception about a whole group of people... and it was becoming suffocating. You couldn't recognize her anymore.
You were trying to find the right time to finally confront her about it fully, and thankfully, the opportunity came up one evening whilst she was going through paperwork in her office. You were pacing nervously around the room, trying to find the courage to speak your mind, but she beat you to it. "If you have something to say, then say it. I have work to do and can not be disturbed like this." She muttered, eyes focused on the sea of papers before her rather than your stilling form. Very well, she asked for it. "I... want this war to end. This isn't right."
Her hand froze before she hummed and resumed her task. "I thought we had moved on from this topic." She said calmly, not betraying how clearly irritated she was becoming. But you couldn't give up now. You'd go crazy if you did. "Caitlyn. There is no moving on from it if people are going to die as a consequence! How could you ever look away from that? Why can't you see that this is wrong? Why can't you see that Ambessa-" You stepped towards her grand desk with every word, hands coming down to push the paper she was holding away from her face. You just wanted her to finally look at you again after so long. "-Is playing with your mind!" "Enough. Don't you dare say another word."
The Kirammann stood up and towered over you, a strong hand grabbing onto your arm with a sharp shake that surprised you. Had the grief taken over her mind this badly? So much so that she couldn't see how much this was hurting you to lose her? "I demand you see reason and stop sympathizing with those treacherous animals... unless you want me to see you as one of them as well." "You think I'd betray you?" You breathed, and suddenly the realisation that you had lost her for good finally sunk in. You needed to go. Now.
Caitlyn's face sobered up at your question, yet before she could say a thing, her dear officer Nolan stepped in with a report in hand. Seeing the position you two were in, she nervously tilted her head. "Oh, my apologies, am I disturbing you-?" "-Not at all. In fact, I'm the one who's disturbing YOU. My apologies for that." Ripping your arm out of her gloved hand, you pushed past the girl and rushed out of the room.
Your girlfriend watched you disappear down the dark hallway before she straightened up and gave the officer a curt nod to go ahead with her report. But it was hard to listen to a word she was saying when Caitlyn's head was replaying the memory of your teary, heartbroken eyes over and over again.
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》JINX
She didn't care about her life anymore. That was clear as day, and unfortunately, your relationship was suffering because of it. You knew that Silco's death had killed her inside, that his absence left her lost and confused. But you were so desperate to keep her together. So much so that you were practically destroying yourself for her well-being. Eventually, this boiled over when she was beginning to pull away from you. You, who had always been there. You, who she always cringed onto and begged to stay with her. You only had eachother now. It was impossible to think about a life without her now.
The unhinged spark in her eye had faded away and was replaced by an empty shell of what it once was. That scared you more than you'd like to admit. "Jinx... what are you thinking of?" You asked her one night whilst you quietly snuk around the dark lanes of your home. She didn't respond at first, and your eyes were focused on the back of her hooded head, wondering if she even heard you. But you know she had, when she came to a sudden stop. "... I... I think we should part ways, sweetheart. This ain't gonna go over well forever." She said in that hauntingly calm voice you've grown to hate. And you'd be lying if you said that you didn't see this coming.
"But why? We've always been together through everything. This isn't any different-" "-But it is! It's over! Jinx is over!" Facing you, you near flinched at her glowing, violet eyes, heart beating against your chest. She would never hurt you. You knew she wouldn't. And yet... you found yourself ever so slightly stepping away. Maybe that's what set her off in hindsight. "You're gonna leave me like everyone else anyway. Might as well beat ya to it-" "-I would never do that! What has gotten into you? You should know better than to think that-" "-You're scared of me, ain't ya?" You pressed your lips together when you realised that her mental state had gotten much worse than you expected.
She was losing it.
"In fact, I bet you're thinking of me the same way Vi does. You'll be so much happier without me. But... actually... what if you're going to backstab me like her one day?" The look on your face must've been horrific enough to sober her scrambled mind then because even she seemed to be unsure of what she's saying. And yes, you knew she wasn't doing well. You knew she was just saying things without thinking them through. But you were sick of it. So tired of it all. She could practically read your mind.
"W-wait, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I-" "-Okay... you're right. We truly would be better off going our separate ways." You were stepping away from her quicker now, and then you were running, your view becoming blurry and unintelligible. "WAIT NO, PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME, I DIDN'T MEAN IT, I-" Jinx screamed after you, her breathing heavy and uneven, but she didn't go after you. She knew she had lost that right the second she opened her mouth.
You disappeared into the lanes, for the first time ever sprinting away from rather than towards her. And like the Jinx she was, she had screwed up another good thing up for herself. Perhaps deservingly this time.
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》EKKO
Ekko was extremely busy with his duties lately and practically completely neglecting himself for them. It was very concerning to you and everyone, to say the least. Especially now that a war was practically forming at your front door from Piltover. And you were grateful and thankful for all he did for you. You really were. For that reason alone, you wanted him to take things easy at least sometimes to eat and sleep properly when he can. So, on the request of other members, you went to go looking for him one night before it was time for bed. He was sitting up in the tree, clearly planning to keep watch all night, like he usually did.
But you had come with a mission of your own and refused to leave until he came down to bed with you. "Ekko." You hummed as you finally reached him, a friendly smile on your lips. Balancing a nice basket of baked goods you had made yourself, you stepped towards his form that was beautifully illuminated in the moonlight. Seeing him here made you feel content and relieved since you were barely seeing each other to begin with anymore. Which you have been trying to be understanding about.
"I know what you're here for, and the answer is still no." The young man sighed with a shake of his head and frown. You weren't the first one to come by, that's for sure. "Hey... you know this isn't healthy. We're counting on you to stay strong for us, and you can't be that if you're starving yourself." You say with a slight falter to your smile, yet you tried to keep your tone playful and light. He, on the other hand, did not.
"I already told you that it's a no. Now go to bed and let me work." "But I made you these and-" "-I said, no." He hissed out, and that took you aback. He never raised his voice at you, nor did he ever have an attitude with you either. But the stress was getting to him badly, and so was the lack of sleep. "Why can't you just get that? How many times do I have to say it to get it through your thick skull? The least you could do is go and make yourself somewhat useful by patrolling, instead of wasting your time with this."
Oh, how his words cut you deep. Rationally, you knew that everything was just getting too much for him. But it didn't stop you from feeling hurt anyway, as your lip wobbled, and you slammed the basket on a nearby desk before quickly taking your leave wordlessly. Ekko froze at that and reached out to you, your name on the tip of his tongue, but the guilt stopped him from saying a thing.
"Fuck!" He cursed at himself, as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with a disappointed sigh. He definitely was losing it... and you unfortunately had to unfairly take the brunt of it.
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》SEVIKA
"What did I tell you about running off when I tell you to stay put? You could have fucking died out there and then what?" Sevika was angry at you. Not that you could necessarily blame her since you did nearly get killed by an Enforcer earlier. But you had no real choice in this. You swore you didn't mean for this to happen. It was supposed to just be a quick errand run. You wanted to make her something nice for dinner, spoil her a little as a thank you for all the work she was putting into Zaun. Yet you couldn't explain any of this with the way she didn't let you even say a word now from the anger running in her veins. In fact, you had never seen her this enraged before.
"I am sick and tired of you disobeying what I tell you. I can't always be there and save you from everything, you know? I got better things to do and than to babysit you all the time-" "- I'm not asking you to do that either! I'm a grown adult, I can take care of myself!" You yelled back, absolutely angry now yourself at the way she always infantilized you like this. It always the same conversation and argument over and over again. You were so sick of it. You could handle yourself just fine and have proved this before. Yet she was so hellbent on proving you wrong every time, you couldn't take it anymore!
"I'm your partner, Sev. You're supposed to treat me like an equal." "I would, if you weren't so fucking incompetent. If I wasn't there, you would've been dead. Why can't you get that? Should I spell it out for you more? Dumb it down even more?" You hated when she was being like this. It was rare for a reason, and you despised this side of her. The side that was so prideful and egotistical. And you were trying so hard not to stoop to her level. It didn't help that you were a little injured and struggling to stand as is. "I'm not in the mood for this shit, I'm literally bleeding. Can we argue about this later, please? I just wanted to surprise you with something nice for once, and I get that I was wrong, but you don't have to be so mean about it, damn it!"
The tears in your eyes were betraying you, and the embarrassment of that just made you push past her and disappear into your shared bedroom. You'll just deal with the injury yourself. Sevika stared after you in slight surprise, considering it was rare for you to yell back like that and cry at that... but the sight of the flowers and half prepared food on the kitchen counter made the regret finally set in.
Perhaps you were right after all.
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nezuscribe · 2 months ago
Text
(slightly suggestive)
another little drabble for arranged marriage!gojo but imagine a moment before he confessed but something was looming over the two of you. it was crossing the line of friends, not necessarily husband and wife, but two people desperately in love and didn't know how to say it.
you were in one of your late-night frenzies, your brain so muddled with every thought that you decided to do what you knew best: bake.
you often find yourself in this situation as of late, but it truly seems to be the only thing that helps. you wanted to tell gojo how you were feeling, but it was too far in, so you decided something simple and sugary would help you in the moment.
at this point, the walk to the kitchens was something you could do blind, and considering how many times you did this, you already knew where all the ingredients were.
you set out your sugar and flower, and go rummaging in the cold cellar for some butter and eggs. you try not to think about how at dinner gojo slid closer to you, your arms touching as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear. or how a couple days ago he had found you in the library, reading next to a windowsill, cozying up next to you as he read the book over your shoulder.
you're so lost in your head with sifting the ingredients that you fail to realize that the very man himself had come up secretly behind you, curiously watching you in your element.
(he'd never admit that he'd first gone to your room, and only came down here after he realized you were gone).
but, unlike the last couple of times, you'd gotten used to his stealthy ways. he was quiet, sure, but you could recognize him by his slight breath alone, or the way he smelled faintly of cloves.
you try not to let your breathing hitch, or let a smile grow on your face as you decide to break the silence.
"if you try to scare me while i'm baking you better rethink your choices," you warn him and hear gojo snicker quietly behind you.
gojo moves from where he was standing, and he leans his back against the counter next to you, craning his neck to look over at your bowl.
your eyes dart to the side, to the way his arms are resting behind him as he balances himself back on them (or the way his arms bulge and veins pop).
"what's on your mind tonight?" gojo asks, knowing you only do this now whenever you're stressed out.
"not much," you mutter, despite wanting to say you, you're on my mind.
he tsks, not buying your lie as he leans in a little close, his head blocking your view of your mixing bowl as he tries to get a little taste with his fingers.
"hey!" you cry, smacking him lightly on the back of his neck, "your hands are all grimy!"
you watch as he peers at you from the corner of his eyes, glaring at your offensive remark as he retracts away, a small pout on his face as you grin in slight victory.
"my hands are clean," you hear him mumble petulantly and you chuckle, rolling your eyes at his antics. the closer the two of you got, the more you found out that his closed-off and aloof demeanor was just a facade for a dramatic, grouchy man-child.
there's a comfortable silence for a moment, one where you're mixing and one where he watches you mix. you don't really notice the quiet anymore, just another added sound when you and gojo grow more comfortable together.
"how was your day?" he finally asks, a simple question, but you know he's using it as a mask to find out what was wrong with you.
"good," you say with a shrug, starting to gently fold in your wet mixture with your dry one, "you weren't at dinner so i was actually able to eat in peace," you add, trying to sound indifferent when really it's what spurred this entire thing on. how, when you realized that you missed seeing him, talking to him, being near him, you were really, really, missing him. and that's not how friends are supposed to act. or, at least, from what you've heard.
gojo smiles, a soft look on his face. you're trying to be sarcastic, he knows that, but there's something...deeper behind your words, something that he too feels.
"the eastern tribe took up more time than i thought they would," he explains, his blue eyes glowing when he notices the way you slightly relax, "i tried telling them that my wife was waiting for me, but apparently peace negotiations can't be postponed."
you bite your lips, trying to hold back your giddy smile at his words. you know he's probably teasing you, using the phrase my wife as a way to get out of a boring meeting, but you love it nonetheless.
he knows you do.
"those bastards," you murmur teasingly, hearing his loud laugh as he lightly shoves you with the point of his boot.
"yeah, well, they don't have wives back home," he crosses his arms over his chest, pressing his lips into a thin line, "so they don't know the feeling."
you swallow thickly, not looking over at him when he says that.
there's another silence as you continue to fold the batter, sensing that same feeling wash over the two of you.
"let me grab a..." you turn around, head craning to look for a spoon to dip in the batter, needing to make sure the sweetness wasn't too overbearing (and because you liked tasting the batter before it was sent off to be baked thoroughly), but stop when gojo pulls the bowl in closer to him.
you watch as he glides his finger across the sides, not letting it touch the actual bulk of the mixture, and brings it forth towards your lips.
his brows cock upwards, as if he was waiting for you to try it.
you give him a look, nose slightly wrinkled.
"i swear my hands are clean," he promises, crossing one hand over his chest as a sort of pledge, but that's not what holding you back, shouldn't he know that?
your mind is working to beat the thrill of your heart, the one that's pulling you towards him like a magnet, the one that desperately wants to have his finger in your mouth.
you bite your cheek for a second, eyes flickering up from his to his finger, and some sort of heat in you takes control as one hand gently grabs his wrist, pulling his hand closer to your parted lips.
your tongue darts out, your mouth closing over the digit as you taste the sugary batter coating your tongue. you feel dizzy, your stomach twisting, a heat taking over your body as your tongue swipes over it, licking it clean.
it's nothing overexaggerated, nothing too crazy. you lick his finger the way you'd like your own, but fuck, this isn't your own finger and gojo's looking at you with his pupils blown wide, the blacks overtaking the blue in his eyes.
your hand is still holding his wrist, your lips gliding over it as you pull away, breathing slightly less when you glance up at him.
gojo swallows thickly, hoping you don't see the bulge that's growing in his pants.
"good?" he chokes out, his voice thick in his throat.
"yeah," you mutter, the batter still lingering on your tastebuds, "it's perfect."
fuck, you're both screwed.
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neverendingford · 11 months ago
Text
.
#m afraid of things#surely there's no other aspects here at all at play#they always either jump on the depression or the anxiety train and they ride it into the sunset#and I“m sitting here like yeah sure explain this to me not like I've heard it before not like I”ve read fucking academic papers about it#therapists sitting at their desk typing with a single finger going “today I taught the patient that her anxiety is anxiety”#congrats I'm glad you're getting paid for this I'm not getting anything out of it though#also a half hour isn't long enough to talk about fucking alnything at all#an hour is barely enough time to explore a topic with any sort of thoroughness so a half hour? miss me with that shit#I'm over here like “hey I've never wanted to fuck someone more than twice and I move friend groups like I��m playing musical chairs#and I block five year friends with no emotional hesitation at all. maybe there's something wrong?#and the therapist perks up like “oooo maybe it's anxiety? or it might be your depression but it's anxiety I think”#if I had an autism diagnosis they would be just substituting the word anxiety for the word autism#useless useless useless#I know how to fix most of my problems I#m here to learn calculus cause I've already learned algebra don't fucking try and teach me arithmetic#ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm so annoyed#“wow you type so fast” yeah yeah can we get back to talking about things?#was gonna talk about the year it's been since I tried to kill myself and she's like “now I know talking about your feelings can be scary”#I'm not fuc king scared of being open I'm usedto being open and easily read stop projecting and assuming ughhh hh foaming at the mouth rn#if anything it's a problem that talking about emotions isn't scary cause I'm so fucking detached from them they're happening to someone els#someone else not me it's not me who feels emotions its whoever else is in here I'm at the keyboard but I can't see the screen#life is just co-op gaming with myself and we share functions and we're so in sync we don't recognize the other as separate usually#but he's got the emotions today actually that's not true I've got the rage I've got the anger I'm going into self defense mode I can feel i#I#tag talk#vent#iteration- *checks notes* 5 of feeling smarter than the therapist I got assigned#today we spend thirty minutes going over how anxiety is actually a kind of fear. wow so amazing and cool#I'm really learning so much here about how Im here because I recognize I have patterns of behavior that I can't find the root cause of#Im going to leave before I just start ranting. anyway. I'm annoyed nobody fucking understands us when we're talking
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nochepsicodelica · 4 months ago
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NSFW
Toji calls you pup or puppy sometimes and you've always thought that maybe it had something to do with you being so playful and energetic at times, but those were always just your assumptions. Not a single one of those assumptions was confirmed by Toji, so you took it upon yourself to ask for the truth...
"Toji?" You call, looking up at him from where you sit on his lap.
"Hm?" He hums in response, looking away from the commercial on the TV and down at you.
"Why do you call me pup? Don't get me wrong, it's cute." You smile, feeling the warmth of the seemingly endearing name in your stomach. "But, I wanna know why."
"Mm... do you really wanna know?" You nod, bubbly giggles erupting from your chest in anticipation. You're so excited for this reveal. It's been a mystery for months. "Well, it's because you let out these high pitched, little whimpers, that sound like a puppy when I touch you, sometimes."
Glass shattered. Illusion crumbled.
Your face immediately heats up. "No... No! Really?!" You groan, shifting to lay back in his arms while covering your face in embarrassment.
"Don't be embarrassed, baby. It's cute. You're a sensitive little thing." His hand comes forward to rub your tummy over your shirt.
You huff, an audible hum of annoyance sounding out. "Well, I'm never gonna do it again. I'm just gonna stop. I'm done. Never again."
"You wanna test that out?" He asks, mischievous eyes watching your pouty expression. You nod, accepting the challenge. "Sit on my lap properly, like you were before." You shift back and sit up straight against his chest. He pulls your hands away from your lap. "Keep these here, and don't move them. Understand?" he asks, placing your hands on his thighs. You nod, again, and grip onto them.
His left hand snakes up your shirt, his fingertips teasing the skin of your stomach until goosebumps rise. It goes further up once the goosebumps have spread all over, sliding beneath the cup of your bra to rub your already pebbled nipple. So far you've only let out a couple sighs, so he adds in his other hand. It slips into the front of your shorts and beneath your panties, until his fingers make contact with your slicked up slit.
"Already so wet for me, mama. What happened?"
"It's always like this for you," you say, quietly, suppressing the urge to whimper as the pads of his middle and ring fingers rub your clit in such a tediously, slow manner. Your hands part from his thighs and attempt to grab onto his forearms, causing him to immediately pause the movement of the hand that plays with your nipples as well as the one in your pants.
"Hey." His tone is questioning of your actions, but there's the touch of a smirk on his face, like he knew you'd need more than gripping his thighs to keep you from folding so quickly.
"S-Sorry. I'm sorry."
He presses a chaste kiss to your temple. "Let's try that again."
Soon enough, those little breaths you released through your nose, became small, quiet whimpers, that you didn't think Toji would hear. He had to correct you so many times about the way you were sliding down his front. Eventually he decided to lift your bra entirely and just wrap his arm around your chest to hold you steady because of how much you were squirming.
"Toji, I'm gonna..." A louder whimper comes out, effectively bringing a victorious smirk onto Toji's face. He heard those quieter ones, but he didn't count them for your sake. You're his baby, after all.
He speeds up the movement of his fingers, his rough pads adding delicious friction to your sensitive clit. You tense in his hold when your orgasm hits, plenty of moans and those pet name earning whimpers, flooding out.
"There you go, puppy," he purrs, into your neck, slowing his strokes to not overstimulate you so fast. You grab onto the arm that's secured at your chest, your nails digging into his skin through the pleasure. He doesn't stop because you've already proven his point and he sees no reason to punish you anymore.
A few seconds pass and those whimpers return, accompanied by your thighs shutting around his hand. You curl up a little, holding on tight to his arm.
"Had enough?" He asks, stilling his hand between your legs.
"Mhm, no more," you mumble, sounding defeated after thinking back to the sounds you made and how this backfired entirely.
He pulls his hands out from your clothes and wraps his arms around you. "So pup and puppy are fair game?"
You sigh, and reluctantly nod.
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babyboy555777 · 12 days ago
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Overheard
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Summary: Rafe over hears you and Sarah talking about your night at the beach with a hookup.
CW: possessive Rafe, rough sex, name calling, unprotected sex (wrap before tap), bit of choking and hair pulling, forced to stay quiet, mirror sex. (Should be it)
(Did not proofread bc this took me so long already.)
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You and Sarah had been friends for years. You moved to Outer Banks as a child and took quite a liking to Sarah and her family. You were always known to drop in whenever you felt needed. You shared many nights at their house and basically became a part of the family.
On this specific day it was like any other. You hopped in your jeep and quickly sped off to Tannyhill. Soon arriving in the circle driveway of the mansion you quickly got out and headed to the door knocking loud, so you were heard.
The door was swung open by none other than the snarky stuck-up brother of your best friend, Rafe Cameron. “You don’t have to knock.” He sighed “you basically live here anyway.” He scolded you. You pushed past him and into the entrance way of the house.
“Where’s Sarah?” Rafe shut the door and then pointed up the stairs to her room. “Where she always is waiting for you.” You nodded your head at him giving him one last look before making your way up to her room. He watched as you quickly sprinted up the stairs. Watching as your hips moved and how your ass was in perfect view.
He shook his head relieving the thought of you knowing how wrong it was. Soon he made his way up the stairs as well to his own room that was until he heard you talking in a not so quiet voice to his sister.
"I wouldn't say it was awful, just not what I wanted." Sarah cocked a brow to you. "Well, what did you want. I mean you wanted to have sex with him, right? What more could you want. You practically begged me for his number." She chuckled.
"Yes, I did." Rafe moved closer to the crack in the door leaning his ear closer. He listened closely to your words. "What does she mean" he thought to himself.
Yes, Rafe knew you, but he thought he knew you well enough. He never saw you as the type to beg for sex with someone, or much less really want it.
In his head you always were the type to never come off as sexual but definitely not innocent. He truly just thought that in this world full of sex you had no idea what you were doing or had any care for it, and he was so wrong.
"Okay yes I wanted it. Like the party last week, I wanted to just be dragged off with him somewhere because I thought he'd fuck the shit out of me. See that's what I wanted." You crossed your arms and huffed.
"Okay, then what happened that you didn't like? Was it the fact it was on the beach or like what?"
"I guess the best way I could put it is I wanted it to me more filled with lust and desire. I wanted it to be rough and I wanted to not be able to walk today." You chuckled along with Sarah.
"Well how did it go for you?" You sighed trying to think back to last night. "Well, he took me out on the beach, and he had a blanket with him. Talking happens and whatever and I end up straddling his lap."
Sarah nodded her head waiting for you to continue, but Rafe stood out the door as he held his breath. He was pissed. You fucking some other man and he didn't even do it right pissed him off more. But he stayed quiet.
"We made out a bit and I started to grind on him a bit. Obviously, he got a rise up, so I got all cocky and pulled his dick out. After a few moments of me just doing my thing, I pulled my bikini bottoms off and rode him. He was like..." You paused trying to find your words.
"It was like he never wanted it to end and not saying I don't like that, but I asked if he could get on top and we'd go faster he just straight up refused. Which basically dried me up and I didn't even want to do it anymore."
Sarah tried to hold back her laughter. "Hey, it's not funny I'm being dead serious." You smacked her arm but laughed as well.
Rafe was the only one not laughing. Red filled his face with anger, and he scoffed at your words. "Didn't even fuck her the way she wanted. What a pussy." He thought.
"Well maybe you'll find someone who just rocks your world." Sarah smirked. "Yeah, as if." But only if you knew what little plan Rafe had planted into his mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That same day you had planned on staying the night with Sarah. Of course, to everyone in the house it was no surprise. It was now late at night and Sarah was asleep. However, you sat awake in her bed scrolling mindlessly on your phone till a text popped up.
"Come here."
You read the text from Rafe. Confusion spread across your face. You texted back.
"Sarahs asleep. Where are you?"
"My room. Just come here you won't wake her, she's a heavy sleeper."
You sighed and turned off your phone placing it on the nightstand beside you. Slowly you rose up from the bed making your way to the bedroom door making sure to stay as quiet as possible.
You looked back at Sarah one last time before closing the door. You slowly tiptoed your way down the hall to Rafe's room. You raised your hand to the door knocking slow and quiet. Soon Rafe opened up the door nodding his head telling you to come in.
As you walked in you looked around the room that was dimly lit by the small lamp setting you realized you had never seen Rafe's room before. "I have never been in here." You turn back and look at him leaning up against the door. "Cleaner than I thought." You chuckled.
He shrugged. "Don't know why you'd ever think that. I believe I come off as a clean person." He paused. "Unlike you." You looked at him confused for a moment as he stepped closer to you, his rich cologne filled your nostrils.
"I heard you. Talking to my sister earlier today." He walked behind you. "How you wanted to be fucked hard." He leaned in closer to your ear whispering. "How you want it to be filled with lust and desire."
His words sent chills down your spine and your own words choked up. "So, fucking dirty and here I was thinking you didn't care about these things." His hands slowly made their way to your hips giving a slight squeez.
"Rafe..." You spoke barley above a whisper. He smirked against your neck placing a small kiss right below your ear. "Is that what you want? To be fucked like the whore you are?"
Your legs squeez together trying to release some of the tension that was building up. You let out a shaky breath as one of his hands trail down to the waistband of your sleep shorts.
"Is this what you want?" He whispered. You nodded your head squeezing your eyes shut as he played with the waist band. "Words."
"Yes, I want this." He slid his hands down your shorts. Two of his fingers rubbed against your folds. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. He rubbed circles around your clit as your hips moved forward chasing his touch.
You let out a small moan and immediately Rafe slaps his hand onto your mouth. "What you want the whole house to hear? As much as I'd love to hear your pretty little moans you need to keep quiet."
You nodded your head frantically. "Good girl." Rafe then removes his hand from you making you whine at his loss of touch. He stepped back from you grabbing your hand and leading you to the bed. He pushed you down on the bed and you let out a gasp.
He crawled on top of you and basically ripped off your clothes and his throwing them on the floor. Rafe started to kiss your neck earning a small gasp to leave your lips.
"Rafe please..." you whine out. "What do you want?" He smirked against your neck. The words couldn't seem to leave your lips as he left a bite on your sweet spot right below your ear.
"Don't go quiet on me now." He rose up to look at you. "Tell me what you want." You started to bite your lip at the sight of him. The sly smirk planted across his face. His shoulder muscles showing more featured as he held himself up.
"Fuck me Rafe...." As soon as the words slipped from your lips it felt like sweet honey on his tongue. He spread your legs open, and you wrapped them around his waist trying to pull him in.
"So needy?" He chuckled making you want him even more. "Rafe..." You breathed out. "Words sweetheart." He smirked once again. "Rafe please fuck me." Your wish was his command.
He lined himself up to you and without warning slammed into you making you let out a loud cry. He quickly slapped his hand over your mouth. "Shut the fuck up." He groaned out.
Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he thrusted into your cunt hard and fast. "You feel so fucking good. Holy shit." His words were breathless as if he blurted them out of pure pleasure.
His hand still planted on your mouth as the other held your waist tightly. You threw your head back at all the new pleasure rising in you. Rafe looked down at you smirking at the absolute complete mess you were in this moment.
"You like how I fuck you. I bet that pussy boy could never be like this with you." You moaned against his hand as the words leaped off his tongue.
As Rafe pounded into you harder and faster the headboard started to move. He let go of your waist grabbing the board holding himself up as he stayed covering your mouth. You watched his muscles tensed and sweat glistened on his body.
All the pleasure plus the view of him really added onto you forgetting about your shitty hookup. "Fuck..." He groaned out throwing his head back and closing his eyes.
In an instant Rafe grabbed you off the bed still fucking you and took you into the big bathroom inside his bedroom. He turned you around facing the mirror. "I want you to see that pretty little face when you cum for me. A face you'll never see without me fucking you like this."
He held your mouth again making you look at the beautiful mess you were in the mirror. Him pounding in and out of you. Your breast bouncing. Him making direct eye contact with you through the mirror itself.
Muffed moans and him slapping his thighs against your ass echoed through the tile walls. As you could feel your peak approaching you closed your eyes. "No." In one swift move he wrapped his hands around the back of your hair forcing your eyes open to see yourself.
He smirked as he watched you bite your lip holding back you loud beautiful moans. With a few sloppier thrust Rafe was chasing his own high. Throwing his head back as he pounded into you. "Fuck me." He groaned out.
Your high had reached his peak biting your lip so hard blood started to form. Rafe grabbed you pulling you against your chest holding your neck. "Come on baby." He whispered in your ear making you crash.
Your legs started to shake and the image of you two in the mirror was all too much to handle. Rafe started to come down from his own high. His thrust and movements slowing down as his hot liquid shot inside you.
Rafe turned your head towards his planting a sloppy wet kiss on your lips and he pulled out of you. Rafe pulled away, and you both panted for air more than ever. "That's how you should be fucked." A smirk planted across his lips.
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chuluoyi · 5 months ago
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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 08:12 A.M 」
based on a suggestion! a bit short and i ran out of gojo headers :') i think i've used all them up...
a part of gojo's love entries
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“why me not here?”
on one fine morning, your three-year-old son, perched on satoru’s lap, pointed at one picture during your wedding day in the album and dropped the question curiously.
“hmm, why, you ask?” satoru’s lips curled into a wicked grin. “heh. that’s because you weren’t invited. booo.”
your toddler son turned to him with wide eyes as if betrayed, shocked. “...why?”
“we ran out of invitations for you, kiddo. sorry~”
“...” your son, all with his white hair and blue eyes, looked conflicted for one minute straight, before his eyes went glassy. the very sight got satoru almost crack up.
“hey minion, don’t fry your brain over it,” he chuckled, pinching both his cheeks.
his pumpkin merely glared back at him before focusing back on the album. “evil papa!” he accused, pursing his lips into a huge pout. “what papa and mama do...?”
satoru glanced at the picture of you in your traditional kimono, smile forming in his face. “well, i married mama then.”
“what is marry?”
hmm, now that was unexpected. “well...”
“why marry?”
pressed for a decent answer but failed to find any, he blurted the first thing that popped up in his mind. “to... produce you, of course.”
“huh...?” your boy's eyes positively lit with total confusion, staring back at him with so much incredulousness.
“well, simply because it’s wrong to produce you if we are not married~”
“...” your baby son didn't understand, that much is clear with the frown in his little face, and satoru really thought he would question him further until—
“mamaaa!” he bolted out of his grasp and ran to find you. satoru immediately followed him suit in half-panic.
meanwhile, you were about to check out your cart in the online shopping platform in the living room when your son crashed himself to you. “oh my god, what did papa do to you this time?” you caught him and pulled him to your lap, somewhat surprised that his eyes welled with tears.
“papa, bad!”
“yes baby, we know that already.”
“papa said... papa and mama marry to produce!”
your eyes widened in surprise when you heard your innocent baby, and you immediately shot an irked glance at your stupid husband as he approached both of you with a snarky smile.
“he always tells on me, hmph,” he puckered his lips in defiance. “what i told him is true though, i have to marry you first to put him in the oven, no?”
you couldn't believe what he said in front of your three-year old, and were about to sentence his punishment when he suddenly pressed an index finger to your lips, silencing you.
“no, no! you can’t couch me tonight! why? because i’m paying for your cart!”
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lymtw · 5 months ago
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The frustration that Satoru feels when he completely stops seeing you as just one of his best friends.
You’re so pretty, modeling the dress you’ll be wearing on your date with some guy who probably dims in comparison to you. Suguru says you should try the outfit without the cardigan, so you take it off for a second and do a little 360 for the trio. Shoko gasps when she sees the lacy details that were hidden by the coat and Suguru claps in validation. “You’re so gonna get some.”
Satoru just watches, cheek resting in his fist as he half listens to the little debate between Shoko and Suguru. It’s all a blur as he focuses on the one glowing in front of him.
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“Satoru?” You wave your hand in front of him.
“Hm?” He blinks up at you, acting like he wasn't zoned out while staring.
“Tie-breaker. Coat or no coat?”
He had heard what Suguru said when you took the cardigan off. 'You’re so gonna get some.'
He doesn’t want that.
“You should stay layered. You might get cold later.”
Suguru groans in disapproval, falling back into the couch cushion, while Shoko grins, smugly, at her small victory.
“Coat it is.” You smile, running back to the bathroom to finish getting ready.
“You like her, huh?” Suguru asks as soon as you’re out of sight, a squint of betrayal in his eyes.
“Pfft, nah. What makes you think that?” Satoru defends.
“She asked for our opinion on the dress and you went silent," Shoko says, throwing a knowing smirk at Satoru.
“You don’t want her to get laid or something? Why’d you vote for the granny cardigan?” Suguru adds, arms crossed over his chest.
“I want to see you take care of her when she’s sick. I did it last time, and she was unbearable. Also,” he turns to answer Shoko’s remark, “what can I say? I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“A lot of her on your mind.” Suguru nods over at you.
Satoru turns, a lucent gleam in his eyes when he sees you.
“Alright, guys. I’ll be back before-“
“Don’t rush!” Shoko says, giggling at the dopey look on Satoru’s face.
There’s a smirk tugging on Suguru’s lips. “Have fun.”
“Call if you need me to pick you up," Satoru blurts, sitting up straight on the lounge chair he was seated in.
Shoko gasps and Suguru’s eyes go wide for a second.
“Uh... sure. Will do. Love you guys, bye!” You walk past your friends, opening the front door and shutting it behind you.
Your perfume had some effect on Satoru because for some reason his heart was racing and he was unable to calm it down.
“What?” Satoru asks when he notices the way his friends look at him. “I’m the only one with a car here.”
“Uh-huh, let’s put it that way," Shoko says, sharing a menacing look with Suguru.
You did end up having to call Satoru. Your date was the most annoying, insufferable person you had ever met and you weren't going to pretend like you were enjoying your time with him for the rest of the night. How can someone be so different the moment you’re alone together? You couldn’t stand him, so you excused yourself from the table and went to the restroom halfway through your meal.
You called Satoru, hoping he wasn't kidding about calling him if you needed a ride home.
“Hey, uh, I know this is really inconsiderate of me, but can you come pick me up from the restaurant? If you can’t it’s totally fine. I’ll stay.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I'm fine. It turns out I can’t stand this guy.” You chuckle, your hand reaching for the sensor beneath the water faucet, the cool water running through your fingers. "He's gross and just... I don't know."
“Did he do anything to you? Are you okay? ‘Cause, you know, I can kick his ass.”
“You already asked me that, 'toru. I’m okay. He’s just…” you pause, a sigh filling in the silence, “...different from what I remember. I don’t know this guy.”
Satoru is already sitting in his car. The moment you asked him to pick you up, he grabbed his keys and headed for the car.
“Give me ten minutes.”
“It takes twenty to get here.”
“Too bad. I’m running a few red lights. Sit tight.”
“Sa-”
The call ends and you’re left staring at the contact photo you have for him. You turn your screen off and stare into the mirror. You don’t know if you should stay in the bathroom until Satoru gets there or if you should go back out to the man waiting for you.
“So, Satoru likes her, huh?” Shoko says, leaning back in the lounge chair Satoru sat in before.
“Who would have guessed? We’ve all been friends for years and he’s never looked at her like that.”
“We should invest in some noise cancelling headphones. Who knows what could happen after tonight?”
Suguru furrows his eyebrows in confusion, so Shoko grins and demonstrates. She rocks back and forth in the old lounge chair, the chair creaking and squealing.
“Oh.” Suguru’s face further scrunches. He didn't need the image of his friends doing that together, in his mind.
Your phone vibrates on the sink, and Satoru’s name appears on the screen when you flip it. You quickly answer the call.
“Hey, i’m outside.”
“How do I walk out of here without seeming like a bitch? I didn’t think this through.”
“First, walk out the restaurant doors. Then, get in my car. It’s pretty simple, honestly.”
“We haven’t paid the bill.”
“Fuck it. Let him pay.”
“That’s just wrong. Alright, i’ll be out in a bit. Bye.”
“Bye.”
You sum up all the courage you have and walk out of the bathroom. Once you reach the table, you pull out some cash you have just laying around in your purse, like forty-something bucks, and set it down in the middle of the table.
“Hopefully that’s enough to cover half of it.”
“Where are you going?” Your date asks.
“To keep it polite, I have to go. Have a good rest of your night.”
You walked out of the restaurant, immediately spotting Satoru’s blue Camaro.
The second you get in, you make yourself comfortable, removing your heels and taking down your hair from its updo.
“What’s wrong?” Satoru asks, when you don’t say anything.
“It’s fine. This guy just wasn’t the one.”
Satoru’s chest feels tight now that you’re in the car. The smell of your perfume has returned and you’re glowing in the moonlight. It makes him think of the effort you put into looking the way you do, and how you ended up having to hide in the bathroom.
“Do you wanna go home?”
You’re looking in the sun visor mirror, bobby pins in your mouth as you fix your hair so that it’s not in your face once Satoru starts driving.
“Mm… whatever you want to do,” you say, muffled by the pieces of metal pressing into your lips.
It wouldn’t be whatever he wants to do, though. All he wants to do is kiss you, right now. Do something to soothe the ache you must be feeling.
“Why are you acting like this?” He asks, watching you as you place another pin in your hair.
You laugh through your nose, a bobby pin still between your lips. You put it in your hair before answering.
“Like what?” You look at him while you put your seatbelt on.
“Like this doesn't bother you. You don't have to put up a front, you know? I'm not gonna laugh at you."
The metal clicks, and you fold the sun visor back up. “Because it didn’t bother me. I’m not gonna settle for someone I hate being around."
Part of Satoru wanted this to go well for you. He wanted to see a brilliant smile on your face when you got home. So, the fact that it didn’t end up that way strangely caused some heartache for him.
“Don’t look so down.” You give him a kind smile and pinch his cheek. “I’m okay. Really.”
He tries to distract himself from the warmth that seeps into his cheeks from your quick gesture. “Well, I don’t want to go home. Is that okay, with you?”
“What’s up with you?” You ask, bringing one of your legs up and folding it comfortably on the seat.
“Nothing.”
You stare at him until he breaks out his contagious smile and laugh.
“Really, nothing. I just want to spend some time out tonight. Shoko and Suguru want to stay home and be couch potatoes."
You see your date walking out of the restaurant, phone against his ear. He doesn’t look too defeated, but you don’t want him to see you with Satoru and make any bold assumptions.
“Okay, that’s totally fine, but can we go?” Your leg goes back down, meeting the floor mat and you turn to face the window.
Satoru analyzes your behavior and your expression. Your arms are crossed, you refuse to look in his direction again. It’s weird compared to how you were acting two seconds ago.
“What?” Satoru turns to look at whatever made you shrink, and as soon as he sees him he rolls his window up. “Really?” His eyes are lidded in disappointment. It’s not in you as a person, but in your lack of respect for yourself, choosing someone so far below your league.
“He was nice when I first met him.”
Satoru puts the gear in reverse, backing out of the parking spot. “He looks stupid and on top of that he acts like it, too? God.”
“I know, I know.” You lean against the car door and stare out the window.
“What made you think you deserved him? Honestly, I can’t wrap my head around how low this is for someone like you.”
“I don’t know.”
Your responses to Satoru's interrogation kept getting shorter and shorter and he realized he was beating a horse that was already down.
“You know I care," he mumbles, breaking the heavy silence. “I don’t mean to tell you who to date and who you should be with.”
“I hate this conversation. You’re not my dad, Satoru. It’s fine.” You sit up, back against the seat and face forward. “Where are we, anyway?”
“I just followed a random road to see where it would lead. I don’t wanna go home, but I also don’t want to know where I am.”
“So, we’re lost.” You laugh.
“Hey, as long as we have phones with enough battery, we’re not really lost.”
“Right.” You grin, continuing to watch the road. You look over the steering wheel to see how much gas the car has. It’s two marks below the bold F.
“Can you tell me something?”
You turn to Satoru, giving him your full attention. He’s been more serious than you know him to be since you left the house.
“What’s up?”
“I’m not trying to rehash this father-like conversation, but as one of your best friends… what were you thinking when you accepted a date with this guy?” He glances over at you for a second. “What went through your mind when you said 'yes' to a date with him?”
“Potential love, dates, butterflies. All the stuff that goes into getting to know someone as more than an acquaintance or friend.” You fidget with the extra hair tie on your wrist.
“You want all of that?” He asks, glimpsing at you again.
You nod, silently.
“You’re pretty enough to fuck around with whoever you want, you know? I know some people who wanna do some pretty... vulgar things with you."
Your eyes go wide at how far south the conversation went. You cracked the second you looked at Satoru though. He looked somewhat proud to be friends with someone who could get some anytime.
“That’s… good to know, I guess.” Your mind stumbles over the part where he called you pretty enough.
“You’re not interested in that, though, are you?”
You wince, jokingly. “It’s just not my cup of tea. I want something more long-term.”
Satoru grins, almost like he wants to talk about himself.
“That’s not your cup of tea, is it?” You reciprocate the grin.
“No, no. Believe it or not, the last relationship I was in lasted a whole two months.”
You slapped the car door dramatically. “A whole two months?!”
“Stop it. It’s nothing, really," Satoru jokes, grinning with faux pride.
“Hey, i’m not shaming you. You’re not down with commitment and that’s fine. We're young. There's no need to rush."
“I haven’t found someone I really want to commit to. I'm not stupid enough to ignore the fact that people are really only attracted to my body. They can't stand when I open my mouth, so I figured it’s better to fuck around than to put my heart into something that won’t last without sex.”
Satoru's personality was for people with acquired taste. On the other hand, Satoru's physical appearance was for anyone and everyone. The people who could appreciate all of him would be in for the most amazing ride, because even as his friend, you could confidently say that there is no one like him anywhere in the world. You can only hum in acknowledgement of how romantically lonely he must feel.
“What?” You ask when the car stops. Satoru puts the car in park before turning it off. “We’re not out of gas, so what’s the problem?”
He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to face you, one leg bent on the seat. He’s met with a breathtaking sight. You look stunning in that navy blue dress, and that shade smeared over your lips was calling his name. He can see part of your thigh from where your dress rides up.
“Can I talk to you about something?” The tension behind the question was enough to make your ears go red.
“Of course you can. You’re scaring me, but go on.”
He smiles, trying to lighten up the mood. He knows better than to just dump information like this on you so heavily, but he can't go home tonight without telling you how he feels. He already doesn’t expect much to come of telling you this, but it's been eating him alive and he can't keep it in anymore.
“You've been on my mind a lot, lately." He sees your slightly furrowed eyebrows. They match the unintentional pout on your lips. You’re confused and for some reason you feel nervous, like your heart might escape your ribcage.
“What does that mean?” You ask, wanting a clearer understanding. He could be worried about you in a totally platonic way. He could be wondering about what you've been up to lately. You're having trouble assuming there's romantic notes to his statement after the brief discussion you just had.
“It's exactly as it sounds. I've been thinking about you." He's not smiling, he's not laughing yet this still sounds like a joke that he’s running to mess with you.
“You done with your jokes? We could both be home right about now," you say, not intending for your words to come out as sharp as they did. His hand is suddenly cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away a speck of glitter from it.
“You say goodnight to me in the sweetest way—like you won't see me in the morning. And the soft smile you give me before you shut the door... it lingers in my mind. I dream of it from time to time."
You're trying so hard not to lean into his touch and nuzzle your cheek into his palm, but you make no effort to push his hand away. “What are you talking about, Satoru? Don't you think you're reading into it a little too much? I do that for all three of you. Ask Shoko and Suguru.”
His hand has been on your cheek for a while now, and he’s still looking at you like he has things to get off his chest. “I know you don't say it the same way to them as you do to me." He stops, a little sigh leaving him. He’s probably making you dizzy with all of this news, based on the look on your face. He retracts his hand and rests it on his thigh. You look stunned, so he cuts to the chase. “To be even more clear, I don’t see you as a friend. It doesn’t seem right to see you that way when I can picture us doing more. Being more."
“Doing more?” You repeat, cheeks growing warm.
“Holding hands, kissing, being alone together—more.”
The heavy silence returns, both of you nervously avoiding eye contact.
“I..." you huff. "I need some air.” You unbuckle yourself before exiting the car. Your scent remains in the car even after the door shuts behind you, leaving Satoru to wonder if things are screwed with you.
Your back is against the door, your hands interlocked in front of your eyes, shielding you from the gentle moonlight. You groan, irritated by the conflicted thoughts that came with Satoru's revelation.
It’s not long before Satoru comes out and joins you, leaning on the side of his car. It's cold and he doesn't want you to get sick again. His heart could barely handle your involuntarily weak display the first time.
“I didn’t stress you out, did I?” He asks, turning his head to look at you. You shake your head, your hands still covering your eyes. “There’s really no part of you that can envision an us between me and you?”
You chuckle, a sound that makes his heart pang. “It’s funny... you know, a long time ago it was all I dreamed about.”
Now this was baffling news to Satoru. How long ago was a long time ago? A couple months ago? Last year? Three years ago? And why didn’t you say anything?
“I considered you a pursuit that was out of reach. You had—have— all these girls just throwing themselves at you, and I couldn’t be one of them, so I befriended you instead.”
“How long ago was a long time ago?” He asks, nervous to hear the answer.
“Like last year in March. It was during your phase where you would never come home.”
He feels like an asshole. Especially since not too much later, he developed similar feelings for you that he endlessly denied.
“You liked the me you never got to see?”
You both chuckled at the rhyme of his words, your broken senses of humor adding some lightheartedness to the conversation.
“I guess you not coming home was more calming because I didn't have to be nervous to see you.”
You crossed your arms. The cardigan protected you, but not enough. The cold wind was starting to nip at your cheeks. Satoru notices and moves closer to you.
“Let’s go back inside, yeah?”
You didn’t want to. You were nervous being “stranded” with Satoru already, but minimizing the space between you was even more nerve-wracking. He was your greatest temptation before, and you could easily create those labyrinths that guide him into your mind again if you got close enough.
“I’ll be fine," you say, looking straight ahead at the field of weeds in front of you.
“You’re gonna catch a cold. Get in the car," Satoru prompts. He thought back to the tired look on your face as you laid in bed sick, waiting for him to bring you warm soup.
“No," you insisted, turning away from him.
He inched closer, not wanting to look at your back. “Please, get in the car." He thought of the gracious look on your sick face when he brought you another blanket to keep you warm.
“I said no, Satoru. I don't want to get in the car with you."
You were being stubborn as hell, and something about it made Satoru’s blood boil to the point where he did whatever his mind told him to do. You were suddenly pinned to the car, your hands on Satoru’s chest to keep some distance. He blocked every gust of wind that threatened to bite at your skin, and enveloped you in his warmth. You don’t know how, but in this freezing temperature, Satoru’s hands felt like sunlight on your cheeks. His face was centimeters away from yours, his bright eyes searching for a loophole in your feelings for him. Your eyes spoke with an infinite amount of possibility, and some of it didn't make sense, so he kissed you in hopes of translating what you were trying to say.
You didn’t have any fight left in you. Not when you felt so secure in this close proximity. Now, all you wanted was to be in the car with him, alone.
The kiss was released with light breaths from both of you, a look of feeling complete on Satoru’s face. “Will you get in the damn car,” he whispers, his arms caging you against the car.
“Say please," you say in the same intimate volume as him.
“Please," he complies, allowing his eyes to flit between your eyes and your lips.
“Pretty please?" you push.
“Pretty please," he says, the corners of his lips twitching.
“How about pretty please with a cherry on top?”
“Get in the car," he says through a laugh.
You chuckle, shoving him lightly before opening the door and entering the car. Satoru gets in the drivers seat and suddenly it all feels strange. Strange, but in the best way.
The tension from before returns. There's no wind blowing to fill in the silence when you both stop talking.
“Do you ever think of me when you're alone?” It was a weird question to be asked by him, especially since you had already told him that your feelings for him were left behind.
“Never," you reply, a softness in your tone that held memories of when all you thought about was Satoru.
He's somewhat disappointed, seeing as though there's a chance he might be too late.
“Do you think that will change after tonight?” He seems to be getting closer, or at least his hands are. Your skin is irresistible and he wants to feel how soft you are. He's been craving you for so long, and you're right there.
“There’s no way to tell.” You can see how slowly his hand is traveling. A minute ago it was on his lap, now it’s on the armrest between your seats. You can’t wait any longer. The suspense might make you jump out of the car again, so you grab his hand and put it on your thigh, where your dress rides up.
“I’ll throw the question back to you. Do you think of me when you're alone?” You ask him now because he won’t give you some bullshit response at a time like this, when he’s getting everything he’s wanted for who knows how long.
“All the time,” he responds so quickly. “When I wake up, before I go to sleep, in the shower, while I brush my teeth.” There’s this foolish look on his face, like he would give anything to never lose the ability to have you on his mind all the time. "You're in there, organizing the shrine I made for you," he admits, with a grin. His thumb presses into your thigh, massaging the plush skin. It makes you nervous as hell, but you like it.
“Have you told Suguru and Shoko?”
He chuckles, remembering the conversation he had with them after you left. “I’m positive they know."
Once again, you're left staring at each other in silence, drowning in the tension you’ve created within yourselves. Satoru has yet to move his hand away from your thigh, not letting up even when he feels goosebumps spread on your skin. He tests the boundaries you have set up, finding no resistance from you when his hand reaches further up your dress.
“You’re not gonna tell me to stop?” He asks as his fingers are met with lace, a texture that makes his heart thud rapidly in his chest.
You shake your head, leaning back in the seat. His fingers ghost over the front of your panties, finding a satin bow just below the elastic band.
“Were you going to let that guy touch you? Is that why you wore these?” He hasn’t even seen them, and yet he can tell they’re the cutest thing ever.
“Maybe," you mumble, looking away in slight embarrassment.
“Can I see them?” He asks.
You nod, allowing him to slowly pull up your dress. Your heart drops when you hear him gasp.
“God, no way," he says, sounding defeated. His ears slowly turn a bright shade of red as he observes the material covering your intimate area.
“Stop,” you whine, feeling flustered by his reaction and the way he stares.
His hand returns to its previous spot, continuing to play with the part of the elastic that sticks to your hip.
“You wear these types of panties on every date you go on?”
You nod, biting your lip as his fingers move just to feel the fabric. His touch is still ghost-like—light, barely there, but it’s working you up anyway. There’s barely enough friction, yet you can feel your wetness begin to ruin the garment.
He sighs. “You know, no one deserves you.” His tone is smooth and he smiles at you, an angel taking control of his features. “Not even me, but I can make up for the one who missed you tonight.”
He spares his attention to the spot in the middle of your panties, only smiling when a breathy moan involuntarily leaves you.
“God..." you groan in embarrassment, covering your face with your hands. "I can’t with myself."
His thumb rubs up and down your clothed slit, applying pressure when he reaches your clit.
“Don’t be shy. Make as much noise as you want,” he says, luring a gasp from you.
You look away again, red-faced, feeling embarrassed beyond belief.
“What?” A low chuckle follows. His hands settle on your thighs as he leans in and tries to look at your flustered face.
“This is weird.” You look out the window, too nervous to look at Satoru.
“How come?”
You giggle. “I can’t stop seeing you as one of my friends. It’s strange to experience something like this with you.”
“I would hope Suguru and Shoko aren’t touching you like this.” His hand splays on your thigh, kneading softly. “Are they?” He asks, after a pause.
“Of course not.”
He seems satisfied with that response because he’s trying to hold back a smile, but the corners of his lips are twitching. His fingers snap the elastic band of your panties against your skin a couple more times.
“Is it too weird to go on?” He asks.
You consider the facts. He already touched you, he confessed his feelings for you before he touched you so you know he wasn't lying about his feelings for you and he doesn’t just want sex. You had those feelings for him before, but claimed to have lost them with time.
Your overwhelming thoughts are enough to put an end to what was going on. You pull down your dress, hiding the evidence of his touch, and sit up straight in the seat. “Maybe we should head home before we do something we might regret later.”
He hums and smiles, not an ounce of disappointment in his features. “No argument from me."
Satoru put his seatbelt on and watched as you did the same before starting the car. There was no need for him to set up the GPS because all he did was drive straight, so all he had to do was drive back the other way.
You didn’t expect the car ride to be so quiet. Maybe he did want things to go further. You couldn’t bear to look back at Satoru, even though you could feel him side eyeing you as he drove. There were a couple times where he turned his head to look at you when you stopped at red lights, but you knew you couldn’t look back until you had something to say. You were overthinking everything that happened until that point. What can you say when you just went through an entire roller coaster of emotions with someone you call a best friend? Someone who has now seen you in a vulnerable position.
“Did you at least eat?” Satoru asks, finally breaking the heavy silence that engulfed the car.
“Uh, yeah. I was able to get through my meal," you respond, glancing at him quickly before turning back to face the window.
He nods in acknowledgement. You see the stop sign at the end of your street, signaling the closeness of home.
Satoru parks the car in the driveway, and you finish removing your shoes. You enter the house, expecting to see Suguru and Shoko up waiting for you guys, but to your surprise, the doors to their bedrooms are shut.
“Goodnight, Satoru," you say. “Thanks again, for picking me up.”
“Yeah, no worries,” he responds. “Goodnight.”
You can’t shake the void left in your gut after your time with Satoru. You sit on your bed for a moment thinking of the intimacy that occurred between you and him. The gentleness of his touch, the lack of judgement from him when you basically told him that you dress your best even for scumbags. Something inside you was begging you to tell him how much you wanted him to sleep in your room—in your bed. And that’s exactly what you aimed for with this rush of adrenaline that surged through you. You rose off the bed quickly, and made haste to reach his bedroom.
You knocked, calling his name once. Once was all it took for him to leap to open the door.
“Can you help me with something?” You asked, hoping he held no ill will towards you and that he wouldn’t deny you.
“Sure. With what?”
You motion for him to follow you to your room, and he does with no further questions, following your bare feet as you lead him to your room.
“I tied the knot for my dress a little too tightly." You let out a quiet chuckle, your nervousness imbued into it.
“Oh, I see," he says, stifling a grin. "Turn around.” His finger circles in the air.
You turn your back to him, facing the mirror on your vanity. You can feel his knuckles grazing your lower back as he takes the time to slowly loosen the knot, the straps that once sat wrapped around your waist dropping loosely.
“There,” he murmurs, still standing behind you, looking at you through the mirror.
“Thank you,” you say so quietly that it’s almost a whisper.
Normally, that is the cue for someone to leave, but there was this branch of electricity connecting him to you. He couldn’t find a reason to step away from you, so instead he stepped closer. His arms encircled your waist, his hands interlocking above your lower abdomen. Your stomach swarmed with butterflies—blood thirsty ones that knew all too well that they wouldn't be leaving anytime soon, so long as Satoru was in your room.
He leaned in to kiss your shoulder, an act that brought goosebumps to your skin. "You look really pretty." You give in to the feeling, tilting your head to give him the entire canvas of that side of your neck. He wondered if you would be upset if you saw his kisses on your neck in the morning.
He stops and looks for your approval first because he has arrived centimeters behind the line between friends who are really comfortable with each other and something deeper. You have to let him know that it’s okay to cross this line.
“It’s okay,” you say, squeezing the hands that rest on your lower abdomen. “Don't stop."
That’s the green light he needed in order to move on. He did not hesitate at all in pulling back his arms and undoing the knot that held your dress up. He watched as the smooth velvet cascaded down your body, pooling at your feet, leaving you in nothing but those precious lace panties. You felt vulnerable with your bare chest out, but made no attempt to hide yourself.
He was frozen for a second or two, speechless at the sight before him.
“No one deserves you,” he finally says, his arms snaking around your torso. His lips start leaving behind their marks on the other side of your neck. He drags his kisses down your shoulder, biting once, then twice, resulting in a couple giggles from you.
“Close the door, please,” you say, realizing Shoko and Suguru would see what was happening if they opened their doors.
Satoru releases you only to close the door, locking it for safe measures. As soon as he’s back, he’s wrapping his arms around you before pushing both of you towards your bed. He starts stripping his clothes off, until he's left in just his boxers. His eyes never leave yours, a lovestruck smile on his face.
“You will never know how many times I’ve dreamt of this scenario."
“Stop.” You giggle, withstanding the sting of his lips on more than you neck. It’s heat on your chest and on your stomach now, his hands holding your waist so gently. You’ll look like some abstract piece of art by morning with the endless waves of kisses that Satoru gives you. He wants you so badly. Devastatingly so. He wants to prove that he is the closest to deserving you by the end of the night.
Your heartbeat is inconsolable in your ribcage. The eye contact brought some reality to the situation. He chuckles at the doe-eyed look on your face before refocusing on his task. He's nearing the elastic band of your underwear, those cute lacy ones he got to touch in the car. His touch is already affecting you, the evidence being a wet spot reemerging in the middle of your underwear.
"You're so warm and soft, and..." he sighs, your body making his mind cloud. He couldn't have ever accurately imagined how stunning you would be with just the golden street lamp's light shining through your window. "...you smell really fucking good." His hands go beneath the elastic band of your underwear, dragging his dainty fingers through your slit enough times to earn a small gasp from you, before pulling his hand out. "Bet you taste amazing, too," he says, wrapping his lips around his glossy digits. "Mhm..." he practically moans when your taste coats his tastebuds. "Sweeter than I could have ever imagined."
You don't think you'll get over Satoru saying these explicit things to you.
"More. Fuck, I need more." There's so much he wants to do to you, so little time in the night despite it only being 11:30. "God, you're so..." he cuts himself off and kisses down your stomach, impatiently—desperately. "...so pretty. So—fuck— so pretty. Gonna make you feel so good."
"Okay, 'toru, make sure to breathe," you tease, running your fingers through his soft locks as he nears your throbbing core.
He drags his nose up and down the wet patch of your panties, audibly inhaling your scent and exhaling through shuddered breaths. He sounds feral, his aching cock creating its own pool of arousal in his boxers. The tip of his nose was covered in your slick, the remnants of you on his skin driving him absolutely crazy. Once he absolutely couldn't take it anymore, he yanked your underwear down, almost tearing the pretty fabric and tossed it onto the floor. You were soaked at the sight of his pure lust towards you. Those eyes were darker than you've ever seen them before.
He tries to be slow and gentle for you. You're the one thing he's wanted for the longest time and now he has you. You're not guaranteed to be his forever, after this, but at least the night is secured and he has this one chance to prove that he would do it right with you. That he could handle your body with a tenderness and loving that would make you weep. Everything you want in a lover will be given to you in one act of demonstrating how undeniably in love with you he is.
His attempt at slow sensuality never reaches you. His arms are hooked tightly around your thighs to prevent you from squirming away from his greedy mouth. He wants everything you give him to never end. The melodic sound of you moaning his name, the sweet nectar that just keeps drooling out of your cunt, the sting on his scalp from the firm hold you have on his hair and the tugging. He's in heaven. If the possibility of this reoccurring is nonexistent, he wants this moment to loop. For there to be a glitch in real life that allows him to replay this scenario as many times as he likes, like a story with multiple endings.
"You taste so good. So fucking good, princess. Wanna give you a taste," he rambles. He unwraps his right arm from your thigh and uses his forearm to pin it down so that he can use his fingers on you. He bends all his fingers down except for his index and middle fingers. Your slick is already streaming out of you, ready to be collected, but he can't resist the urge to dip his fingertips into your pulsing hole. "Oh fuck, you're so wet," he utters in awe, quickly tossing the idea of just his fingertips going in when his long, lithe fingers sink into you with ease.
"Satoru," you choke out, a sharp gasp following. The pads of his fingers brush against that spot within you that forces you to bite your lip. Your heart is racing. What if you get caught? How would you explain what's going on to your friends and would the dynamic of your living situation change because of it? You care, but clearly not enough to second guess this moment again, like you did in the car.
"Mmm..." he moans against your clit, his lips smacking after releasing the now throbbing bundle. "So sweet." He pulls his fingers out of you and admires the glaze that drips down to his knuckles. He wants to be selfish and put them in his mouth, but his need for you to know how good you are to his tastebuds overpowers those thoughts. "Open, pretty," he says, tapping his wet fingers against your lips. He watches with parted lips as you take his slick coated digits into your mouth, shutting your lips around them to completely suck off your essence. "Good, huh?" A pleased grin appears when you nod. "Yeah... I want it back." He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and puts them on your right breast, smearing your saliva all over your nipple until it pebbles.
All you can do is say "huh?" before your lips are enveloped by his. The kiss starts out slow— he's taking a moment to appreciate how perfect your lips feel against his. For a minute you can feel the way he innocently wants you. You have butterflies in your stomach all over again.
His hunger for you grows with every sharp breath you release and the squirming beneath his unrelenting hands on your chest. Your heart has been pounding in your ears since he slipped his tongue into your mouth and you have goosebumps from all the rubbing, brushing, and tweaking he offers your nipples, the throbbing in your cunt only intensifying as you withstand it. He thinks the whimpers that seep into your kisses are the cutest sounds ever and he doesn't want them to stop, so he glides a hand down your abdomen and gives you the touch you're missing.
You break the kiss, throwing your head back into the pillow at the feeling of Satoru rubbing your clit. He watches through gleaming eyes the way your jaw hangs and allows the sweetest moans to spill from your kissed up lips.
"Feeling good?" He asks, grinning when you respond with a moan that makes you clasp a hand over your mouth. "Yeah? That's an answer, too." He chuckles, watching intently as you crumble beneath his touch, not some zero's who made a fool out of himself.
You uncover your mouth, your sounds amplifying and flowing freely. "Satoru," you gasp. "Oh, fuck– S-Satoru!" The last words you manage to cry out before you cum without a warning.
You look way too pretty arching your back off the bed and chasing friction from his hand. Your neck looks palpable like that, exposed for him like you want him to mark it up and take a few bites.
"Let me make you feel good, pretty girl," he coos, drunk off the cute sounds of the heaves and sobs that wrack through your chest, your little whines shining through them. Lustful, lidded eyes watch as you try to wriggle away from his touch.
"P-Please," you huff out, your trembling thighs working to shut around his hand. It's too much, your peak has passed and now you're left to bear the overwhelming feeling of his unstopping fingers.
"I know, I know. It's terrible..." he murmurs. His tip is leaking so much at the sight of your body jerking and your eyes welling with tears. He really loves the way you've surrendered yourself to him. "You're so pretty." He sighs, dreamily. He stops and wiggles his hand out of the tight embrace of your thighs. You take a deep breath and blink away tears, focusing on the comforting movement of his hands caressing your thighs. He can see the way you look at his body. His chest, the sculpted muscles of his abdomen, the pale happy trail that leads to a part of him that you are unfamiliar with.
He crawls over you, his lower body wedged between your legs. "Don't be scared to touch," he says, his tone sultry. He grabs ahold of your hand and places it on his chest, initiating the contact for you. You take control and allow your hands to roam his body. Like you're in a room full of random unpressed buttons, you explore the different reactions you get from touching different parts of him. You discovered that his nipples are sensitive. He groaned into your neck when you palmed at his pecs and borderline whimpered when you focused your touch on his peaks. He shuddered when you traced along his ribs, but once you neared his stomach and waist, things got hot for you all over again. Your heart raced as he breathed into your neck due to the feeling of your nails gently scratching along his abs. He was rutting his clothed bulge against your cunt, desperate, low moans leaving him with every graze of your nails along his waist.
"F-Fuck, I can't wait anymore. Please, let me in." He whips out the cutest puppy eyes you've ever seen, and though they're unnecessary, you're not opposed to him having to resort to those means.
"Y-Yeah, okay," you breathe, feeling the throbbing in your cunt intensify when he stopped rolling his hips against you.
He's rushing, his movement stuttered and his hands shaking with desperation as he works his boxers off. He's impressed with the amount of precum that went into them, but he doesn't waste time admiring the mess any longer once he frees his achingly hard, drooling cock. It's sensitive to the touch. He'll cum if he doesn't play his cards right while lathering his length with the essence that beads at his tip. With that taken care of, he comes close to you again.
"This is gonna be the slowest start ever," he says under his breath, eyeing that sweet little smile on your face, like you understand the turmoil he's going through with just trying to get inside you. His tip nudges your clit, spreading some of his precum onto the nub as he guides it up and down your slit a couple times. He's working himself up to sinking in because he knows how wet you are. After a few more strokes, he presses just the tip in, nestling it into your warmth with a groan. You gasp as he slowly drives himself into you, the stretch his girth induces proving to be immense. He tries to steady his stuttering hips as he pushes more of his length in.
"Little more, just a liiittle more," he says through soft breaths, more to himself than you. Once he glides the rest of his length in, he feels like he's going to explode. He's throbbing so hard and you're not helping at all with the brief, inconsistent spasming of your walls. "Oh fuck... shit," he whimpers, thrusting only halfway into you. "Sorry—fuck—s-sorry... I can't-" He gasps when he thrusts the rest of the way in, spewing his load as he just grinds against you.
Your eyes widen as you watch him, his eyes shut tightly, his jaw hanging ajar to release shaky breaths. His cheeks, neck and chest are blazed, bright color smothered over his pale skin.
"Shit..." he rasps, still taking deep breaths.
You can't even ridicule him for this when he looks so fine. The laugh he let out was enough to make your thighs twitch.
"It's alright, Satoru. It's getting pretty late, anyway."
"No-the-fuck it's not," he says, looking down at you with the smallest crease between his brows. He's wanted this—wanted you—for way too long and he can't leave your room without showing you just how badly he desires you. It's a need, at this point.
A chill runs down your spine and your heart drops at his response.
"I mean, i'm not tired. Are you?" He asks, softening a little after coming in so hot with his last response.
You're not and even if you were, it's those eyes... They compel you to want to do things for his sake. They're so soft and you feel wanted beneath their force. You feel everything he said to you in the car when you peer into his eyes.
"No. I'm not tired either," you respond, which instantly puts a smile on his face.
"Good. Let me try again."
Neither of you mentioned any of what happened within that quick span of time. No mentions of him spilling the second he got inside you or you trying to end the night to save him the embarrassment, and it turned out for the better. No awkwardness once he recovered and went back to proving his love for you. He went straight into it, thrusting at a slow pace to start you off. He held onto your hips as he leaned in and kissed all over your chest, sucking your delicate skin to leave little reminders of him for you to see in the morning.
He groans, muffled by your warm skin, when you scratch the back of his head, guiding your nails through the short hairs of his undercut and down the nape of his neck. He's purring like a satisfied cat, the soft breaths he lets out through his nose grazing your neck.
With all these good feelings comes Satoru picking up the pace. His hips meet yours a little more quickly and suddenly both of you get a little more courage to make more sound.
"Fuck," you whimper. "Satoru... S-Satoru..."
"I know..." he grunts. "I know, baby. I feel really good, too."
You just look so damn pretty, with your starry eyes and your messy hair, and the way you keep moaning his name. He has to kiss you again. Each time he kissed you before was accompanied by fireworks. This time... who knows? He certainly won't unless he gains the courage to do it once more.
He leans forward and stares deep into your eyes. The level of intimacy has doubled down and you feel like your heart is trying even harder to lurch out of your chest. He's not stopping, you can feel his breath on your lips as he pants through the exertion of his hips. Then, once again, with a whimper as he closes the distance between your mouths, he kisses you. It's not fireworks this time, it's an entire fire and you kissing him back like you need him just as much is fanning the wild flames.
"Love... you," he disperses the words through his kisses. He doesn't only say it once. He says it multiple times as your lips are moving, making those pauses purposeful. "Fuck– I love you," he repeats, breaking the kiss when you don't say anything. "Come on," he chuckles. "Say it back."
"Satoru..." you say, softly.
"You say it all the time to us. What's another time?"
You bite back a laugh when you see those brilliant eyes again. He knows the effect they have on people and uses them to his advantage.
"It doesn't..." he groans, cursing under his breath when you suddenly clench around him. "...have to mean anything more than it usually does."
You're hesitant, but figure that as long as he doesn't take it as more than what he's used to—at least until things are talked through—there can't be any harm in saying what he wants to hear.
"Love you, 'toru."
The words are way too sweet, too gentle on his ears. The smile you offered as you delivered those words was devastatingly beautiful. You've said this a million times, each time so friendly, so lovingly, the meaning never feigned or faded with its repetition, but in that moment, he felt the words more than he ever did before. Your plush thighs are pressed against his hips, your hands are on his chest, and he can still smell that perfume you spritzed on your skin before you left. He's never heard you like this before, so sultry that it almost seems like an invasion of privacy.
"Again... say it again, p-please." With the scene that is playing out before his very eyes, he wants to imagine you meaning it as a term for lovers.
"I-I..." you let out a sharp gasp, your words cut off by the feeling of his cock brushing against that weak spot within you. "I love y-you, Satoru."
You're saying it to him only, right now. It's not 'I love you guys', it's 'I love you, Satoru', and he's drowning in it all. Your voice, the words, the blissed out look on your face. He's weak.
"Yeah?" He laughs, sounding almost delirious from how good he feels and how he's trying so hard not to cum.
"Mhm," you respond.
"T-That's good to know," he says, breathily. He's picking up the pace again, almost knocking the wind out of you with that first thrust in the change of pace. You're scratching up his back, wrapping your legs around his waist while he moans into the crook of your neck.
"G-Gonna cum, gonna fucking cum, again."
"Please... cum inside," you babble, nonsensically.
"Yeah? You want it inside again?" He asks, grinning when you hum and nod in confirmation. Who is he to deny you of such a simple want?
With a few more harder thrusts, he's filling you to the brim again with his warm cum. He's breathing heavily into your neck, mouthing at your skin sloppily as your cunt flutters around him. He's babbling on and on asking you if you came and if you feel good, while you're trying not to cry out too loudly from how hard you did. It's only until he unsticks himself from your tacky skin that he sees the aftermath of your orgasm. Your lidded eyes, the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the sound of your shuddered breaths brushing past your lips. He's thinking about it again. No one deserves you, but clearly, he was the closest.
He tosses himself beside you once you both come down. Your blanket is shared between the two of you, it reaches just above your chest and above Satoru's hips.
He sighs as he turns over to face you as you stare up at the ceiling. "You think they heard us?" He asks, voice low and intimate, yet a mischievous smirk that tells you he wouldn't care if they did, plays on his lips.
"Not sure. I guess we'll find out tomorrow." Now it's your turn to sigh. You don't even want to think about how weird breakfast might be in the morning.
"Hey," he calls for your attention. You turn onto your side to face him, keeping the blanket close to your body. "It's gonna be fine. What's the worst that could happen? They tease us or call us dumb?" You give him a soft smile. Normally, you're the one calling him dumb while the others agree. "Don't know about you, but I don't mind. They don't know the story, anyway. Right?"
"Right."
Time slowed down in that moment. You both just stared at each other in silence, thinking about what just happened. You were comfortable together, lying there, satisfied with your decisions. He pulled you closer by your blanket covered waist and pressed kisses into your cheek, enough to make you giggle until you started returning the kisses. To anybody, this would be considered a sight of two lovers taking care of each other after a night of intimacy. The whispered words, the quiet laughter between kisses, the gentle drags of fingers on harsh marks—it all points to love. You think things might be okay, after all.
It took a while for you and Satoru to untangle yourselves from each other. Eventually, he got up and dressed into everything but his messy boxers. You weren't going to get back into your dress so you laid back for a while and watched as he collected himself.
"Well... I'll see you in the morning." His hand is on the doorknob and he's looking at you, shamelessly raking his eyes over your body as if he's trying to memorize you all over again within the short span of his goodnight to you.
"Mhm. Goodnight."
He pulls the door open, still not detaching his gaze from you. "Goodnight," he says, his voice low, yet warm and brimming with love. He spares one more soft smile for you, before walking out and clicking the door shut behind him.
You think you finally understand why he's so hung up on the way you say goodnight.
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