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tojisun · 1 month ago

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the hand that feeds you

— “i take care of her, s’all.”

johnny mactavish x f!reader

cw: 18+ work - minors dni; age difference; daddy issues (kinda the central plot); cooking as a love language; slow burn but in high speed; a breath of angst; power imbalance; canon divergence - regular/non-military life au // amazing divider by @gildui! // 6.5k words

extra notes: this is a very self-indulgent work. there are holes in the plot, 100%, so ignore those holes pretty pls </3 also ik this is more of a captain johnny-verse but midway through, i started projecting so i might’ve written him incorrectly and im really sorry for that!!

being roommates with johnny is not as weird as it is; he’s amicable, at first, then full blown nice when days passed. he’s not loud, per se, but there’s always a constant chatter streaming from his space, like he physically can’t sit still through the silence which is great because you don’t fare any better with the stillness too, so reminiscent of how it was in the suburbs.

you moved to a neighbourhood just skirting past the inner city just because it’s a lot cheaper. but even then, rent was always high and your little box in a rundown complex wasn’t going to sustain you forever even if you wished it would. then, an opening in johnny’s townhouse was posted, almost half-price than whatever is up in the market, and it’s great despite your skepticism. hell, it’s more than great — it’s lifesaving.

your shitty job at the bookstore really can’t cover much of your expenses anymore, and sure student loans and the grant is great, but the growing debt makes you wince so it’s whatever at this point. you’re about to graduate soon anyway, pooling work experience from volunteering and club organizations, and it’s not like you can even go back to how it was.

(underway to law school, primed up before your father’s scrutiny but the burnout got to you before you could even write the LNAT. you realized that being a barrister wasn’t really what you wanted so you changed programs, midway, and switched to children’s education.

god, the disappointment in your pa’s eyes was so big, you knew to pack your shit before he could even kick you out.)

it’s… tough.

god, is it tough. none of your old friends and colleagues could stay in contact, which you don’t hold against them because most of them, by now, have graduated and entered law school. you’re straggling about two years back because of the switch in programs, and everything’s gone too tight. your budget. your social life.

your dating life.

johnny often distracts you from it all — he works in downtown, in one of those high-rise buildings often reserved for limiteds or holding companies, and has to travel off the city every three months. he makes good money, he said jovially, and you know it’s a nudge as to why your portion of the rent is cheap in the first place.

when you finally bit the bullet and asked why he put up one of the rooms in the market, johnny just shrugged and said he needed someone to house sit but sort off permanently. said something like last time he left, the pipes bursted and he couldn’t really fly back to help with the repairs.

it’s great being with him. he’s bright and bubbly, but also dependable in ways you never really thought about. like—

well, it’s all mundane things so listing them feels embarrassing, and it makes you feel as though you’re a touch-starved damsel and johnny just so happened to be the next older man to give you any attention and his time. but you can’t help it. god, you can’t help preen at the way he exists beside you.

he’s just so… beautiful, is what it is.

rugged and charming and loud and filling. the townhouse is too big for the two of you, but johnny makes it work. makes it feel like the two of you just fit into each other’s spaces.

early mornings are spent with him lilting between english and scottish, his exhaustion plastered onto him even after he’s downed two cups of coffee. he bumps his hip onto yours when he ambles out to prepare for his work, grumbling something like good morning and how’re you. afternoons are more lively and productive; it’s of you coming back from campus at six in the evening only to find him in the kitchen, fixing up dinner. it’s always something fancy and rich in flavour; something he always eats with wine on the side.

you, uh, you never thought he could actually cook, let alone feed himself well, but there he was, always a plate ready for you too like it’s expected that you’ll eat dinner with him. like spending time with him was just natural — the sky is blue, the ocean’s deep, and you and johnny fall into each other like there is an invisible string pulling you close to him.

it’s a beautiful change of pace, and there are more days now when you can breathe in a little easier, and you know it’s all because of johnny. it’s all him who pulled you out of your slump and out of that darkness and gave you the room, literally, to grow.

he’s beautiful, but you’ve said that already, haven’t you? he’s just… so good to be with.

then, johnny began picking up and bringing some home.

the first time it happened was shocking, really.

you had an early morning, something that’s so murky now in your memories so you’re unsure if it was anything uni related or work related, just that it was five in the morning and you were clambering downstairs as quietly as you could. you rounded the length of the hallway from the platform to the kitchen when you ran into someone.

“steady,” she’d said, voice hoarse and loud in her shock too.

you yelled, jumping, arms swinging because was there an intruder, and it took johnny physically subduing you for you to calm down. looking back now, you burn in embarrassment, but then you had been so worried, your body wound up so tightly in your fear.

“shh,” johnny had murmured with that wry grin. “s’just me, lass.”

your eyes danced between him and the brunette — pretty even in her rumpled shirt, with long legs and a small waist — trying to understand what was going on. you are sure johnny had told you before that he wasn’t seeing anyone so who—

“your girlfriend?” she asked johnny, turning to him with her lips pursed and her brow cocked up.

the question settled in your stomach, doing wonders to your already-fragile psyche. you’d just spent hours thinking about johnny and what he meant to you; what living with him meant. how it eased up something carved within the trenches of your being, like you’d always been waiting for someone like him.

the question was a reminder, like prickling you with icicles, leaving you to navigate the swoop. but johnny had laughed, nothing mean but so dismissive that you felt the curl of shame brandishing from the base of your spine like johnny was laughing at you.

“oh, nah,” he replied, arm still slung over your shoulders. “she’s sorta my ward, yes? i take care of her, s’all.”

that’s all. you’re nothing more to him but a ward. a tenant. not even a friend—

she hummed, then leaned over to kiss johnny, her eyes still drawn to you like she’s watching, waiting for a reaction, and when she got none, she trudged to the door. you and johnny watched as she bent down to slip in her shoes, some stilettos with red bottoms, before wordlessly disappearing into the darkened morning.

“pretty,” you chirped, trying to break the tension of whatever that was.

johnny laughed in that way that surely crinkled his eyes, only to steer the conversation away by asking why you were up early. you remembered what you had to do and you dived to the kitchen in a flurry, chatting about the deadlines and due dates — so it was a school thing — and johnny just watched, silent, humming, eyes still curved in his glee.

you left no sooner than his… paramour did and, for a while, that was that.

but your semester is coming to a close and your schedule is changing, but so is johnny’s. he’s coming home later and later, but always seemed to offer apologies in the form of easy-to-microwave meals for your dinner. they’re still homemade, probably cooked up in the morning before he left for work, and you’d messaged him to say that he didn’t need to worry about you. that, sure, you came to him amidst financial struggle, juggling work and school, and trying to decide if you would have to starve this month because of rent, but you can cook. for yourself and for him too.

johnny’s face did a terrible thing when you mentioned that in person, the first in a while after things got hectic.

“what,” you bit out, embarrassed.

“nothing,” he said, blinking like he was realizing things he shouldn’t. “s’fun doing things f’r you.”

then he clamped up, spooning soup into his mouth, some of it messily dribbling into his chin. it’s not like you were doing any better, with how your throat closed up at his words, eyes going wide.

it’s been a thing, is what it is, but neither of you two have ever acknowledged that it’s a thing. it’s been a wordless experience — of johnny taking over things when it comes to the house because of course he will, it’s his home, but he always covers things for you too. things you’re sure normal landlords don’t really worry about, but not johnny.

there’s always extra food in the kitchen, extra blankets when the weather dips. there’s even a new cooling machine for the summer even though you know johnny’s room already has an installed air conditioning. he’s even changed the seats in the dining room because he caught you once hitting your hip after an all-nighter on a project.

then, he refurbished the den to make it your office.

“you didn’t have to,” you told him, mind racing at your savings, wondering if he was going to increase your rent.

johnny just shook his head with an almost fond roll of his eyes and clapped your back, arm hovering there. “s’all yers, hen.”

everything he did always accounted for you. so why the women?

they’re all long limbed and trimmed waist, with eyes that sparkled even when all you’ve seen of them is always within the poorly-lit hallway. they have voices that curl teasingly, breathy like they’re enticing johnny for one more night. and they’ve always, always, treated you like a—

like a kid.

a burden, almost, of johnny’s.

and, hell, maybe you are. johnny’s almost twice your age; he’s also already well-established in his career, some senior position that you can’t really follow but one he talks about with fondness. he’s got land rover-money, the car in his garage big and black and almost military grade, and it looks so expensive especially beside the crappy civic you were able to snag for a cheap price because it’s got about three-hundred-thousand mileage already.

you’ve got nothing to give him, other than the lousy rent payment that he doesn’t even really need but is just asking for courtesy because it’d be so weird for him to offer a room, or two now given you have the den too, for free. you’ve got nothing on your name, and if it isn’t pity that makes johnny care for you, then you don’t know what.

maybe his string of one-night stands are right — you are just a kid.

that maybe you really are still too wet behind the ears for the real world that you go running to the next person that could protect you from it, stumbling into his life and licking up every drop of his attention, mistaking his kindness for devotion. his care for love.

you should have known, then, that the thoughts would ripple, leaving you to feel like the days are unnavigable. obsession quickly took root, growing fangs, and it ensnared you; a vice noose at what had been a pleasant coexistence.

hell, you can barely stand being with johnny because of the jealousy. it’s a shameful thing, but a part of you thinks you deserve johnny more than the others do.

you tell yourself that nobody knows about johnny’s nightmares and the horrors that spill from his lips when it’s twelve in the morning and the two of you have hit the bourbon. you tell yourself that nobody knows about johnny’s aversion to the windows in the living room; that the reason why the curtains are a deep green is not to match the new plants he’s allowed you to fill up his home but because they shroud the panels more than the cream ones had. you tell yourself that nobody knows that johnny can sing; that he can cook a mean tomahawk; that he likes reading; that his wrists were hurting so he’s currently scheduled for a surgery; that he’s soft to you.

the women don’t know this johnny, you tell yourself, nails clawing at the hems of your chest. they don’t know him the way i do.

it’s a pathetic whisper. it’s so laughable. so juvenile.

they’re right. they’re right.

(you’re just a—)

“i don’t see you anymore,” johnny murmured one morning, when things have gone quiet again, a cup of coffee sitting on the counter while he watches you throw orange peels into the garburator.

he just got back from a work trip in aberdeen, his exhaustion loud on his face. his hair is overgrown, the bottom ends of his mohawk curling along his nape. he was there for over three weeks, skirting almost close to a month — the longest he’s ever been away — and you had tried so hard not to message. not to drop casual check-ins because you’re sure no tenant ever does that to their landlord, but johnny had remained just as friendly; asking things like if you wanted another potted plant, a monstera or a dragon tree, or if you still had that swiss chocolate he brought home as a gift, or—

the list of his questions grew, but you’ve given him clipped replies, not knowing how to act right anymore since your quiet realization. even the “thing” that you thought you shared with him had fizzled at the drop of the women coming-and-leaving, and you are left to pick up the pieces.

it’s not like you’re broken or ruined or angry. god, no you aren’t.

but you feel unsteady, like now that you know that you liked him more than he liked you, you forgot how to breathe. how to live without that looming burden because your affection is nothing but a burden.

what will johnny do if he finds out? you can’t afford a new place to move into, not when you’re so close to graduating, the finish line just about to graze your very fingertips with how near it is. money is still tight, and johnny has already spoiled you rotten. has shown you how it is to live a comfortable life. and if he learns of your feelings, you would lose this. more than anything, you would lose him.

so you detached yourself from the noose, curling into yourself and using his work trip as a way to move on.

jesus — move on, huh? like there was a ‘you and johnny’ to even move on from. like there was anything there to read. like there was anything there to pull away from; twitching fingers drawing back into the spaces of your ribs, tucking yourself away from his warmth.

“i’ve been so busy, john,” you muttered, just as tired.

“yeah?” he said, still light. still jovial. “let me cook something nice for ye, huh? reward yer hard work and all.”

“i can’t.” you swallowed down the prickle lodged in your throat, eyes ducking away to avoid seeing his. “i’ve got a meeting with the club.”

(you missed the way johnny’s smile dipped.)

“oh,” he said.

you shrugged, internally wincing at your weak attempt at being normal, before gathering your thermos and your messily-wrapped sandwich. johnny was still standing by the counters when you turned around from the sink, his bulk so close to yours in ages. it had been so long since you could just reach over and feel his warmth; feel the soft pudge of what once were hardened muscles.

he’s looking at you with such sad eyes that it’s jarring to truly see because he’s looking at you like—

like he’s losing you.

“i’m gonna…” you trailed off, not really knowing how to end this truly awkward interaction.

“yeah, f’course,” he croaked out. “take care of yerself huh, lass?”

“thanks.” the smile on your face felt more like a grimace. “see you.”

he said nothing more after that, his eyes still searching; still furrowed like something’s changed and something’s happening, and it made your stomach drop because please. please don’t let him notice.

but johnny just watched as you went, his coffee all forgotten.

(something bloomed in the soft press of your heart, flickering like a young ember. you’ve never realized how longing could feel like your mouth is stuffed with cotton.)

johnny hasn't picked up since his return from aberdeen.

they’re getting a new firm so the shuffling has been brutal, leaving johnny to clamber out at five in the morning before coming back home when it’s pushing 11pm. the scruff on his face is becoming more unkempt, salt and pepper becoming more intense, but even then, he’s never looked more ruggedly beautiful as he is now.

it’s like he’s aged years and you shouldn’t be reacting so strongly to the change, but looking at johnny now makes you ache in a different way — core throbbing, throat parched and eyes stinging as you watch him. you’re so drawn to his gravitational pull, unable to detangle yourself now that it feels like he’s more back in your life than he ever was.

and you know it’ll end up hurting you. that you’ll go back to isolating yourself at the drop of a new girl in the house, the smell of her chanel or bvlgari perfume filling up the crevices that you’ve dutifully dusted every saturday morning while johnny’s out for a run. he’s made having casual lovers a cycle, one that you cannot blame him for because johnny doesn’t like you back.

but johnny’s been so attentive to you these days. he’s been a hovering presence even when he looks like he’s one blown wind away from passing out in his exhaustion, his warm hand always on the small of your back as he walks you to the door before chirping a hearty, “kick ass, bon!”

he’s back to fixing up food for you, like that blip in your schedule got him all creative because now, it’s not even just dinner. you’ve got breakfast waiting for you in the microwave, and packed lunch already in your bag, carefully tucked beside the manila folders and plastic envelopes for your capstone. it’s like he’s making up for something which is dumb and wrong because now, you’re all swooping stomach and prickling lungs.

“yummy?” johnny asked, catching you wriggling in excitement at the flavour bursting into your tongue.

your cheeks tingled, feverish, before giving him a shy nod.

he huffed, something so achingly fond, and rested his chin atop his crossed arms. you didn’t know what to focus on — the scruff on his face or the hard lines of webbing veins spilling from beneath his folded sleeves. then, he crooned, “good. that’s good.”

you ran upstairs to your room, throwing an excuse about finishing up your paper, before locking the door, and feeding your cunt two fingers to satiate the burn. the stretch was delicious, raw and sweet, and you humped your wrist, trying to douse the flames burning you up.

you thought of johnny, of the way he looked and how much nicer he’s been; of johnny and the way he was so kind to you, so caring like you’re up in his priority list again, overtaking his busy schedule and the firm restructuring, and his needs.

your orgasm felt like a ripping of reality, your mind splintering at the edges as you’re stretched thin. it felt like you’ve been pulled taut, then released with a resounding snap. it felt euphoric, like the explosion of something intoxicating. something wickedly addicting.

you knew that this could never be unmade. your affections had grown their tendrils, curling past the quiet admiration and spiralling into something unforgiving. into something greater than yourself.

“fuck,” you had rasped out, eyes prickling with tears as shame rushed into your chest. “fuck.”

you didn’t need this. you didn’t need any of this.

but it becomes a cycle — wash, rinse, repeat.

johnny continues to go unshaven; continues to pour his attention to you. and you soak it up, needy and soft, unable to turn away with your tail tucked between your legs. you fall back to the ease of how it had been, hip bumping his, morning coffee shared in the silence, dinner a filling affair once more. all that’s changed are the lingering looks, the resonating touches.

how johnny’s wide hand falls to the small of your back more often; how his fingers just slots against yours every time he passes you your cup; how his eyes rove over your face, always searching for something you dare not hope for.

the last time he flicked his eyes down to watch the way your tongue lapped at your lips, swiping away at the extra cream, johnny’s pupils had constricted before a quiet groan rumbled from his throat. your thighs had quickly clenched close as heat exploded in the pit of your belly, spreading like wildfire through your veins. the pressure on your nub made you hiccup, like a whine dragging itself from your trachea, and johnny had snapped his eyes back to yours so quickly, it made you heady.

“bon–”

“i have to go,” you murmured, clamouring to shaky legs.

you fucked yourself to a deafening point once more, ears ringing as you squirted, the gush of your slick pushing past your fingers. you had to gnash your pillow cover to muffle the moan rumbling from the base of your throat, trying desperately to be good. to not be heard. to be better.

but johnny’s burning gaze on your lips was seared into your memory, blazing on top of everything, and you imagined—

god, you imagined.

the way he’ll take you — beard rough on your chin, thicker fingers spreading you wider, reaching deeper, before finally filling you up with all of him, bullying the whole length of his cock until he bottoms out.

you pressed on your stomach, dizzy, thinking about how johnny would hit that far. you know he would. the women he’s slept with have told you, anyway, in passing, describing how he was in bed with dreamy sighs like they weren’t still reeking of sex and johnny’s aftershave.

(you still wonder why so many of them were mean, their noses tipped up every time they saw you. they were the ones that johnny chose, the ones who were fortunate enough to have been his lover, so you wonder why they still sought you out like you were competition.)

“johnnyyyy!” you moaned, loud and long, your fingers prodding at your walls, and you knew that you’d regret the wrangled cry later, but you didn’t care then, too busy swimming in the aftermath of your orgasm.

but johnny heard it anyway.

he told you that he had heard you.

it happened so quickly — one moment you were bent over the espresso machine, fiddling with the levers with bleary-eyed attempts, then the next thing you knew was that johnny was crowding you, trapping you between the warm bulk of his body and the counter, his eyes furrowed so deeply which made the lines on his forehead run much deeper.

“whu’?” you asked, blinking tiredly at him.

johnny just did this shaky breath that rattled his whole body, like he was propped up by a couple of sticks instead of his whole mass. the mood shifted with that weak inhale though, and you turned to fully face him, ignoring the beeping machine because johnny was still looking at you with those eyes.

the ones that made you feel seen, read, and laid bare before him. like he could weave his eyes past the fabrics of your shirt to peek into the very jagged shards of your heart and see the cross that you’ve been carrying. like he knew things about you that he shouldn’t.

“johnny?” you prodded again, finding his silence alarming.

“yer too young for me, m’eudail,” johnny finally rumbled out, voice thick and deep.

and it’s—

what.

your mind was pressing into your skull, trying desperately to link your synapses together; for the fog to clear and for your coherence to rise above the pull of drowsiness, but johnny was faster. like now that he’s said the first words, the rest just follow, unstoppable in their force and in their meaning.

“i told myself i couldn’t,” he murmured, still breathing shakily; gaze still too fragile. “that yer lookin’ for nothin’ like me, and that yer just tryin’ to get out there with yer career.”

he lifted a hand, fingers twitching, before balling it back down to a fist.

“told myself i’ve gotta let go. found a way to cope and shit.”

johnny took another ragged breath in, and it startled you into gulping one of your own — you didn’t even realize that you’ve held your breath as he spoke to you, your chest clenching tightly as your mind began to link the passageways together, filling you in on what he wasn’t really saying.

“but carin’ f’you was so easy. christ, it was even delightful, hen.” he chuckled, something that was somewhat raw and pained.

you licked at your lips, blinking wide eyes open. johnny tracked the movement, his nose flaring like you’ve done something more than a subconscious thing, his shoulders going taut.

“i like doing all sorta things for you. liked seeing y’eat what i cooked; liked seeing y’use what i got f’you. liked watching y’come home to me. to me.”

a soft sound echoed between the two of you, and it took you an embarrassingly long time to realize that it was a breathless whimper that petered out from the base of your throat. you didn’t even realize that you’ve curled into yourself, almost like you’re trying your best to shrink before johnny, and johnny crooned.

callused palm cupped the round of your cheek, his thumb swiping just underneath your eye. “told myself yer too young; that surely yer looking for someone closer to yer age, but bon, i heard y’last night.”

you startled in his hold, a quiet gasp piercing through the heat. johnny’s lips danced with mirth.

“s’right. heard a loud thump against the wall and ran upstairs, all worried, but guess my surprise, yes? y’were moanin’ my name so loudly, it’s like y’left yer door open.”

“johnny, i–”

“tell me,” he said, moving closer, his chest pressing against yours. “tell me t’stop, bon, an’ i will. but y’ve got to tell me. y’ve got to push me away.”

you looked at him, your eyes trembling at what he was laying out thickly, and your throat going parched at the blanketing desire rippling from him. there were so many things you wanted to ask, but his breath was tickling the bridge of your nose, dancing so close to the bow of your lips, and your heart ached.

desire coursed through you in waves, dribbling from the cup, and you lurched forward, chasing after his lips.

johnny melted into you. his hesitant touch turned greedier, more possessive, mapping your body and pulling you closer into him. his mouth devoured your own, gulping down the pleased little sighs and keens spilling from your lips. he kissed like a man starved, but you weren’t any softer; all nippy and desperate, fingers digging into his hair and fisting at the thin strands.

it was feverish, almost to a boiling point, and you needed more.

god, you needed more.

“johnny,” you mewled when he pulled away just enough to slide his damp lips along the cut of your jaw. “johnny, need you.”

“christ,” johnny sounded so wrecked, his voice rumbling deeply from where his lips were suckling on the soft curve of your neck. “i’ve been dreaming of this, mo luaidh. i knew i shouldn’t but yer so sweet to me and i– i wanted.” he said that word like it was dirty; like he’d been fighting tooth-and-nail to suppress it.

it made you tremble to hear how johnny desired you just as much. he had always felt unobtainable; always danced too far from your grasp and was always bigger than what you knew you could handle — his lovers had always looked divinely; pretty, yes, but fierce in their own right like they knew how to live without johnny; and you know they could, because they didn’t need johnny the way you do. they didn’t look at johnny like you do, like he hung the stars with those thick and aged hands of his.

but as you stood there, feeling every word punctured onto your skin, you couldn’t help but begin to cry, the tears springing from your eyes to slip down your cheeks. johnny rubbed your back, soothing and gentle.

“i wanted t’take you – make y’all mine,” he whispered.

you hiccuped, shaky from the weight of your hunger, and nuzzled close. your hands fell from fisting his hair so you could claw at the sharp corners of his shoulder blades, feeling the muscles there rippling, all taut when he bent forward and kissed you.

“please,” you began, feeling your mind thinning because you wanted more. more. more. more. “i can be– johnny, s’always been you. nobody else but you.”

you tugged him away, cupping his jaw and forcing him to look at you. and god, johnny looked so devastatingly beautiful, his eyes all furrowed and his cheeks all flushed, and his lips spit-sheened.

“fuck me,” you whispered, tired of dancing around.

he groaned, something that sounded so pained, before he was tugging you with him, up the stairs and skirting past your room and into his.

you’ve never been in johnny’s room before, just as he had never been in yours since you moved in, and until now you still don’t know what you had been expecting upon walking in, but the smell of johnny wafting through was almost gut-punching. he smelled so close, like he was everywhere — surrounding you from the ground-up, dousing every pore with him until even your mouth felt full.

and johnny, he smelt like home.

there were no more words uttered as he stripped you off your pyjamas, sure fingers making their way down the buttons, unlatching them from the hemmed slits. you watched with heavy eyes, blinking slowly like everything had been wrung out of you, leaving you pliant and soft. johnny hummed, appreciative, and mapped kisses from your heaving chest, teeth nipping at the fat, before moving on, sprinkling every expanse of your skin with such reverence.

your hands were balled to your chest when he reached the jut of your belly, his chin hovering just above your crotch. johnny flicked up his darkened eyes at you, asking silently.

you gave him a nod, not trusting your own voice too.

johnny’s eyes had turned into slits, pleased, and hefted himself up just enough to be able to fit his hands on your hips and tugged your pants down. you shivered, the warmth in his room not enough to suppress the winter chill, and it made you buck into him. johnny comforted you with a quiet shh, rubbing his palm on the pudge of your thigh in soothing circles.

you don’t know why that touch was what did it for you, but soft sobs finally spilled from your mouth, scrunching up the desire into something undeniably frail. johnny didn’t startle though, like he knew that you had been wounding up to this tipping point, and instead continued to touch you tenderly, almost like if he could, he would cradle you close.

“i love you,” you said, sniffling, because that was the crux of your vulnerability, right?

you love him. god, you love him.

you’ve loved him since the day he sat you down for dinner and told you that you’ve got nothing to worry about, not anymore and not with him around. you’ve loved him since the day he flipped the den so you can have your own space for work; don’t mind the fact that he didn’t know if you were going to even stay, just that he insisted that you deserved that room either way. you’ve loved him since that swiss chocolate, since that cup of coffee, since he’s begun filling your painfully lonely days with his care.

you’ve loved him since and now—

“oh, mo graidh,” johnny breathed out. “i love you too.” he kissed your thigh, scruff ticklish. “gu siorraidh is gu brath.”

you wanted to ask what that meant but johnny was already moving, sitting back up to strip out of his own shirt. you trailed your eyes down his body, capturing your trembling lips between your teeth at how breathtaking he was — soft with fat but still heavy with muscles, fuzzy with hair with the smattering pooling just underneath his belly button before trailing down to where they were hidden underneath his pants.

you twitched before finally braving enough to reach out and brush your knuckle over the indents of his softened abs. johnny hummed, something that curled with appreciation, before covering your hand with his and holding it there.

“all of me s’yers, hen,” he said with such finality that you felt it settle deep within the marrows of your bones.

you nodded, emotionally spent and johnny lilted something else in scottish, so soft that it was almost a croon. you let him manhandle you — pushing your hips up so he could slot a pillow under for your back; you were so malleable to his touch as he took over, bending once again for a kiss while his fingers danced past the laces of your panties and into the damp heat of your pussy.

you moaned, eyelashes fluttering when he pressed one in, so careful and slow, but you were so wet that it slid in with no resistance, gobbling it up knuckle-deep. johnny had groaned like he could feel your rising euphoria, before nosing along your temple as he wiggled the finger around, stroking at your walls. you wondered if he was going to tease but then he was pulling it out, only to plunge two in the next thrust, curling and stretching, and oh—

oh, ssss’good.

you don’t even remember how long he’d been spearing you with his thicker fingers, rough and long and reaching far, far deeper than you could with your own, but you laid there, sobbing, feeling your slick slip out, pooling, making a mess of your thighs and his sheets. johnny had moved from suckling on your neck to taking a nipple in his mouth, teeth softly gnashing at the bud. you felt like you were on fire, burning from your core, aching for a release.

“cum f’me, m’eudail,” johnny groaned, breathless himself, his cock poking underneath his boxers, the fabric all wet from where his tip was, leaking pearled pre-. “let me see you.”

“johnny, i’m gonna– i’m–!” you squealed, legs jumping, squeezing johnny’s sides as you jolted, hips twitching at the bloating ecstasy. johnny just pushed down on your thigh, not letting up with the pace of his fingers. he was fucking you so hard that his hand’s slapping against your skin, his palm grinding down on your clit just right, and the pleasure sizzled into something biting. into something that was almost painful.

it was catastrophic, pulling you into two directions. johnny’s everywhere — his scent in your lungs, his fingers deep in your pussy, his mouth hot and wet on your tits, and like this, like this, you felt yourself breaking.

ripping—

then, your orgasm was punched out of you.

your senses had gone awry — throat throbbing as you cried out, your eyes going blind as they rolled into your skull at the final curl of johnny’s fingers. white noise filled your ears, and it was like you were submerged underneath water, wading through the crashing tides of your climax.

you came back to johnny peppering your face with soft kisses, whispering something you couldn’t decipher past the croon of your name and something like you did good and so beautiful. he’d already pulled his fingers out, and used both arms to cradle you close. you felt so empty — god, that wasn’t even his cock, yet — but your body thrummed pleasantly, almost like the itch was finally scratched.

“johnny?” you puffed out, voice all scratchy and weak.

“i’m here, bon. i’m here.”

you hummed, curling into his chest, head pillowed by his arm. you wanted to ask what about his own euphoria, but johnny seemed so content just laying there with you, not really desperate or needy, so you let it go, losing the battle against your drowsiness before finally slipping into a quiet sleep.

johnny’s there for your graduation, carrying a big bouquet of only eden roses. you didn’t even know that those particular ones were expensive until someone from the graduation party oohed and aahed to their friend.

your cheeks burned when their friend chirped, “well someone’s clearly loved.”

you know that what they said would have had johnny agreeing loudly if he was allowed in the lineup because he is never one to be shy about what he feels; or not anymore, anyway. he loves so fully and openly that you still wonder why it took the two of you so long to get together, but the days since then had just been kind and filling that you have long forgotten how it was to not be with him.

they’re going to call your name soon, and your stomach swoops, excitement and anxiety mixing in a dizzying tandem.

you’re graduating with a bachelor’s degree in psychology and a diploma in early childhood education, and this is not where you thought you would be when you first started university, but it’s the happiest you have ever been. and sure much of your poli-sci courses were scrapped when you changed majors, and that’s also a lot of money wasted, but you have three job opportunities lined up already and it’s like the seismic shift in your life had finally corrected itself.

(your mom said she’s sorry that she and your pa couldn’t come, but you’ve stopped longing for their acceptance and told her it was fine.

there’s a date saved in your calendar, though, for a brunch with her and that was enough.)

you ducked into johnny’s arms when the graduation ceremony ended, careful of the bouquet he’s holding.

“congratulations, bonnie,” he says, a hearty laugh rumbling from his chest. “christ, i’m so, so proud of you.”

you never pegged yourself for a crybaby, but tears begin to pool in the corners of your eyes at the weight of his words.

“thank you,” you reply, soft and raw, and honest.

johnny pulls you in, his lips warm as they’re pressed on your forehead.

and this, just like this, you know things will only get better from here on out.

#suns #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #soap x reader #cod x reader #f!reader #read tags!!

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taylor-titmouse · 10 months ago

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hey i want to talk about how you should be promoting your work as an erotic author/illustrator

i'm writing this up because the marketing aspect of my work as an erotic author/illustrator is a science to me, and also because i'm the guy who gets unreasonably annoyed when i see other creators not properly advertising their work. you presumably want to make money off your work. this post will be written under the assumption you want to make money off your work but are doing a bad job at it. it will be very confrontational. if you read this and feel attacked you're right and i am attacking you.

this is geared toward selling erotic comics/writing/books/art as products. i will probably write more than one post about this subject so if i didn't touch on something you want to know more about, comment/send me an ask and i'll keep it in mind for the next one.

i will start with my first and least specific but most important point:

DON'T GET FUCKING CUTE

hi are you paying attention. i'm gripping you by the sides of your face. do not get fucking cute with what you are trying to sell. you are not a big enough property to get cute, nobody LIKES it when big properties get cute, and you are selling porn. you have to own this. you have to be up front about this. don't be tongue in cheek, don't be all teehee i wonder what this could be~, don't be secretive. you are selling a product. you have to fucking act like it. you are an adult selling pornography to other adults. i am GRIPPING your HEAD you NEED to understand this.

and to be clear when i say 'cute' i mean coy. i don't mean cutesy, as in the aesthetic. you can be as hello kitty pastel ten emojis a post uwu as you like when you're building your audience and generating hype. but when you start trying to sell, don't be vague, don't be sarcastic, don't mislabel your work as a joke and assume everyone is on it. because they're not.

you must always assume 75% of the people seeing the thing you are advertising have no fucking idea who you are. and that includes a huge chunk of the people who already follow you. they do not know who you are or what you've been working on for two months or why they should care about it. they just got here. somebody just reposted it. they are seeing it for the first time. most people are only looking at social media for a tiny chunk of their day. they are not keeping up with you. you cannot get cute about what you are trying to sell because nobody knows what it is until you tell them.

okay are you still with me. we are going to talk about clarity now.

YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT IT IS

good lord the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's comic or book and had no idea what's actually in it or what it's about. who are the characters? why should i care about them? what do they do in it? what is the premise of this thing you want me to spend $5 on? why would you not tell me? i'm shaking you again. please i have to know what i'm buying i only have so much money to spend on porn.

porn, arguably more than any other genre, relies on knowing exactly what is in it. you do not want to surprise your readers with a kink they were unaware of! and on the flip side, you do not want to miss out on your target audience! if your book contains a hot spider babe laying eggs in an elf, you have to say so. not just so people who don't want to read about eggs know it isn't for them, but so the people who are egg crazy can see that and go "oh fuck YES i love EGGS here is my $5 and an extra $2 tip for catering to me specifically". a contents/features list is as much an advertisement as it is a warning!

as for re: who the characters are and why should i care, i'm sorry but you need to learn how to write sales copy. you have to write blurbs. you have to get good at the shit that goes on the back of a book. we all hate it but we have to do it. i want to know who the characters are and what the context is. i, personally, am not interested in contemporary stories as much as fantasy and historical. please tell me what genre this porn exists in so i know if it aesthetically appeals to me. pull some books off your shelves and see how they do it. hell man go look at mine.

while you're there, note that every single book of mine has a sample of what's in it. this feels like such a no-brainer to me but again! the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's work and they don't show me what their work looks like! you gotta give me the first page or two! just enough that i know if i like the way your writing sounds, or the way you draw your comics! i don't know you! i am not going to trust that you're good at what you do just based on a cover. the cover is to get me to this step, it is not the only step. you have to show me that you're worth spending my money on!

to put it less cynically, you want to catch my interest. you want me to go 'oh i want to see more of this', you want me to go 'ahh i want to know where this goes!' you need to get me invested and craving more. earn my $5!!!

YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT EASY TO GIVE YOU MONEY

hey go look at your bio right now. go look at your pinned post. do you have a link to your patreon there? do you have a link to your itchio/gumroad/whatever? do i have to click more than once to get to the places you want me to go to give you money? why? why are you making me click twice? have we learned nothing from every website making you click an extra time when they make some stupid UI update and how much it pisses us off? i have already given up, i have forgotten you, i am not giving you my $5 today. put your links in the easiest places to get to them.

god literally as i was writing this post i went to go find somebody's itchio to see how they described their work and it was not anywhere on their profile. grabbing you and shaking you PUT THE LINK WHERE I CAN FIND IT. don't make it hard! make it easy! i am a dickhead sitting on the toilet scrolling, saw your post, and was interested enough to read further. but you made me go to your bio to find your linktree and oops i have already gone back to my timeline to look at the boobies in the next post. stop wasting precious bio space on DNIs and put your fuckin links there!!!

this is more for the twitter people, but: just put the link in the damn post. just say the word commission. just say it's for patreon. "wuh wuh the algorithm" it is not the damn algorithm it's that everybody hates advertising and nobody wants to retweet ads. putting slashes in the words doesn't do anything and you look like a fool. i have posted so much art that says it's 'a commission for ___" and it did exactly as good as any other art despite having the word commission in it. and by doing the slashes you just made it impossible for anybody to search your account for your commission information (which should be at the VERY LEAST in a post under your pinned tweet if you're not actively posting about them being open).

okay that went on a tangent i'm going to back to the point of putting the link in the tweet. put it in the first post. not in the first reply. don't tell them to go to your bio. put it in the post people are actually going to share. it's fine to put more information in the thread but people are only ever going to share the first post. so put the link there. you have to make it easy. putting links in tweets can hurt you algorithmically, even in the replies. so you're better off having it in the post that actually gets seen and shared. i don't want to open the tweet and scroll to get to your sales page where i ASSUME you will have put all the information anyway. put it in the tweet that just got retweeted by itself onto my dash!

also you have to share it a ton of times. i repost my shit every few hours when i'm trying to push a new product. as i said before people are not 24/7 looking at their timelines. they missed it the first time. they missed it the second time. they didn't get paid yet that week but they were after the eighth time and you reminded them again so they finally bought it. that i will still get sales every time i repost a book ad weeks after release says there are always people who missed it, or who only just showed up.

abandon your pride and shill. shills pay their bills. anyone who gets annoyed about it isn't giving you money in the first place. don't worry about looking like a sell out. don't apologize for plugging your own work. post about it often, post about it in different ways. post about it. post about it. you are not going to make money if people don't know you have something to sell them. if you want to make a career out of it, you need to act like it.

I DON'T HAVE A FOURTH POINT

kisses your forehead. i'm sorry for yelling at you. i've been making and publishing and selling adult art for the past two-three years and have got myself to the point where it pays my rent, and i got there by paying attention to what does and does not work.

please do your best to make money. i want you to make money.

as i said above i plan to write more posts on this subject, such as cover design, how to actually write sales copy, and best practices with running a patreon, but if there's things you would want to hear more about leave a comment or send an ask! i will probably be less aggressive on future topics. these are just things that have grinded my gears for a grip.

#tt talks writing #tt talks drawing

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butterflytint · 6 days ago

Text

in your web of lies - s. gojo

summary: as a devoted student of science, you put all your time just to that. Misfortune falls upon you when you are faced with being in the same class as satoru gojo, your longtime academic rival and essentially the bane of your existence. It goes one step further when his strange behavior seems to get even stranger as the web slinging hero of New York suddenly swings into your life. . . not that there's any correlation.

pairing: spiderman!gojo x fem!reader

warnings: college au, excessive banter, guns, violence, death/bloodshed mentioned, sexual content, smut, porn with plot, mentions of SA, p in v, oral sex, missionary, doggy style, riding, little sprinkle of dirty talk

a/n: this is based off the spiderman gojo art by @ aliyartss on instagram!

First weeks of any semester are always brutal.

The sound of traffic clogging and polluting the streets, brutal. The beginning of ringing headaches from the lack of sleep, brutal. The start of all-nighters to complete homework and study, brutal.

That’s just a small piece of the brutality that follows college students.

At least that’s what most students can relate to.

You glance over at Shoko, next to you as you settle into class. Being miles ahead of schedule was always way better than being even a second behind. So walking into the small lecture room ten minutes before class plays in your favor even if it was Professor Yaga’s class, the same professor you’ve had for two past semesters already.

“You look a little annoyed,” Shoko comments while flipping through her notebook.

“Sorry—I had a bit of a fight last night with my Dad,” you sigh out, shaking your head. Your finger slides along the edge of your own notes. “And I guess I’m just a little stressed about everything. The JJ Tech guys are having me spend extra hours and I can hardly get an hour to myself in the day.”

“Well chin up, we’ve got a long lab ahead of us today,” Shoko tapped playfully against your chin, her eyes down on her papers.

“Hm, right,” you mumble, eyes drooping at the chalkboard. “Wonder how you’re getting through this lab by yourself.”

“Hey, Satoru is my lab partner. You shouldn’t worry too much about that,” she chides. Shoko has a habit of not looking at you when she’s in the middle of doing something while conversating. “You seem like you have something else on your mind. You wanna talk about your dad?”

You eyeball the warmup problem he has on the board, jotting it down in your notebook. Your mind races with that conversation you had with your father just last night. How he wanted to have an assigned detail with you on campus, safely getting you to and from class. You have enough to worry about with finally shifting to yours and Utahime’s new apartment in a few short weeks without having to think about your dad.

Your impending argument was scheduled to continue once you saw him again since you didn’t even have a fighting chance when he got a call about a high-profile criminal striking again. You wonder just what could have transpired last night, apparently there were witnesses that sighted him.

“Not really.”

His fingers trail down the side of his torso, eyes screwing shut when he grazes that sensitive expanse of skin. Throbbing mercilessly, he hisses through clenched teeth, opening his eyes and glancing at the banged-up mirror on his wall.

That skintight suit was still clinging to his body like glue. He tears his mask off his head, tousling his white locks in the process. His head tips back when his gloved fingers brush over that tender place on his side.

A series of slow, deliberate breaths travel past his lips. Mindlessly, he reaches for a vial of painkillers. He doesn’t even count how many he tips into his waiting palm before popping them into his mouth and chasing them down bitterly with a bottle of water.

The boy grunts out as he falls back onto his bed, hoping he could sleep the soreness off before class tomorrow.

RING! RING!

Those eyes of his that had just shut after eons of forcing himself to stay alert and prepared for any attack were cruelly wrenched open once more.

RING! RING!

Another blasted alarm sounded from across his room, an alarm clock he simply can’t punch to snooze as he’d already bought a new one after abusing his previous two.

Satoru sat up, wincing at the sting on his side.

He groaned, gruffly peeling that suit off his body. Thoughts of the day ahead warped his mind. He had spent all night traipsing rooftops, swinging through the streets in pursuit of a gang of sloppy bank robbers.

He usually had fun trailing and taking down thuggish rogues, picking them off and bringing them to justice ever so casually. He got to feel the rush of the midnight air as he swung from building to building, between the streets. Arms and legs easily stretching and freely moving without a care in the world.

He loves it.

Last night, he had run that stolen van off the road without much effort. Everything went swimmingly until he had foolishly been launched into a brick wall mid-chase.

That had caused him to lose a bit of coordination during the fight that ensued shortly after. After stringing them up with his webs, he had swung back home only to stop yet another mugger on the way.

Once he had finally returned the woman’s stolen purse and made sure she got home safely, he gave himself the same protocol.

He tries to rush out of the apartment as soon as possible. He had enough on his plate to worry about with school, he could hardly keep up with his nighttime activities.

No, not that. His work as a vigilante made it difficult to have even a moment to himself. Let alone the fact his internship at JJ Technologies started earlier this month as well. So yes, he has enough on his plate with no room to spare for the breakfast his conscience had suggested.

“Yo! Suguru!” Satoru calls. He is jolted out of his thoughts when he approaches his best friend right by the theology building.

“Oh, what’s up?” Suguru turned around. “You watch the game last night?”

“Wha—no,” Satoru shakes his head, pushing his glasses up. He sheepishly sighs, “You know I’ve been busy with the internship and with homework.”

“Oh right,” Suguru mumbles teasingly. “The internship? Speaking of, did you see the news? They’re saying the man who banged those guys up pretty good last night was the mysterious Spiderman.”

“Will you shut up?” Satoru gasps, almost slapping him.

Of course, Suguru knew. He found out in a freak accident only a week after Satoru had been bitten. The freak accident being Satoru forgot to lock his bedroom door while changing out of his costume and his best friend walking in.

“Relax. No one knows,” Suguru reassures, he takes a sip of his coffee. “Only a small population of the public are still choosing to be delusional.”

“Yeah, delusional enough to believe Spiderman doesn’t exist,” Satoru scoffs.

“No, delusional enough to believe he does,” Suguru corrects harshly. “If I didn’t walk in on you half naked with that suit on and saw how you shot out a web before you realized I was in the room, I would never have believed those photos I saw in the news either.”

“Spiderman is a household name now whether you like it or not,” Satoru self-righteously points at himself with his thumb. “You wouldn’t believe how big of a fan the ladies are.”

Suguru shakes his head as he eyes his student portal on his phone. “Fuck, I have a history quiz today.”

“Shit, me too,” Satoru grunts, shaking his head as he walks past yet another sorority bake sale on his way down the main streets of campus. “Wait—we’re in the same class.”

“Oh—yeah,” Suguru fumbles with his phone as he points at Satoru. “I think I might ask Nanami to let me cheat off him—Haiba won’t mind but let’s face it, he’s not the brightest—Wait, you never mentioned what exactly happened last night.”

“Toji Fushiguro’s on the run. There was a sighting of him last night and I went to track him down but no luck. Then there was a bank heist on West 7th, I wish I got to fucking sleep after. Being flung against a brick wall is not as fun as it sounds. Fuck—wait I have class!” Satoru interjects, darting off in the middle of the conversation, leaving Suguru with a look of disappointment on his face.

“I have the same class,” Suguru frowns.

Yaga has always been quite the authoritarian, he knows what to expect from one of his star pupils as he strolls into class with a lazy smile on his face, ten minutes late.

“How nice of you to join us, Satoru,” Yaga’s tone isn’t as sweet as his words. “I should count myself lucky you showed up at all today, no less right before we worked on our lab assignment.”

That hand you have your cheek resting on slides up to palm at your forehead, hoping to soothe the forthcoming headache once that boy settles into his seat.

“We’re switching lab partners today,” Yaga declares, pen in hand as he scribbles and crosses out names on his seating chart. “I know you must’ve been comfortable with your partners from last semester, but I’d like you to find your name on the board and sit accordingly. This partner is who you’ll be working with for the final project.”

Satoru was perfectly fine working with Shoko. Their scientific caliber was on par with one another and despite the fact they butted heads quite often, they somehow managed to do quite well on their labs.

His mind traps him in praying he doesn’t end up with Yuki that he almost doesn’t realize the fact you were his new partner. He whips his head to the right, seeing your brows raise as you glance back at him.

Seriously? Him?

No one can relate to how brutal it is having Satoru Gojo of all people as your classmate in your organic chemistry class.

Yeah sure, give you an assignment of reporting the development and properties of organic photovoltaic cells for renewable energy applications or even deciphering the molar mass of your father’s whiskey collection, you could make sense of it.

You could never make sense of this kid, however.

Satoru Gojo.

The irritating kid you’ve been battling to beat out for the highest exam score since middle school. The kid that ran into class late and hardly seemed all that present but still landed a score almost as high as yours every time. The kid that sat at the back of class, dozing off during lab. The kid that spent a decent chunk of senior year playing Digimon on his phone and still antagonized you before every science test you had.

That kid you thought you wouldn’t have to worry about after high school but were proved severely wrong when you saw him on your campus your first semester. That kid you hoped you wouldn’t have to run into anywhere else but still did somehow where you had been interning.

If there was a chemical formula to understand why you couldn’t stand him, your list of grievances would have to be simplified to fit on one page.

You’re seriously contemplating on marching up to Yaga and demanding a switch in partners. Someone else. Anyone else.

Trying to change Yaga’s mind on anything though, was a feat greater than what any scientist could accomplish.

Heaving a sigh, you plop your books down on the table. There was this severity in your movements that wove seamlessly into propriety. He peeks over at your color-coordinated notes all lined out in neat handwriting.

Yeah, he’s been competing with you in school for years. It’s not like he meant to, he was just great at just about everything he did. It’s not his fault!

He knew you couldn’t stand him, and he enjoyed that for some reason. Getting under your skin with quick quips were designed to be much more fun because of that. Since he is on the clock every hour of the day, he needs to let out his stress somehow. Punching bad guys is not enough anymore.

“Look at your notes,” Satoru cheeses, flipping through your book. “All shiny and pretty. You know, if you put more effort in, you could look the same.”

You shove his arm, snatching your book back from him, “Shut up. Don’t make me mad. Words can’t explain how pissed I am already.”

“Aw, you know I’m kidding,” he grins mischievously. “You’re not that bad to look at.”

You press your lips together as you inhale heavily. Your eyes raise to look dead straight at the front of the class before you turn your head to face him.

He catches that fire in your gaze that he’s not even seen in the most vicious of criminals and mutants he’s gone up against.

“I don’t get why Yaga didn’t call Suguru out for being late either,” Satoru frowns, facing forward.

“Because Suguru isn’t late every day,” you point. “You are. And half the time, you leave early. It baffles me how you still pass all your classes.”

“Is someone jealous?” Satoru smiles.

As you shake your head, you look down at your notes. You’ve known Satoru for many years, but he was always just a classmate. He was also always the classmate you would barely beat out to get the highest marks in science or any other class. The classmate that would get under your skin way too often.

There was something about him that made you pay close attention to him.

“Oh shit!” one of the students in class shouts out, eyes glued to his phone. Needless to say, he’s garnered the attention of the entire class. “There’s a robbery going on right now at the bank downtown! Six-gun men have all the customers and staff held hostage!”

This earns a series of nervous gasps and prayers from the students. The hair on the back of Satoru’s neck stands up and he’s still in his seat as his peers flock toward the lab table of the student watching the news live stream.

“Wonder when Spiderman’s going to show up,” one of his classmates ponder aloud.

“Nah, he can’t do shit. You think a clown in tights is going to take down a fucking group of men with guns?” another kid snarks, causing Satoru to all but roll his eyes as he stands up.

Ah, the everlasting and everchanging debate as to whether the wall crawling vigilante was a menace or a savior of society.

If he wasted his time worrying so much about what people thought about him, he’d never get a single thing done. He drowns out their discussion as he strides to the door with his mission clear in his mind: Save those hostages.

“Alright boys! Glad we wrapped this up!” Satoru, or should one say, Spiderman dusts off his hands ever so casually.

He crouches down, leveling with the leader of the gang who happened to be tied up thanks to Satoru’s expertise webbing. He breathes freely with the knowledge that the hostages have rushed out of the bank, straight into the arms of their worried loved ones outside and the police.

When a vial of green in the pocket of one of the tattooed thug’s glints in the light, Satoru reaches to pull it out. He squints through his mask at the bottle of green, “What do we have here?”

As expected, the thug spits out, “None of your fucking business, you bug.”

“Quiet, will you?” Satoru harshly smacks the man’s forehead.

“Robbing a bank on a busy day like this for me?” Satoru tuts, a menacing lilt in his joke. “You should feel lucky I haven’t strung you upside down in your underwear out on the street lamps. But I’ve got somewhere to be unfortunately, so have fun in jail!”

With that, Satoru extends his arms out and a thick web sprouts out in the direction of the tall buildings lining the streets. If it was any other day, any other time of day, he would’ve stuck around. Spewed out some more quippy remarks, had a bit more fun with the goons.

But alas, he must get back in time before class ends. He knew the twenty minutes he had vanished for were going to raise questions.

He was absolutely correct.

“Satoru, where the hell were you?” Yaga all but yells at the boy stumbling back in. “Class is over.”

The entire class has their attention steering over to the late boy. He knew what he had to say, the lie didn’t need to be ridiculous but he knew regardless, he would still sound utterly stupid. He did not particularly give a fuck though.

“Little boy’s room,” Satoru casually responds, not a speck of shame in his rather comical answer.

This has the entire class locked in a deadly silence. That is before they split into a fit of boisterous laughter. Satoru revels in the fact he’s defused the tension he suspected he may experience.

You narrow your eyes, eyeing Satoru as he trudges over to his seat, tugging his collar into place. You let your eyes fall to the tabletop, looking over your work.

Typical. He leaves for God knows what and you’re stuck doing his work. If this isn’t precedent enough to request a new partner, you don’t know what is.

He’s not said a single word to you yet . . . How odd. You expect him to do no less than tease the living hell out of you or ask if you missed him.

All that swarms his mind however is what the hell is in this vial?

“What the hell is in this vial?” Suguru murmurs quietly as he inspects the glass tube.

“Beats me,” Satoru replies, swiping the bottle off him. “I need to figure that out.”

“Don’t you think that maybe you should’ve handed it over to the police?” Suguru asks, the sound of fellow classmates typing away on their laptops and chattering away in the campus library buzzes in the background.

“Police won’t do shit,” Satoru bites back, rolling his eyes. “If law enforcement was capable of anything, don’t you think that there wouldn’t be a need for Spiderman?”

“What about Spiderman?” Haiba butts in unannounced.

Satoru nearly jumps five feet in the air at the sudden intrusion. His six eyes that worked in his favor as a sixth sense to alert him of danger have helped him tremendously in combat time and time again, but not so much with nosy classmates.

Quickly pocketing the substance, he looks at Haiba, “None of your business.”

“Are you kidding? I spent all afternoon looking for footage from today’s robbery—I got nothing,” Haiba whines, flailing his arms in the air.

“I heard it was pretty cool,” Satoru boasts pridefully, earning a well-deserved elbow to the gut from Suguru.

Haiba trots off to go bother Nanami before Suguru faces his best friend again. “Oh fuck. Y/n is coming this way. Good luck.”

The vigilante’s eyes widen when he recognizes your stern, no-nonsense face and stride. Everyone is well aware of what that means, your kind and lighthearted behavior is put on hold in favor of your stern approach to your academics.

He half expects you to create a scene in the library but he knows you better than that. You never openly got angry, the worst he’s seen you do is roll your eyes. It’s one of the reasons he pokes fun at you as much as possible, hoping to see how he can make you crack.

Yet, you never do. You hold notebooks and files close to your chest as you march to a halt three feet away from him. Indifferently, you pull out a packet and hold it out for him.

“Since your bladder has never-ending issues, I did your part of the lab today,” you chide like you have a myriad of other things on your mind.

“Shit—you did not have to do any of this,” Satoru knows he should be frowning, but he’s not. A little leer spreads on his face, eyes wide and glimmering through the lens of those glasses he absolutely had no more use for since the day he was bit by that spider.

“Don’t bail on me again. Then I won’t have to do it,” you purse your lips at him before you turn around.

He is left there with nothing else to do but embarrassingly watch you walk away, clutching his lab report in his hand.

“Hold on,” Satoru mumbles to Suguru as he watches you sift between the aisles of shelves.

Before either of them know it, he’s making his way to the aisle you are in. He’s eyeing you up and down almost skeptically, eyes lingering far longer than they should.

“Can I help you?” you quiz quite impertinently, your right hand pulling out a heavy book from the biochemistry section.

“Why did you do my part?” Satoru tips his chin down, a crease forming between his silver brows.

“Because you . . . didn’t do it,” you slowly iterate, grasping the book with both your hands as you flip through the pages.

“Well, duh, but why?” Satoru repeats. “You didn’t have to do it. I ran out of class and left it all on you—you shouldn’t have done it.”

You take a deep breath, slamming the book shut, “If you really think I did it for you, you really don’t deserve to be in the same class as me at all. I did it so I don’t have to rely on you to get the work done. I’d rather have the work done right than have it half-assed. And here I thought you were much more clever than that.”

“I’m not stupid,” he smirks. “Just confused about a lot of the things you do sometimes.”

“Yeah, because you don’t know me,” you say, sliding that book back into the open slot on the shelf. You look up, reaching for another book that is placed well above your head.

“I know you. I know you’re your father’s daughter,” Satoru’s statement is playfully delivered yet it strikes you like a bus. His fingers stroke the spine of the book you were reaching for, relishing the fact you couldn’t reach it. He looks down at you, tugging the book out and holding it in his big hands. “You might just be stricter than the captain himself.”

“Why are you talking like you know my father?” you glare, folding your arms.

“Seen his interviews on the news. He’s one tough cookie—but it only makes sense when you’re a cop, huh?” he has a lilt in his head.

“Why are you saying stupid things?” you question, narrowing your eyes at him. “I already have enough on my mind, I don’t need you badgering me with nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense, it’s my professional opinion as your partner,” Satoru holds the book out with a ridiculously charming smile.

“Lab partner,” you fix his statement, reaching for the book but he pulls it back out of your reach, stupid grin still on his face. “Don’t play games with me, I have to get to work now, and you have to get there too.”

You pry the book from his hands and stride off before he can annoy you further. Satoru’s head turns, following you march off. He’s not sure why he’s trapped in staring at you for so long.

“I’m guessing you plan on finding out on your own as to what’s in that bottle,” Suguru interjects in the middle of Satoru’s wandering mind, popping up in the aisle.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Satoru fishes in his pocket, hoping that the touch of his cool fingers on the glass will telepathically reveal its identity to him. “If I had the equipment to do it on my own . . . it would be so much fucking easier.”

Suguru gapes at him like he’s stupid, “Hello? You intern at the biggest scientific research facility in the city.”

Satoru’s brows raise and the corners of his mouth turn down, weighing the possible next route to his answer.

“Okay, you have to log the results in the system like this,” you instruct your team. “Then you move on to the next step. Trust me you don’t want to forget logging that data, it could entirely throw off the process.”

You’ve been interning at JJ Technologies since last summer which has done nothing short of drain you of any free time whatsoever. It’s only been several weeks since you were moved up to lead a fresh batch of young interns. Luckily, you haven’t had to deal with teaching them in the laboratory with the equipment, just basic information and note-taking thus far.

That unfortunately was only the first of four hours at the facility. The next three hours, you would be holed up in the lab, inspecting and experimenting with nanotechnology. As tiring as it is, it is just as rewarding.

Knowing the amount of good that can be done with this research and work was a brilliant means of motivation. Society has advanced already as it is—the world of medicine has benefited greatly—billions of lives have the chance to improve. How could anyone give up on that?

Thoughts of what homework assignments you have yet to submit reign your brain. Hours and hours of straining your mind to intake as much information and apply it all in the lab was making you want nothing more than to crawl under your covers and call it a week.

With a hefty breath, you take a well-deserved recess to the vending machine. Hoping that this little trip for a snack can hold a candle to the sleep you oh so desire.

Satoru knows his assigned place of work is four levels down. He also is aware that his group had been dismissed ten minutes ago and he should be swinging his merry way through the streets to scout for trouble.

He is also entirely aware that he should not be on the twenty-something floor that had a chance of having an empty lab right about now.

Swiping his boss’s ID card is far too easy, shooting an inconspicuous web at any cameras of interest is just as simple.

The hard part is deciphering what is in this damn vial. The lights are dim inside the particular lab he steps into. A breath of relief pushes out of his lungs as he pulls the small bottle from his pocket, circling the stations to get to the specific equipment he needs.

There’s a limited amount of liquid in the vial, so he knows he must handle this process with care and precision. The story would be different if he had another vial or two.

You watch almost lifelessly as a bar of candy and a canned coffee drop down, landing with a dull thud. Mindlessly, you reach through the bottom flap, hearing the faint hinge as you pull out your restitution for break-free work.

Closing and harshly forcing your eyes back open, you try to keep your mind alert as you march on back to the lab to clean up. When you open the door, you’re not expecting this boy to whip his head up at you like a deer in headlights.

“Gojo?” you furrow your brows, one hand still on the door and the other clutching your food.

Gojo is stunned into silence, a laughable silence. When he says nothing, you tip your head down, “What are you doing here?”

“I just had some work,” Satoru quickly lies. “My manager needed me to look at something. I know you’re pretty happy to see me—your face says it all.”

“Oh, does it? Aren’t you supposed to be on the 20th floor?” you quiz, left eye twitching.

In most situations, when Satoru’s backed into a corner, he can somehow flip his way out of there or even sweettalk whoever he needed to. But he can’t explain why he actually feels bad lying to you, it makes his head whirl. “Uh—yeah, but I had to use some of the equipment up here.”

Squinting skeptically, you near him slowly. As you do, Satoru can’t help but gulp. He’s not sure what it is he should focus on. The fact he needs to come up with a way to convince you to not report him? Or the fact you are only a couple inches to his left, looking over his shoulder? The fact you look so adorable in a lab coat?

“What is that?” you peer down at the vial, noticing he has already placed a drop of that substance down on a microscope slide.

“Not sure,” Satoru shrugs. “I haven’t got the faintest clue.”

You continue staring at the chemical concoction, you flick your gaze at him, “Mind if I take a look?”

“Go for it,” Satoru shuffles a couple inches over, giving you enough room to peer into the eyepiece of the microscope.

He can’t help but tautly swallow, hardly able to pay attention because of how sweet you smell. He has to stop himself from telling you just that but he can’t let it get to your head. As effortlessly as he spins webs, he only hopes he’s half as graceful when feeding you some half-assed answer as to just what this chemical was and that his manager most definitely would give him such a compound.

“Hmm,” you hum, slowly turning the dial on the side of the instrument to lift and then focus what was in the slide. “Figuring out what is it shouldn’t be too tricky. I just need to measure the resonance frequency by breaking the substance down a bit more. Then determining the chemical properties shouldn’t be too tricky.”

Satoru’s brows lift and the edge of his lips turn down, amused clearly. “Wow.”

“What?” you blink.

“I always forget how smart you are,” he says airily. When you shoot him a look that seems to be a hybrid of threatening and offense, his nose crinkles and his glasses shift accordingly on his face, “That came out very wrong. I just meant—”

“So this is why you broke into my lab?” you cut him off, still squinting down at the substance.

“I didn’t break in,” Satoru defends himself. “I just figured no one would notice.”

“Why don’t you check over the logic in that again,” you suggest, eyes glancing up at him. “It’s hard to believe you’re the guy who almost beat me out for valedictorian.”

“And why’s that?” Gojo tilts his head, leaning his elbows on the table. It leaves you eyeing him from head to toe as inconspicuously as possible. Sometimes you forget how tall he is. The fact he towers over you serves as a friendly reminder he’s not just any old geeky kid from school.

Before you can give him an answer, his phone buzzes. He shoots a glance down at it, his pretty features sinking. The program he had compiled with Suguru to tune into the police’s radio communications to pick up on any crime alerts had pinged with notifications on his phone. There was a robbery currently taking place at a jewelry store three streets away.

“Shit—my aunt needs me to pick her up from her cooking class,” Satoru quickly lies, blinking unsteadily as he faces you. “It’s kind of far and not safe for her to ride the train by herself. I have to go. Sorry for bothering you—”

“Wait—” you hold a hand up, earning a wide-eyed look from him. It’s kind of endearing how earnest he sounds. “How about you go, and I’ll keep looking at this for you? Once I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”

“You don’t have to,” Satoru frowns, sliding his backpack on, his Spiderman suit nestled neatly inside.

“It’s no problem. You go—don’t keep your aunt waiting,” you beckon him to get a move on. “I’ll see you at school.”

There you go again, being so incontestably kind yet being so severe while doing so. It’s when you crack a hint of a smile to ease him that he actually does as you say. That must be the first he’s seen you sincerely look at him.

Satoru rushes out the door and you glance down at the vial again, trying to understand what exactly the contents of it were.

Satoru has no time to think about how badly he feels leaving you with such a task. He’s too busy webbing his backpack up high on an alleyway wall after he’s changed into his suit.

Before he knows it, he’s already in the air, swinging loosely through the streets of New York. He feels the wind rush at him like it wishes to capture him, keep him in the sky with the moon. But with how quick he’s moving, he feels invincible—like nothing can touch him.

Satoru’s fallen into the same routine every night. Despite the fact he never gets the recognition in his personal life, he would not give up being Spiderman for the world.

Citizens walking the streets all gasp and point when they see the great Spiderman shoot past them like a comet. His white and blue suit makes him look like he was meant to be a part of a winter night sky, the sapphire blue spider emblem in the center of his chest casting a beautiful contrast in the ensemble.

He pays no mind as the silver meshy strings of his webs cling to buildings, aiding him in passing through the streets with ease. He also doesn’t stop himself from enjoying the occasional flips to impress the children out with their families and friends. Satoru insists it’s entirely necessary.

Once he spots the store mentioned on the police comms, he zips around the corner. Landing right above the entrance to the small jewelry shop, he pushes it open rather discreetly. It’s almost comical the way the goons inside haven’t the slightest clue that the Spiderman was crawling into the shop right above their very heads.

Thanks to Satoru’s wall crawling abilities, he’s able to cling to walls and ceilings with ease and without so much as breaking a sweat. So when he casually gawks down at the masked thieves, he tilts his head in amusement at how panicked the men look shouting orders to one another.

“Quick! Before Spiderman gets here!” one spits, stripping a diamond chain straight from the display case. When his friend breaks the glass case all together, he screams, “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“The Spider’s not gonna come. He’s too chicken,” the other responds. “I’d like to see him try.”

“Cute,” Satoru chuckles above them.

This causes all four to whip their heads up at the masked vigilante. Satoru is only able to see their eyes through the cutouts but he can tell by the way their pupils dilate that they are downright terrified.

In the papers and in the news, Satoru is privy to the fact the general public is split on whether they see a need in all the flips and tricks that come along with Spiderman.

Satoru couldn’t care less though, he is wholeheartedly prepared to stand trial to attest to the fact that the flair is entirely necessary. He displays the testimony by the very way he does a backflip and lands with both feet and a palm planted to the ground.

“Y’know I left a really pretty girl all alone just so I could stop you?” Satoru teases lightly, straightening up and flexing his arms by crossing one over the other. “But hey, if that’s what you think, we can make this a lot more fun.”

One of the men reached for his gun, pulling it out and pointing it at Satoru. All he huffs out is a displeased and underwhelmed breath as he shoots out a web, yanking the gun back.

“Come on. Show a bit more effort. You’re killing me,” Satoru drawls like a six-year-old. His six-eyes alert him of an impending punch hurtling his way from his left, making him duck and grab the very goon’s fist in the process. “Missed me!”

The goon let out a threatening growl as he swung again, only to miss Satoru. . . over and over again. Satoru laughs childishly as he doges and parries off swings one after the other. Two of the others manage to finally point their guns at the arachnid hero, clicking the safeties with a string of snaps that causes the shop owner to gasp and cower further into the corner he was in.

Satoru rolls his eyes, delivering an unruly kick to one of the men that dominos into him clashing into his friend, knocking them both to the ground.

The hero giggles at the pathetic exhibition before him. He hardly bats an eye when one of the men throws something that resembles a marble to the ground. A cloud of smoke emits from the impact of the small pellet on the shiny limestone floor.

Satoru’s eyes widen behind his white and black mask. He moves to leap back but inadvertently breathes in far more than he intends to.

His head spins, or maybe it’s the room that is spinning, he can’t tell. All he knows is that his head is suddenly throbbing in pain, every nerve ending feels like it’s thrumming to burst within his very skull. Like they are conspiring against him and hoping to flee the purgatory of his mind.

His ears tune in and out like his head has been dunked underwater. Vision beginning to blur, he tries his best to plant his feet firm on the ground but to no avail. He’s hit with a great wave of despondency when he envisions his uncle’s dead body before him.

That and flashes of him in a beautiful house overlooking a balmy little coastal town, the sound of his laughter blends in with a girl’s and he cannot distinguish whose.

He hardly gets the chance to decipher the strange blend of images when he is suddenly hit in the back of the head with a crowbar.

Once again, the poor boy’s head rings and his head snaps down from the impact of the weapon to his skull. He lets out a pained groan, doing his best to gather himself and seize control of his sense again.

His vision begins to clear and all of a sudden, his six eyes begin to tingle and flash in his mind. INCOMING.

He listens to his instincts and ducks straight away, successfully dodging another deadly swing of that damned crowbar.

“Alright, party’s over,” Satoru scowls under his mask and flips back, snaking a well-aimed and well-timed web sticking to the man and tugging him back.

He punches him quite harshly in the face that it all but knocks him out. Satoru quickly lunges for the two goons in the midst of aiming their guns at him. The thieves don’t even process how quickly they are disarmed because Spiderman has already smashed their heads together.

They drop to the ground, leaving one more thug, quivering in terror. He points his gun at Satoru with a shaky hand, only to find that weapon of his leaving his very hands when Satoru tugs it at towards himself with the help of his webs.

“Last one, huh?” Satoru smugly says. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

The thug fumes as he charges at the vigilante, “I’ll fucking kill you. If not me, then the others!”

He throws a fist at Satoru, but he whips his head to the side, “Others?”

He then lands a punch of his own at the criminal before successfully dodging yet another hit. As Satoru’s third punch causes the thief to lose balance, he’s already in the middle of stringing the man upside down from the ceiling.

“Who are your friends—” Satoru stares at the tangled man, readying his fist to intimidate the thug. “And I advise you talk.”

“I’m not saying shit!” The thug spits, trying to wriggle free.

“You’ll be here for god knows how long. All that blood rushing to your brain, oof, must hurt a little.” Satoru threatens playfully. “And it’ll hurt like hell when I actually beat you to a pulp!”

“Shit! Okay! Okay!” the thief cries, panic-stricken sweat dripping down his forehead into his hairline. “I—I work for a guy named Jogo! He’s this freaky looking guy that wears this mask on his face—I’ve never seen him but he’s big in the group, works with some other guy—I don’t know his name.”

“Jogo,” Satoru mumbles wracking his brain to see if he has had a run in with him. “What is he up to?”

“I’ve got no clue! I swear!” the man attests frightenedly. “All I know is that they needed us to look for a specific relic—You see my partner you knocked out right there? He’s got a picture in his back pocket. Jogo sent a bunch of us on heists in banks and jewelry stores to see if we can find it but there’s no sign of it anywhere.”

Satoru steps back and grabs the photo from the pocket of the man the other thief had indicated. He pulls back the photo, glossing over it briefly.

It was a photograph of a box. Made of some sort of coppery-silver metal with engraved eyes on the sides of it. The irises though, were made of jewels—rubies.

“Going through a whole lot for this freaky looking thing,” Satoru waves the photo with a dexterous flip of his fingers. “Why are they going through all that trouble for this? And what’s in it for you?”

“Wish I knew why those guys want that thing,” the man shakes his head, eyes still wide. “They told us they’d give each of us a cut in all that we returned from the heists—Jogo is not someone to be messed with—he’d track us down and kill us if we went back on our deal.”

“Tch. You’re scared of the wrong people,” Satoru tuts, stowing away the photo for safekeeping. “Tell me what that thing was that your friend threw on the ground. That little ball.”

“That? I have no idea. The boss just gave my partner a few—I think that was the last one. He didn’t tell us what it was or what it did,” the felon explains.

Satoru feels his own fingers twitching in irritation, “Think again. Remember what it was and I’ll go easy on you.”

The criminal’s eyes widen, “I don’t know anything! I swear! Please don’t hurt me!”

“Goodnight,” Satoru grunts out, ramming his elbow into the man’s nose, putting him to sleep.

It’s a matter of seconds before Satoru is watching from a few rooftops over as the cops arrive on scene. The flashing blue and red lights flashing into the back of his very skull. He’s running through what the thug he interrogated said, trying to make sense of it.

Speaking of making sense, you’re lugging yourself out of the lab after finally making sense of just what that vial Satoru had given you contains.

The worry on your face embeds itself into your features as you stash the chemical in your bag. Why would his manager hand this to him?

You glance over your phone, seeing your father calling you as you’re walking towards the train platform. Taking a beat to answer, you speak into the receiver, “Hey, Dad.”

“Hi, sweetheart, are you on your way back? It’s getting late,” your dad says, chatter in the back cause your ears to perk. Radios and police codes being tossed around in dialogue.

“Yeah, I’m waiting for the train,” you reply, looking up and down the tracks. “Are you still working?”

“Yeah, captain duties, dear,” your father responds calmly, yet you can hear the annoyed strain in his voice. “That spider’s strung up a few men in a jewelry store downtown. Taking care of what’s left of this place.”

“Oh—you saw Spiderman?” you ask, watching the train stop in front of you, bracing yourself as the lashes of wind whipped at you full speed.

“No, he’s left his webs all over the place,” your dad grunts dishearteningly. “Damage control is going to have lots of fun with that . . . Mom’s going to be pretty mad at us tonight for missing dinner, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” you nod like it’s obvious, sitting down and making eye contact with a gruff pair of men before quickly averting your gaze. “Maybe you should bring her flowers. She always likes that.”

“Yeah, maybe I will,” your father says. “Alright, honey, get home safe. I’ll see you in a bit.”

You think over what he says. Your father always mentions the elusive Spiderman. How none of his men have gotten even close to cracking the case on who the wallcrawler is. How Spiderman is somehow everywhere and takes care of crimes of all scales.

How could a man find the time to even do all that?

The desire to study a man like him plagues your mind far much more than you would like to admit. Who would pass up such an opportunity?

But more of what’s spinning in your mind like a deadly train is why Gojo has a vial like this?

Speaking of trains, when yours comes to a stop, you stand up to get off. It’s unfortunate that the subway stop couldn’t be closer to the next one you are supposed to take.

As you drag on down the street, you mull over what you plan to say to your dad when you try convincing him to simply leave you be once you move out because your safety is put more at risk from the distant and late commutes after classes and your internship.

There’s something in your gut telling you to rush, like you’re being chased or watched at the very least.

You toss a look over your shoulder, seeing those two rugged men about fifteen feet behind you. It’s well past dark and your heart hammers louder against your ribcage, a prisoner demanding release.

Facing forward again, you try to hurry as fast as you can but you feel helpless when you enter a scarcely populated street.

Fuck.

That’s when you break into a full speed run. You hear the footsteps behind you pick up. Your hand slips into your bag’s pocket to grab your mace or taser, but when your fingers only skim the glass of that substance Satoru gave you, you know you’re doomed.

You glance back again, thundering heartbeat blaring just as loud as your footsteps against rough pavement.

“Hey, pretty!” one of the leering men shout. They are far too close to you now. “We just want to have some fun!”

You reach for your phone to send an SOS message to your dad—but that’s exactly the moment the man grabs your arm. You scream in horror, trying to keep going but the other one grabs you too.

Against your will, they drag you into the deserted alleyway nearby. You’re still wriggling in their hold, hoping to free yourself. Thrashing, kicking, screaming, you try it all.

“Let go of me!” you scream. “My dad’s a cop and he’s on his way right now!”

“Shut up,” his friend spits. “You’re full of shit.”

“I’m not,” you grit your teeth. “Captain L/n—badge number 103—”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” the first man says. “You look better when you’re not talking. We gotta do something about that.”

Your eyes widen, and you try pushing, screaming as loud as your lungs can take. The elbow you throw against the jaw of one of the men seem to have done some damage. His head whips to the side but surprisingly his body shoots back about five feet, striking against the brick wall.

Your big eyes follow the man, seeing that wasn’t your doing at all. Of course, it wasn’t. How could a girl like you simply cause a man to fly across an alley and slam against a wall?

That’s when he appears like a fallen angel. In black and white, a glowing blue in the core of his chest, a symbol of hope.

Spiderman.

He’s against the wall the man had flown into, but you have to crane your neck a fair amount to look up at where he’s clinging to. You can hardly blink at the fact he’s against the brick wall with no reinforcements whatsoever, just his fingers and soles of his feet keeping him afloat, defying physics, logic, and gravity.

“You gotta be at least a little attractive to hit on a girl like that,” Spiderman tilts his head, voice light yet husky, young.

“Fuck,” the man closest to you now was backing away. “I didn’t do nothing! I’m—I’m sorry—”

“Ugh, shut up,” the vigilante drawls, dragging out his syllables childishly.

He drops down with the most impressive of flips you haven’t even seen gold medalist gymnasts do. After he effortlessly sticks his landing, he wastes absolutely no time in lunging at your assailant.

He punches him square in the side of the jaw, the pop loud enough that you gasp, stepping back.

The man lets out a frightened cry, and right when you almost feel bad, you’re reminded of how you screamed a few moments prior. Yeah, this terror is well deserved.

Spiderman delivers a seamless kick to the side of his opponent’s abdomen. The entrancement you’re trapped in doesn’t let you avert your eyes at all. His movements are like water, like a choreographed dance even Broadway level performers can never imitate.

A scientific miracle. Something inhuman. Someone untouchable.

The man falls to the ground after taking a quite deadly strike to the face. Your eyes go from the attacker on the ground to his attacker.

The superhero stands there, his back to you, silhouetted by the dingy light from the end of the alley. He turns his head to the right, and you’re guessing he sees you from his peripheral because he’s still not looking directly at you.

You want to watch him for much longer, the superhuman that saved you. The superhuman in a well fitted suit, defining every inch of his body—his muscles, his perfect height.

“You okay, miss?” Spiderman asks, turning to you.

“Y-yeah,” you rasp. “Is—he . . .”

“Dead?” he finishes, snickering. “No. Just sleeping peacefully till the cops get here. Which should be in about five minutes.”

You nod, humming in the little frozen state of yourself. Behind the mask, Satoru wants to do a million things. Ask you a million things. But he knows he needs to keep up the persona of the wall-crawler he his.

“You don’t want to get caught in the lengthy questioning the police are going to do, right?” Spiderman (Satoru) crosses his arms, leaning against the wall.

“Not really, no,” you hardly move at all as you speak.

“See? That’s why I like my way of business. Less paperwork,” the web slinger jokes. “I can get you where you need to be in a matter of minutes. Tell me where you were headed.”

You gulp, “Home. But what do you mean? I don’t think you have a car—wait a second.” That’s when the reality of the situation hits you. “You’re real?”

Satoru chuckles, “We’ve been talking for almost a minute now, lady.”

“I know, but,” you’re looking him up and down. “I thought those news reports were based on just pranks. Seriously—no one has seen much of you—I thought these criminals were just leaving webs everywhere as a sign of loyalty to their gangs.”

This gets the man to laugh again, his head is facing down, and he shakes his head. You’re staring again, it’s hard not to.

“Alright, miss,” Satoru looks at you, making sure he doesn’t accidently slip up and call you by your name. “Where were you headed? Home?”

“Yeah,” you say, watching him push himself off the wall and hold a hand out to you. You glance down at his hand, then up at his face. His mask is covered in synthetic fibers stitched to imitate webs.

“I know you’re shaken up by those guys and what just happened but please trust me,” he sounds inexplicably genuine, unaccountably sincere. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Your eyes soften, so does the rest of you as you place your hand in his. There’s a level of trust you don’t understand the strength of when you do so. It’s borderline undermined when he tugs you toward him quickly, eliciting a gasp from you.

“You might want to hold on tight,” Spiderman suggests, snugly sliding his arm around your waist, pressing you against him.

“What are you—,” you don’t have the opportunity to finish your question when you find that your feet have left the ground.

You grasp on tighter to him, heeding his suggestion without so much as a second thought. You look down, feeling the wind whipping in your hair. The sight below you is enough to draw a yelp. Well, anyone that is being swung through the streets of New York would. It’s only natural.

“Oh my god!” you scream when you feel yourself hurtling towards the ground.

He shoots another web in the nick of time before you hit the concrete, and you’re in the air again. You bury your face in his neck, clamping your eyes shut. Satoru holds you close, tightening his grip on you. This feels nice.

A part of him doesn’t want this little swinging spree to end. Maybe it doesn’t have to.

“Sorry. No seatbelts,” Satoru laughs. “Should’ve mentioned that!”

“You think?” you quiz, half gasping with the rush of the wind. “Wait! Where are you even taking me? I didn’t tell you where I live!”

“Just trust me!” he yells back.

You open your eyes, looking over his shoulder at the city. The lights don’t blur like you expect them to. You feel like you’re flying, like the moon was waiting for you to join with the stars.

Cars seem smaller suddenly. People look smaller. New York, though, looks just as vast as it always has been.

Once the initial fear shakes out of you, you stare at the city, “Woah.”

You turn to look at him—at Spiderman. He’s still focused on swinging you through the city with one arm. Studying his mask, you can see the fibers of fabric, polyester or something similar. There can’t be many people that can say they’ve seen Spiderman, let alone been this close to him.

You’re amazed, in awe of the impossible. Peace consumes you as you continue to gaze at the wonderous city you love.

Another swoop over rooftops and you feel him lowering towards one. You hold on again, hoping the landing isn’t so rough. Luckily, it isn’t.

You look around, realizing you aren’t on just any rooftop. You’re one of the rooftops of the building you live in.

“How’d you know I live here?” you quiz, brows furrowed and jaw slack.

Satoru has a bit of an oh fuck moment. Words almost fail him but he’s easy to recuperate.

“Well, your dad lives here, doesn’t he?” he points at the ground. “The captain?”

Your mouth that was agape slowly closes and your eyes drift to the edge of the building, “Oh. You know who I am.”

“I know who your dad is,” the man replies. “Seen him a bunch of times. So I’ve seen your face around the main precinct a lot and on the news.”

“You have?” you cock a brow.

“Yeah—hey, don’t worry about those guys. Just try not to be alone at night,” he advises, gesturing with his hands. “Guys see a pretty girl and don’t know how to act a lot of the time.”

You can’t help the slight brow raise when you realize he called you pretty. Satoru pays it no mind however as he scratches the back of his neck.

“Where were you coming from anyway?” he asks, pretending not to know.

“JJ Tech headquarters,” you answer, licking your lips discreetly to tame yourself from gawking at his lean yet muscular figure. Eyes lingering far too long on how the skintight suit fit him, accentuating everything.

Satoru catches this, smirking to himself, “JJ Tech, huh? You must be pretty smart.”

“Pretty smart would be an understatement,” you say. “I wasn’t even supposed to be there this late anyway. I should’ve been home two hours ago.”

Satoru’s ears perk up, he takes this as his opportunity to pry, “How come you stayed longer?”

“Just this guy—he ran in and asked me to help him with an assignment,” you grumble, rolling your eyes.

“Just a guy? He your friend or something?” he asks, leaning his back against the wall to the stairs.

“Or something,” you mumble.

“Oh?” Satoru pipes. This is the perfect moment to see what you think about him. To even flirt with you without any repercussions. “Does that mean he’s your boyfriend?”

“What?” you squeak, voice all high pitched. “God, no. No. He’s just a classmate. He pisses me off most the time—I can hardly stand him at all.”

Satoru scowls beneath his mask, not what I was hoping for.

“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact you exist,” disbelief clings to your tone. “You know you’re a scientific marvel, right? Scientists would kill to study you.”

He laughs, it’s a pretty laugh, one that feels hauntingly familiar, “You want to cut me open or something?”

“Oh, I’m not qualified enough to do something like that,” you wave your hands. “Who’s to say I can’t study your body in other ways?”

Satoru can’t help but smile, he sees that glimmer in your eye and you sound so innocent despite how inviting you phrased that. You don’t even realize it, but he smiles wider.

“You’re funny,” he laughs, shaking his head.

There’s a bunch of things on your bucket list, a lot of things you aren’t sure you’ll get to even accomplish. One of them being making thee Spiderman laugh was definitely not one of them.

“Thank you for saving me,” you say, pulling him from his little fit of amusement. “I thought I was . . . I thought they were going to get away with what they wanted to do.”

Satoru raises his head again, straightening up. It dawns on him that he’s responsible for you being out on that street this late. That if he had hurried up, he could’ve gotten back in time like he planned. He just feels lucky that he made it in time.

He made it just in time, and he’s thankful for that. But he truly hates the fact you almost got seriously hurt because of him. He’s at fault and he knows this will haunt you for a long time.

“Don’t thank me. It’s nothing any normal human being wouldn’t do,” Spiderman tells you, walking over to the edge of the building. “Just stay safe. And know you can depend on your friendly neighborhood Spiderman anytime.”

And with that, he dives off the side of the building. You suck in a harsh breath, rushing and leaning over the elevated stone along the perimeter. Looking down, you find that you have to follow the black and white blur swing up again.

You smile breathlessly, watching the amazing Spiderman soaring off.

“Suguru, it was all my fault,” Satoru paces his apartment . . . ceiling?

He’s walking in circles upside down, feet sticking to the ceiling like it isn’t scientifically impossible. His mask off but his suit remains on.

“If I hadn’t left her there for so long working on that freaking solution, she wouldn’t have left so late. If I was even a second off, I don’t even know what could’ve happened,” Satoru’s white locks are swaying as he walks. Although he defies gravity, his hair doesn’t.

“You saved her though, that’s all that matters,” Suguru assured, stuffing the chopsticks with a mouthful of noodles in his mouth. “But how did she not recognize you? There’s no way you talked to her.”

“I did,” Satoru drops to the ground. He makes his way over to where Suguru sits on the couch, picking up a box of takeout. “Maybe she’s not as smart as she thinks she is.”

“Please,” Suguru eyes Satoru, handing him a pair of chopsticks. “Don’t underestimate that girl, she’s smarter than half the tri-state.”

“Sure, she’s cute and happens to be smart,” Satoru shrugs. “She’s just a girl though, not a threat.”

“Why did you bring up her being cute?” Suguru narrows his eyes, lowering his food. “That had nothing to do with the conversation.”

“What?” Satoru mutters, chewing on his noodles. “She’s beautiful—there’s no denying that.”

“Beautiful?” Suguru laughs.

“What?”

“You just took it one step further,” Suguru teases, laughing again. “You have a crush on her!”

“What? No, I don’t!” Satoru snaps.

“Now it all makes sense,” Suguru has a wide grin. “Teasing her nonstop, annoying her to get her to yell at you. Wow, you can just ask her out, y’know.”

“Okay, you’re on drugs,” Satoru squints at his best friend.

“Yeah, yeah,” Suguru dismissively says. “So did you get that vial back from her?”

“Obviously not, I’m not supposed to know about that as Spiderman. Only Satoru Gojo knows that,” Satoru states, pointedly gesturing with his utensils. “I’ll ask her tomorrow.”

“Hm, what are you going to do now though?” Suguru asks. “I mean about this Jogo guy that thug told you about.”

“I’m not sure,” Satoru mumbles. “I’ll have to look into that.”

“Shoko, you know I wouldn’t make up something like that.”

“I know! That’s not what I said, it just sounds insane. Like, Spiderman? The Spiderman?”

You stare at her flatly and Utahime rubs your shoulders, “That sounds terrifying. Did you tell your dad?”

“What? Are you kidding? No,” you quickly spit. “If I tell my dad that he’s going to station two cops to follow me twenty-four seven. I can’t have that.”

“Y/n, that could’ve ended very badly,” Shoko frowns dejectedly. “What if Spiderman didn’t show up?”

“But he did,” you say. “If he didn’t, I’d be dead, and all my stupid little worries would be gone. But you don’t understand—that man . . . wow.”

Shoko and Utahime pause to look at one another, the former quizzing, “You—you don’t have a crush on Spiderman, do you?”

“Not a crush, no,” you chuckle, sipping your coffee before you look down at Shoko from where you’re sitting on the picnic table. “Fascination, yes, I have that. But to be honest, he was incredible to look at—his body was . . . ugh, I don’t have anything appropriate to say.”

“Now, this is how I know you need to get laid,” Shoko chuckles. “Having a crush on a spandex wearing spider is insanity.”

“Is it?” you look at where she sits on the bench. “You experience what I did, and I’d love to hear your opinion.”

Shoko frowns at you, then at Utahime. That’s when the latter says to you, “Wait, didn’t you need to talk to Gojo?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, sparing a cautious glance to your bag containing that mix. “Got to go over that stupid project before class. Would it kill him to be on time? He’s always late.”

There’s no need to tell your friends what the fuck Satoru had given you to configure on your own. Not until you at least talk to him and get the full story. You have enough on your mind as it is, having Shoko and Utahime’s thoughts thrown into the mix would only rattle and confuse you further. It doesn’t help that one of them grew up with Satoru and knows his aunt and the other loathes him almost more than you do.

“I’m going to grab a croissant before class,” Shoko rubs her stomach. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

You hop off the bench and head on down towards where your Orgo class is. There’s still about twenty minutes left till class and Shoko falls behind to grab her baked good.

Those memories of last night carry you where you need to be. You strut along the path with a purpose, your hair is effortlessly styled, makeup barely there, yet it somehow masks just how disheveled you truly feel.

“Gojo!” you call as you spot him by the bottom of the steps in one of the University’s vast courtyards, he just so happens to be in the midst of discussing something Digimon related with Haiba.

Haiba and Suguru’s eyes widen as they realize it’s you storming towards Gojo and not just any other girl.

Satoru flicks his gaze over as you walk over, stopping in front of him. He’s not sure what to say, he knows he should probably address the task he stupidly left for you to do but he hardly strings a solid greeting together without sounding stupid, “Hey.”

“Can I talk to you—in private?” you ask, your face gave away an austere look, like you were about to scold a child.

How can he say no?

He nods, standing up and following you down the side of the building. The two of you are supposed to be heading down to class that happens to be the other way but he doesn’t even question you when he’s whisked onto the school grounds.

His mind fumbles through the events of last night. He had two conversations with you. One as your savior and one as the guy you got stuck with for science class. He’s racking his brain enough to decide how to behave although the answer should be obvious.

The boy follows you behind the bleachers, looking around with an incredulous quirk in his brow when you step into the dark underside of them.

“Is everything okay?” Satoru blinks as you stop.

“Gojo.” You sternly face him, not saying anything else.

“That’s my name, yeah,” he sassily retorts. “Doesn’t answer my question though.”

“Don’t test me,” you hold up your index finger threateningly.

Cute, he thinks.

“Where did you get this?” you hold up the small vial. “And the truth this time.”

Satoru’s eyes lock onto the green liquid, unsure what lie he should curate this time. He could simply insist on the same lie as before, convince you that you were overthinking. Or he could tell you the truth, ultimately putting your life and his secret in danger, but hey, it’ll save him from looking entirely idiotic.

“I told you, my manager,” he states, reaching out to take it.

You pull it back, further from his reach and he wants to laugh at how easy it would be to take it from your hands in the blink of an eye.

“How stupid do you think I am?” you quiz.

“I don’t think you’re stupid at all,” he says, a smile goes with that shake of his head, his hair falling over his bespectacled blue eyes. “Just a little scary.”

“Listen, I know your manager didn’t give you this because he wouldn’t give you this.” You pointedly flash the vial in his face. “Do you realize what’s in here?”

“Wait,” Satoru’s smile fades. “You’re telling me you actually found out what’s in it?”

You nod haphazardly, more confused than skeptical, “You don’t know?”

“No—I don’t, what is it?” he asks, nearing you too closely without meaning to.

You lower your hand, “It’s a highly concentrated blend of hallucinogens and anesthetics. One sip could send a man into cardiac arrest—or worse, kill him.”

Your eyes are on his, but his eyes aren’t on yours. His are on the bottle of chartreuse in between your fingers.

“Satoru,” you murmur quietly, lowering the bottle into his indecisive palm, his fingers edging closer to yours but pulling back ever so gently before they attempt to muster the courage once more. You glance down at his long pale fingers, his skin glows sweeter than the moon itself.

Your gaze dips to your skin grazing his as you place the bottle into his hand. You let your hand linger against his, not sure why you don’t think of retracting.

Why are you just realizing how pretty he is?

The rims of his glasses glint as he looks at your face, studying your features like he’ll never get the chance to ever again. You blink yourself into snapping out of it, pulling your arm back and swallowing dryly.

“Sorry about the trouble,” Satoru quietly says, stowing away the vial.

“It’s okay,” you reply, voice rasping. While his eyes are focused on tucking the bottle safely, you say, “I don’t know what it is you’re hiding—I won’t ask, but please be careful.”

Satoru can’t help the grin he cracks, “I’m tougher than I look.”

And when he walks away, there’s a strange feeling that stirs in your gut. A feeling that tells you he may be right.

You aren’t sure why you’re still thinking about why he had that chemical in the first place. Did he make it himself? Did he buy it off someone? What was it intended for?

The rest of your organic chemistry class, you’re left there wondering what that boy is up to. You’re left wondering why he is missing class again today after you just saw him. And you’re left wondering whether Satoru thanks Yaga for never marking him late or absent at all. Call it favoritism, you suppose.

He thanks any deity that he can think of when he arrives on time to JJ Technologies before his manager questions him.

He finds some time to slip away, sneak up to your floor while you’re instructing your latest interns. He smiles, watching you scribble something down on your clipboard while you walk.

“Okay, this right here is just a sketch of one of our current studies,” you point at a holographic, digitized image that appears above a table. “This is a paradigm for a new discovery of nanoparticles. They’re commonly used to reduce the number of catalytic materials within chemical reactions. There are two fields within certain industries that they are applied to. Can anyone tell me what they are?”

The students all flip restlessly through their notepads, struggling to look for the answer to your question.

Satoru can’t hide the snicker he lets out. Half the student look back at him and you peer through the batch of preppy kids to see him.

“Petroleum refining and automotive catalytic converters,” Satoru replies, still smirking complacently.

You have a bit of a curl to your lips, eyes locked on his as you say, “Yes. That’s correct.”

Seeing him appear within your mix of pupils almost throws you off, but you know you have a certain image before the students so you keep yourself composed. You quickly instruct the students to write the answer down and head to their stations with their teams.

When the interns disperse, you cross your arms, face to face with Gojo.

“What do you want?” you ask, a sickly-sweet smile on your face.

“Oof, would it kill you to talk nice to me?” Satoru acts like a wounded soldier, palm across his abdomen.

“I feel like it might, so I’d rather not take the risk,” you say pointedly.

“Hm, right,” Satoru scoffs, he looks down. “You’re going to be alone now in the lab, right?”

“No, I’ll be in the lab but not alone,” you say. “My colleagues are going to be in there with me. You need something?”

“No, I wanted to ask you something,” his brows tense.

An odd sensation stirs in your stomach, “Ask me what?”

It’s been a while since either of you actually began interacting with one another somewhat civilly. You don’t know what it is that will come out of his mouth but you’re suddenly hopeful.

He grabs your hand, leading you off to the side, causing you to jerk your head around in case anyone’s looking.

Once you are beneath the mosaic mural of DNA helixes on one wall, Satoru stops, letting go of you. You try not to let the idea of his hand staying in yours distract you from what’s to come.

He tries not to focus on how soft your hand is, and once again how the fragrance of your perfume feels like candy on a summer day.

“You didn’t tell anyone about that bottle, did you?” he whispers, eyes darting between yours and the rest of the busy facility.

“No,” you shake your head. “Of course, not. I had a feeling you wanted to keep it private.”

Satoru looks at you, his smile reaching his ears, “Aw, how sweet. You care about me.”

You smack the back of his hand, causing him to hold it close to him possessively and rub it gently from the very slight sting of your slap.

“Shut up,” you snap, catching the way his blue eyes gleam behind his glasses. “Is that all?”

“No,” he states, straightening up and switching his tone from light and playful to serious. “You said it was deadly to take a single sip. That the properties within it were so overly saturated it could do serious damage. But let’s say . . . you needed to use it in combat . . . could you?”

The nature of his question startles you, “Combat? Like if soldiers were fighting?”

“Yeah, sure, like that.”

You’re blinking heavily, looking towards the place where the wall meets the floor, “Well, I suppose it could be used in a vaporous form. Like gas or something. That could do enough damage too.”

“Ugh,” Satoru closes his eyes and pinches his nose. “I was afraid of that.”

“What is it?” you peer up at him through your lashes. “You’re hiding something.”

“No—I’m not,” Satoru groans. He notices the suspicion on your face, “You got time for a snack in the cafeteria?”

Flaring your eyes over his, you glance discreetly at the time, “Fine.”

You begin to walk away.

“That was a yes or no question! Not a secret third response,” he trails behind.

“You got your answer, didn’t you?” you gesture to yourself.

“Yeah, but you seem entirely unenthusiastic about it,” Satoru grumbles. “A little energy may do you good.”

You hit the elevator button, crossing your arms, “I’m not here to appease you.”

“Appease me? Oh, god,” he lets out a baffled scoff.

“What?” you furrow your brows. “Poor choice of words?”

“Not exactly,” Satoru replies, loosely shifting to get into the elevator. “It might be nicer, I guess, to know if you actually wanted to get a snack with me and not as if I’m holding you at gunpoint.”

You roll your eyes, “You brought up a snack and I happen to be hungry. Where does gunpoint come in the mix? You really want me to do cheer like you came to my rescue?”

He almost laughs from the irony but he knows not to. He knows just as well that things could have gone extremely wrong the other night if he had not gone about everything carefully. There’s another sort of irony to him, a different form of saving.

“Mhm, but you like coming to my rescue pretty often,” he responds, a lopsided smile on his lips as he leans against the wall with folded arms.

You squint at him, the word rescue coming out of his mouth reminding you strangely of the danger you were in right in that alleyway.

“What does that mean?” you say with tightening eyes.

“You did my part of the lab report to save my ass, you helped me with that liquid, you kept that secret for me,” Satoru breaks eye contact, looking at the ground. “And that time in freshman year of high school.”

His final reminder steers your heart to a slow pace, your shoulders untense. You remember that event all too well.

“I’m a decent human being,” you explain as if it’s a scientifically proven, immutable fact. “It’s less about enjoying something but more of the fact I would be miserable and angry with myself if I didn’t help someone that needed it.”

Satoru lifts his head to level with you, his eyes are wide in a blank stare. That is right before he suddenly blurts a short chuckle. “Spoken like a true hero.”

Your eyes flit upwards as the doors to the elevator open. He leads you out into the hall, his strides are much longer than yours.

“Wait up! I can’t walk that fast!” you snap breathlessly.

His gaze flicks over to you, his eyes close behind his lens, laughing again. Bustling closely to him, you quiz, “Okay, well you still have a lot of explaining to do. Like where you got that green thing from.”

Satoru stops by the line of sandwiches. His head turns to face you, “Don’t you trust me?”

“Absolutely not,” you’re quick to counter. He throws his head back as you grab a saran wrapped sandwich from the stall and face it at him strictly, “You’re not normal. That’s what I’m realizing.”

Satoru grabs a sandwich and a sugary soda too and he’s about to follow you as you walk off to a table but is interrupted when the employee behind the register curtly clears his throat. A nonverbal cue to pay for you both.

Satoru lets out a throaty groan, fishing deep in his pockets for a crisp ten dollar note. He rounds the table to the other side, sitting down with you.

“You’re having all these revelations pretty late into our lives, aren’t you?” Satoru picks up the conversation as if there was no gap in between. “I’m a little surprised you just came to the conclusion I’m not normal.”

“Hm, I’ve known for a while,” you hum, turning focus to your sandwich.

Memories are thrust upon you from high school. When you first met him, he hardly spoke. He was short with his interactions and would hardly have the grace to offer more than five words. He clearly didn’t enjoy being around people.

Suguru seemed to help him out of this at some point because in your sophomore year of high school, he came to school as a completely brand-new person. His personality shown more, and he only then began pissing you off.

In a way, it was better than seeing him so down like he was before. Because of that, you have been more inclined to tolerate his shit a lot of the time.

“Listen, Satoru,” you sigh, not even noticing the way his body electrocutes at the fact you called him by his first name and not his last. “I’m very serious about my future. It means everything to me and to my parents. There’s only a certain amount of shit I can tolerate. And I can’t tolerate you slacking off at my expense.”

Towards the end of your warning, you look at him. He lowers his drink from his mouth, eyes straight ahead.

“Fair enough,” Satoru says. His head falls loosely between his shoulders, his hair glistening in the fluorescent lights. “It’s important for your parents too, that’s something I respect.”

Your brows uncinch.

“It’s important I get home on time for my parents too,” you sigh, looking at the time.

“You have an hour,” Satoru asks. “Why are you worried?”

Now he knows why you are worried. He still has to act oblivious, that’s all.

He sees the faltering blinks, eyes dancing here and there, mouth parted without a word ready to fly out.

Satoru takes another bite from his sandwich, talking with a full mouth, “Is your dad strict or something?”

Those anxious eyes morph into a revolted side eye, “You know who my dad is. You know what my dad is.”

“Yeah, he’s just the captain. Not some flesh-eating monster,” Satoru makes himself giggle.

You set your forearm on the surface of the table, rotating your body to turn to him, “My dad is a great man. He’s all law and order and then there’s my mom, also law and order. If I didn’t have enough on my mind, now my dad wants to assign a detail to me.”

“Assign . . .” Satoru shifts in his seat, lowering his meal. “You mean have a pair of cops following you around all the time?”

“Yeah,” you breathe.

Satoru’s eyes travel over your face while you’re not looking at him. If the captain does sign cops to tail you, that means that there’d be cops around him. Background checks, tailing him to get a sense of who he is . . . that could lead them to him being Spiderman . . .

“That—he can’t do that,” Satoru pipes, jolting you out of your little trance of eating. “That isn’t fair to you. You wouldn’t be able to hang around me—hell, they’d be standing right behind us listening to every word you say.”

Your lips turn down and brows raise, “I had no idea you cared so much.”

“Sure, why not?” Satoru dials down his emotion.

He supposes he’d have to stay away from you if your father went through with that after all. And he finds his heart twisting and turning from the very idea of doing that.

“He’s pretty stressed because of those string of bank robberies,” you exhale, Satoru’s eyes refuse to move from your face. “So my safety has gotten to his head too.”

Satoru’s blinks were slow, something that could be confused with lethargy, “Does he have any leads?”

“Not really. He just knows they’re all linked. He thinks Spiderman’s involvement is fucking everything up,” you say, remembering your encounter from last night.

“Hm,” and he can’t help but ask. “What do you think about him?”

“Spiderman?”

“Yes,” Satoru’s heart teetering on the edge.

“I think,” you begin, “he’s what our city needs. As a medical miracle, you decide to help others—that shows what kind of man you are.”

He has nothing to say for once. No quick quip, no fast remark. His mouth falls open, unsure how to respond. You were talking about his alter ego, but it felt like you were telling him.

“He’s pretty cool,” you nod, thinking about the vigilante.

He watches as you get up, saying, “I’ve got to get going, I’ve got to get work done before my dad picks me up.”

He feels like he has much left unsaid, but he still watches as you make your way out on your own.

Satoru is rooftop hopping, rushing back after he hit a dead end on a potential jewelry store he believed a heist may occur. That has been his routine that past week on top of annoying you in class and sitting with Haiba and Suguru in the library.

“Hm, okay. I just need to get a minimum of a C on this next exam to maintain my A,” Suguru mumbles aloud. “Satoru, you should maybe focus on your philosophy paper, you don’t want to get called out by the professor again—"

Suguru continues talking but Satoru is on a completely different planet. His gaze had flicked over to you walking through the maze of tables, and it was like an angel had stepped onto Earth.

The dim library of the university had mysteriously brightened tenfold. The incessant chatter of students around you crashes to a muffled halt as the faces begin to lose definition. All he can focus on is your pretty face. Your graceful smile. Your beautiful existence.

He feels his heart caper at the very sight of you laughing, the honeyed sound of it. His heart twists a bit more at the fact that it’s because of another guy.

“Hello!? Earth to Satoru,” Suguru breaks into Satoru’s eyeline. He looks back at whatever could have grasped his attention so unapologetically. He groans in frustration, “When are you going to tell her you want her?”

“I—what? I don’t want her,” Satoru snaps his head over at Suguru.

“It’s pretty obvious you want her, bud,” Haiba says with wide eyes and all Satoru can do is roll his own.

The sleep deprivation is catching up to him and he’s not sure how to remedy it. Those brief hours he does get to sleep he can hardly do so, he’s too busy trying to figure everything out. Where is Jogo hiding? Where is the next hit going to be? Why does he need that relic?

What could you be wearing tonight?

He has to shake his head like a wet dog, screw his eyes shut and bury his ears with his pillow. What is going on with him?

The next lab you have together, you spend most of it trying to figure out how to get through it working together and not competing against one another.

Afterwards, he wants to trail behind you, talk more to you but you’re tugged away by Shoko without fail.

Every time.

Every time you sit on some staircase out on campus, step through the winding aisles of bookcases in the library, sit at some table in one of the cafes, Shoko or Utahime are always there.

He figures he’ll get the chance at JJ Tech but he’s barely seen you with how busy both of your schedules have been. His last resort is waiting for a perfect moment to get you alone.

Satoru manages to catch up to you somehow once again in the library, studying for midterms.

“Here,” he places a cup of coffee in front of you on the table, it sat before your notebooks and thick textbooks like an almighty divinity.

Your eyes pierce through the coffee, then up at him, “How’d you know this is the flavor I like?”

You look tired, usually you can put yourself together enough to not seem so, but tonight it’s apparent. Your pens and highlighters are spread across the desk in a crazed frenzy.

“That’s the one you usually get at work, I don’t know. Thought you might need it,” he shrugs nonchalantly, sitting down.

You straighten up, wanting to smile but holding that feeling back, tying it down, “Oh, thanks.”

“I see you’re studying for . . .” Satoru tries guessing but squints at the papers you have strewn across the table, “what class?”

“Neuroscience,” you sigh, chewing on the end cap of your highlighter.

“Stop doing that,” he lowers you hand, essentially pulling the highlighter away from your mouth. He then opens the bottle of chilled coffee, handing it to you, “Here.”

You take it from him, eyes on his as you pull it towards your mouth, taking a sip. He leans back in his seat, his eyes roaming the papers you have laid out.

“Looks fun,” he drawls, looking through everything. “Have you had something to eat yet?”

“No, not yet. I’ll eat when I’m home,” you answer. “Have you?”

“No, me neither,” he says.

“Oh,” you ponder over what the situation is. “If you aren’t doing anything, we can go get something to eat right now.”

Satoru nearly stops breathing, he has every reason to frantically say yes. One: he happens to be starving. Two: he knows he’s going to be busy all night with studying and with his Spiderman duties. Three: he can sit and relax with you. Four: It’s you.

But he needs to get going, a potential lead came up in relation to Jogo he needs to check out right now.

“I can’t,” he wants to punch himself. “I have to help my aunt with something.”

Disappointment prickles through your body, a feeling you weren’t expecting in the least in a situation like this.

“Oh, that’s okay,” you gather your belongings.

“Wait—where are you going?” his eyes go wide, watching you pack your bag.

“Uh, home,” you say as if it were obvious. “Did you forget what we talked about that one time? Dad—security detail—never letting me breathe?”

“You can’t actually be worried about that,” Satoru says as you sling on your bag. “I highly doubt the captain will go through with that.”

“Just make sure you’re on time tomorrow for class, we have to work on that lab,” you tell him, flipping your hair as you adjust your bag on your shoulder. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“I have an issue with losing track of time,” Satoru frowns. “It’s not my fault.”

“Maybe use your glasses to keep an eye on the time. Are four eyes not enough? Do you seriously need six of them?” you challenge with a look over your shoulder before turning back to the exit.

He wants to laugh at the sheer irony of your question.

Satoru’s on a rooftop again. Another sleepless night is sure to pass him by. He follows lead after lead, suspect after suspect, but nothing.

That tip he got led him to nothing. Led him to nothing but missing class the next morning.

He’s thinking only about how guilty he feels, how he should apologize for bailing on you again during lab. Especially when you told him not to.

You count your lucky stars that you are sitting at home today worrying about your midterm exams approaching and not worrying in the lab.

Your father shows up at your door with a cup of hot cocoa, settling it down beside you. He has a cup of his own, a rare to see smile on his face as he sits down next to you.

“Thanks, Dad,” you beam, taking the cup.

“How’s studying going?” he asks.

“It’s okay,” you sigh. “How’s that heist case coming along?”

“It’s stressful,” he huffs out as well. “Got a bunch of different stories coming from the witnesses and that Spiderman jackass isn’t helping with my peace right now.”

“He’s not so bad,” you chuckle, taking a sip.

Your dad cocks a disgruntled brow, “That guy’s a menace. Just like that one news guy keeps saying.”

“That guy is crazy, Dad, and you know it,” this time you scoff.

“You calling me crazy, too?” your dad quizzes.

“No,” you set down your cup, “That’s not what I meant. I just meant that Spiderman has saved a lot of people. A lot of his good deeds go unnoticed because there are so many little things he does that don’t get broadcasted. Whatever—anyway, what are the witnesses saying?”

Your dad slowly lowers his offended brow and explains, “Witnesses from each location are saying they were knocked unconscious. Then there are witnesses who are also saying that the suspects dropped some sort of spray on them, then there are others saying it may have been a gas they inhaled.”

“Gas?” your nose scrunches.

“Hm,” your dad nods. “After they either inhaled or felt it on them, they started hallucinating. Some saw flashes of things they feared in their life, or of traumatic moments, or they were close to being driven to sleep by pictures of nice dreams. It all is difficult to figure out what it is. Our forensics team is having a shit time with narrowing it down since it may flush out of their system quick.”

You gawk at him, lost for words. It’s a highly concentrated blend of hallucinogens and anesthetics. One sip could send a man into cardiac arrest—or worse, kill him.

Your own voice rings in your head but his face is what appears before you. Those sparkling blue eyes and that silvery white hair. A flash of that green vial struck in an instant too.

“It’s all pretty confusing,” your dad exhales, taking a sip from his foamy drink. There’s a ring at the bell, steering his attention to it. He looks over at you, ruffling your hair, “You get back to it kiddo, I’ll see who it is.”

He walks out, closing your door and you look over that video about the fundamentals of chemistry, your notes splayed open with highlighters and sticky notes littering your desk.

But you can hardly focus—now that you’re thinking about Gojo all over again. This all has to be a coincidence, right? There’s no way Satoru Gojo of all people is affiliated with a high crime gang and drugging people to rob banks. There’s just no way.

But his voice rings in your mind once more—a memory of your conversation when he asked about that liquid being able to be used as a gas in combat. . . ‘I was afraid of that.’

The little three tapped choreographed knock on your door tells you that your father is on the other side.

“Sweetheart, there’s a . . . boy from your class here to see you,” your dad awkwardly says.

You blink the tiredness away, getting up and heading to the foyer of your penthouse apartment. Your hand rests on the railing as you descend down the stairs, only to stop halfway when your eyes land on snowy hair and silver framed glasses.

His sky-blue eyes lock onto yours, his blinks are restless, and his pretty lips are parted. You see him visibly gulp, like he was nervous to face you.

“What’re you doing here?” you finally say, remembering the fact he abandoned you once more today.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Satoru waits a beat till his heart tries to settle down. “Is that okay?”

You should yell at him, and you truly want to but for some reason you can’t. You huff out a sigh, beckoning him to follow you. As you turn around to lead him up the stairs, he’s once again scattering his field of vision everywhere.

He’s paying attention to the extravagance of your home. The chandelier in the foyer, the numerous potted bonsais and lilies, the expensive stonework polished floors, the ornamental china vases and molded ceiling. He shouldn’t expect any less from the daughter of the veteran police captain of the city and the successful assistant district attorney. Your parents were clear overachievers, mother and father both, it is no less than obvious you would be on a similar path of greatness yourself.

He eyes you rather shamelessly, it’s not like you have eyes on the back of your head. You glance over your shoulder at him.

Or maybe you do.

Satoru already felt scrutinized at the door when your father opened it. He should care a little more but finds that he doesn’t care one bit about the police captain’s protective gaze on him following his daughter up to her room.

You open your door, unveiling your bedroom to the boy. Suguru and Haiba would go nuts if he were to tell them he was standing in your room with you right now. Nanami would hardly believe him at all.

Your room is neat, that’s the first thing he notices. And it’s exactly how he pictured it. Furniture white, minimalistic and clean. The bed had four posts, sheer curtains draping down the top. You had white boards, bulletin boards, filled with excessive diagrams and notes. You had bookshelves in a corner of the room, lined with chemistry and medical textbooks where your desk was.

There was a wall of windows that overlooked the city, a balcony that had a set of Parisian doors to it. He wonders how much time you spent out there with your thoughts and what they could possibly be.

While he’s observing every element of your room, you face him. He has this wondrous look in those frosted eyes of his, a look that makes them look even wider. His lips part and when you look at him in the dim lighting from your study lamp, you notice the way his top lip prods out slightly over his bottom. That they have a pouted yet subtle curve to them that came to life when he smiled. That there was a soft pinkish sheen to them.

You wonder why you’re suddenly paying such close attention to him these days.

“Here,” you speak, ringing yourself out of wherever your mind was going.

He cocks a brow, gawking at you rifling through your school bag. His puzzled expression deepens when you press a packet of paper against his chest. “What’s this?”

“Your part of the lab report,” you grumble, eyes cold yet thwarted. “Just memorize the material by next Friday before our presentation. I’ll make sure the rest of what’s left throughout the week gets done.”

Satoru’s entirely taken aback. You have every right to be mad but he wasn’t expecting you to still want to help him. His arm shoots out to grab yours before you can walk away. Your halted against your will, shocked as you gape at him trapped in the lamplight as it clings to his skin.

“Wait—that’s not why I came here,” he sighs begrudgingly. “I came to apologize. I’m sorry I missed class and bailed on you.”

“Twice,” you correct with furrowed brows.

“Twice,” he revises. “It was a shitty thing to do. And it won’t happen again.”

He swallows dryly as he stares at that cynical look on your face. He looks like a lost pet, waiting to be scolded by its owner.

“Promise?” you tip your head to the side.

“Promise,” he answers, he feels his heart tearing through his chest at how you’ve suddenly acquired a childlike disposition, one he’s never had the chance to witness before. And all because of him.

“Okay,” you smally smile, flashing your pearly teeth at him. “But if you bail on me again, I’m telling Yaga to give you a zero.”

“Got it—but how come you’re so sure he’ll give your word priority over mine?” Satoru challenges.

“Because you were the second smartest kid in high school, and I was the first,” you pointedly say. “I have a higher GPA than you, I have won three more academic awards than you have—and let’s face it, my attendance record outranks yours in an embarrassing way.”

Satoru presses his lips firmly and raises his brows in hilarity, trying to contain that laughter wanting to blurt out of him. He fails though, laughing anyway.

Your lips part as you stare at him, suddenly you’re so aware of how tall he is again, how he’s not as lanky as he used to be in high school.

“At least I’m not stupid,” Satoru tells you knowingly. “You could’ve ended up with a lot worse than me.”

“Really? Like who?” you cross our arms.

“Yuki—Haiba—Need I go on?” he speaks with a teasing tone.

“God, no. I got your point,” you hold your hands up in defense. Your nose twitches as you let your hands slowly fall to your sides. “You didn’t have to come all this way to apologize, you know. You could’ve just apologized tomorrow or over text, you have my number.”

“You wouldn’t have thought twice about forgiving me,” he puts his hands in his pockets. “Or murdering me.”

This evokes a laugh from you, cheeky and bright, this cold light of the moon suddenly feels like beams of sunlight embracing him, warm and comforting.

Then you point a finger at him, “But you have to tell me why you have that green liquid.”

Satoru can’t flip his way out of this corner. Another lie must suffice, “One of my friends from my neighborhood gave it to me—said he swiped it off some kid in his school. He wanted me to find out what was in it.”

“Oh,” you frown, all doe-eyed and innocent. “You should get rid of that thing. It’s dangerous.”

“Will do,” Satoru salutes with his middle and index fingers. He catches that little sideways twitch of your mouth, as you stare at him from the bottom up but stop halfway. “What is it?”

“I’m just a little shocked you’re not really how I thought you’d be,” you say. “Is that bad?”

“Depends,” Satoru eyes the room shamelessly, glancing at you before he sits down uninvited on your bed. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. We’ve known each other for like over half a decade—and we hardly ever really talked. I always thought you were some nerdy guy that had a bad attitude. I guess I thought you never really liked me.” You circle around the bed post to get closer to him.

Satoru’s brows are raised so far up high that they are practically skimming his hairline. He was talkative, just not with you at first. He feels like he might’ve been a bit blunt overall—but that changed for him when he became Spiderman years ago.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” Satoru says the unexpected. “I guess I just found you intimidating.”

“Me?” you point at yourself, sitting down. “Why? You’re, like, one of the most talented kids I know.”

“Because you’re crazy smart,” he blurts out, smiling as he can’t even maintain eye contact with you. He feels your body heat, just a few measly inches to his left. You’re in reach and he’s scared he’ll do something to cause you to slip away.

Your eyes widen at his words, and he seems to not be done yet with the way he sucks in a breath, hands resting either side of him on the comforter.

“You’re insanely clever and nice and it doesn’t help much that you’re pretty,” Satoru is shaking his head, meeting your gaze once again. Once again, gorgeous eyes stare back at him.

You furrow your brows, not remembering an instance in your life where you had seen him look so vulnerable for even a moment. Your eyes flick down to his pouted lips then back up to his eyes.

“You think I’m pretty?” you whisper.

“Is that even a question?” Satoru breathes.

You lean close, his icy blue eyes contrast his half lidded warm look behind his glasses. He inches closer, your noses brushing against each other.

Your lips are half a centimeter away from his. He can smell the scent of your lotion, the sweet scent of your lip balm. He’s so close to tasting it that he feels like he’s the closest he’ll ever be.

That tingling sensation shot up his spine and straight to his ears, not because of this tension.

It’s his six eyes telling him there’s an incoming threat. Footsteps. They’re faint, but he feels them coming this way.

He suddenly jumps up, grabbing the lab report and rifling through it, “Your dad.”

“What?” you’re taken aback, your face crinkling.

“He’s coming,” he says.

You blink at him, wondering if he’s just scared or if he didn’t want to kiss you in the first place.

“Listen, Satoru, if you don’t want to—”

Your door swings open, revealing your father. One hand rests on the knob and one on the door frame. The way he opened it indicated a sense of urgency, or a sense of wanting to catch Satoru in the act. The act being the boy making a move on you.

“Hey, sweetie, everything alright in here?” he eyes you quickly at the term of endearment but then keeps his razor-sharp cop stare on Satoru. He’s not doing anything to ring alarm bells, simply just thumbing through report papers like he gave the impression of initially.

“Yes, Dad!” You glare at your father. “I thought we talked about knocking.”

“Oh, sorry—I was just—” he attempts defending himself but your eyes widen as you tilt your head at him and he ushers himself out of your room.

“Jeez. You’d hardly believe I’m nineteen years old with a dad like that. What is he going to do after I move out,” you grumble. Your eyes slowly dance over to the boy who was standing up, “How’d you know he was coming?”

“I could hear his footsteps,” he says.

“Yeah, you told me like a whole minute before he actually was at the door,” you stand up, nearing him. “I know your eyes suck, but no one has that good a sense of hearing.”

“I told you that’s what I heard,” he defends himself.

You tighten your lips, watching him set the papers down with his eyes fixed on the door. His eyes are still but his mind runs a mile a minute. He’s ruminating on the fact he almost kissed you and that your father could have walked in. What’s worse right now though is the fact he is still standing in the wake of your missed moment.

“Satoru, something is up with you,” you stand up, taking a daring step forward. Your shoulders square in assertion, “I’m not sure what it is. But I promise you can trust me.”

He slowly turns his head to you, thinking about what to say but his breath stops short when you place your palms over his chest, gazing up at him.

He gulps, and he hopes you don’t see how his nerves are clearly rattling, shaking his very bones. His phone buzzes with the soft four chimed ring he’s all too familiar with and he curses himself and every other wrong doer in the whole city of New York.

“I . . . I’m sorry,” he grabs yours wrists. “I have to go.”

He goes around you, passing you without so much as another glance. You watch him leave your room and in the simplest of terms, you felt like shit.

You begin walking to your door to slam it shut when your father runs past you, frantically pushing his limbs through his police jacket, his other hand on his phone.

“Dad—what is it?” you question breathlessly.

“Sorry, honey, have to go in. There’s another theft in progress in the upper east,” your father explains in two quick breaths.

Your eyes follow him as you hear the front door shutting after he leaves, only a minute or so after Satoru did.

You can’t help that scowl you toss at your microscope on your desk, or how you sprint towards it to inspect the elements once again.

Satoru is thinking only about you. Only you, only you.

His cognizance on the fact he should focus on this heist is hardly doing him favors from how much he regrets not kissing you. If being caught by your father was a repercussion anyway, how bad could that have possibly been? Yeah, so what. Mild embarrassment, maybe a few threats here and there.

His hand wraps around the web he shoots at the side of the building, swinging straight through the shattered window. He has no time for histrionics, he just wants to get to the bottom of this case.

When the thugs turn to face the man that flew in through the window, they all drop what they are doing, scowling menacingly at the boy.

“Okay,” Satoru cracks his knuckles, tweaking his neck to the side. “Let’s wrap this up.”

That’s what prompts four burly men to lurch at the boy. Gojo makes quick effort to shoot at one’s face, gluing a sticky web to his eyes and hindering his senses completely.

He knocks over another one with a horse powered kick, pushing him into a glass display. He’s nearly amazed with himself by how rushed this fight is.

Another man comes at him with a closed fist, brass knuckles adorning them as they hurtle straight for Satoru’s face. With lightening reflexes, he swats the man’s arm, aiming the base of his palm straight up the man’s jaw. Except it isn’t his jaw he’s aiming for.

An anguished scream of agony leaves the man as he cradles his bleeding, broken nose. Spiderman towers over him again, kicking him in the gut while he’s down.

The fourth man fires several shots at Satoru, unfortunately for the goon, he hasn’t experienced just how the Six Eyes senses really benefit the Spiderman.

His gun is in Satoru’s hand before he knows it, a stringy web stuck to the end of it. The thief’s jaw drops, eyes reddened and wide when he witnesses the way the gun crushes in the vigilante’s hand, the pieces of it crumbling to the ground.

“This is getting boring,” Satoru whines immaturely. “I can’t believe I had to give up being with a pretty girl for this.”

Forcibly tugging the man towards him with a web, Satoru delivers a lethal blow to the back of the man’s head, instantly knocking him out.

The sound of a glass rustling behind him draws his attention, the man he had knocked into the display was on his feet again. He has something in his hand that catches the vigilante’s attention, three small balls.

“Fuck no,” Satoru grabs the pellets by shooting webs again. “Not falling for this again.”

He lunges to the wall behind the man, psyching him out when he kicks off the wall and practically tackles the man to the ground.

“Not in the mood to get to know you,” Satoru frowns, his boot on the side of the man’s neck. “Where’s Jogo? And who gave you this?”

He hold up the pellets of gas, the stare of whitened eyes through his mask are enough to terrify the man.

“Please! I don’t know where Jogo is! I was just instructed to make this hit!” the man chokes out. “I got these through the—the lady we got that makes these—her name is Hanami—she works in a lab somewhere—we don’t know where. She has someone drop them off and she tells us where after the drop’s been made but—”

“You’re not telling me what I need,” Satoru steps down on the man’s throat harder.

“I—I can tell you where she gets her stuff from! In fact, I heard from somewhere that she’s got a guy on the inside getting her the goods. It’s at Myrtec Chemicals—one of her guys told me there’s a drop happening later tonight!”

“Thanks,” Satoru lifelessly smiles, kicking the man unconscious.

Shivering behind a wall of crates is not how you expect to be spending your Friday night. What you envisioned after a long night of studying was curling up with some popcorn and other snacks to watch a nice movie.

Most certainly not a group of men talking about people they are planning to kill.

“Man, I fucking hate the captain,” one spews. “I’d love to rip his heart out of his chest if I ever got the chance.”

You cover your mouth, trying to contain your gasp. The suspicion that Satoru may be involved with these men is tearing you apart. You haven’t seen or heard him in the last twenty minutes you’ve been here.

Standing outside the wired fence of Myrtec Chemicals is not how you want to go out. So slipping out now makes sense. You needed to make sure Satoru wasn’t linked to these guys and there’s been no sign of his loudmouth anywhere.

As you shift to run off as fast as you can so you can get to the bus stop at the edge of the next street, you accidentally bump your elbow into one of the big crates. A dull yet prominent thud reverberates through the air.

Fuck.

“What the fuck!”

“Someone’s here?”

“Who’s there?”

You know once again you’re cornered. Why must you test your luck so often? How on earth will you get out of this one?

“Hey! You!” a man is looking around the pile of crates, eyes landing on you.

You make a run for it but he grabs you—as expected. You cinch your eyes shut and a loud whoosh over your heads shoots through the air.

No way.

“Hey! Hands off her!”

The voice is hauntingly familiar. So is that black and white suit and that emblem of blue across his chest. That glowing spider—hope.

Spiderman leaps at the man that had grabbed you, striking him across the face. The other men shout out, rushing to grab their weapons, all the while the great Spiderman is making haste to scoop you into his arms.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Sorry about this.”

“That’s okay, been wondering about you for a while,” he says with ease, then he leaps and you scream out, not realizing you’re on top of a small security tower. “Stay put here, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod seeing the thumbs up he gives you as he falls backwards to the ground, flipping straight back into action.

You watch as he takes down the remaining men, but the fascination to him isn’t all that you think about. You’re trying to pinpoint that voice—that cadence and rhythm in it. It sounds an awful lot like—

“How’d you end up here?” the vigilante is hanging upside down by a web in front of you, attached to the top of the watch tower’s antenna structure.

You blink, retracting in place, “I thought my friend might be here, but I might’ve been wrong. I was just worried.”

“You get into trouble pretty often, don’t you?” he chuckles, still upside down.

That thought invades your mind again—his voice sounds too much like his. There’s no way. There’s just no way.

“Sorry about that,” you shake your head.

“Why’d you think he’d be here?” the man tilts his head.

“They’re using a chemical, aren’t they? Those thugs?” you quiz. “They’re using it on people when they ransack places like banks and jewelry stores. I analyzed the particles and managed to isolate where certain specialized compounds can be mixed and it traced back here. Thought I’d check it out.”

Satoru’s suspended in the air, his state of mind matches his physical state. Speechless, he does nothing but stare.

“Ugh, God, why are you so stupid for someone so smart?” he groans.

“Excuse me?” you quickly pipe, taking a step back as he lowers onto the tower’s rail with you.

His arm slips around you, and he murmurs, “You could’ve gotten really hurt. This was a very dumb thing to do.”

“I know that but . . .”

“Why’d you have to come, huh? You care about that guy or something?” he asks, shooting out a web to another building.

“Yeah, or something,” you quietly say, eyes on him. Your suspicion as to who is behind the mask is starting to piece together and you aren’t sure whether you should comment on it or not. “Wanted to make sure he was okay.”

He can’t even face you. Do you even know what you’re saying? He wants to chalk it up to delusion but a mind as sharp as yours can’t be subject to something so petty as delusion.

When your arms slip around his neck, you stare at him and you can practically see through him.

“Hold on as—” Satoru begins.

“As tight as I can, I know,” you finish, not even being as terrified as you were the first time he web slung you through the streets of New York.

He stops at the top of a building, one far too high above the ground. That is when you realize you aren’t on top of any old building at all. You gawk from this point, the highest point of New York’s famous Vessel.

You look down, overlooking the Hudson Yard and seeing that the structure is closed to the public due to how late in the evening it is.

“I’ve never actually been here before,” you marvel at the sight. “It’s beautiful.”

“Hm, it is,” Satoru mumbles, staring at your wonder-stricken eyes.

At the sound of his voice you turn slowly, facing him, “Thank you for saving me. Again.”

“Nothing to it,” he replies, his tone hinting at a smile you can’t see. “Think I might’ve chipped a nail back there.”

Your eyes flit over him, head to toe. While your eyes stay by his feet, you say, “I want to take off your mask.”

“That defeats the whole purpose of it,” Satoru states. “Then you’d see my face. It defeats the sense of mystery too when you find out who I am.”

“I think I already know,” your eyes settle back on the white blank eyes of the mask, wanting to see the blue you’d been thinking far too much about.

Satoru’s stunned silence screams over how you move toward him. Your searing palms set on his chest, he feels like he’s being scorched to ash with how close you are.

He makes no effort to move away or tell you to stop. He swallows his inhibitions when your hands hesitantly slide up his chest to the base of his neck. The tips of your fingers caress his collarbone and neck till they tug at the edge of his mask.

Satoru knows he should tell you that he can’t let you see but he wants it so bad at the same time.

That’s why he watches with withheld breaths when you inch your way as your pull up the mask, slowly.

The pale of his moonlit skin exposes itself to you while you gently tear the mask further up. His chin peeks out, the sharp cut of his jaw, then you see his soft lips, the ones you want to just lean in and kiss so damn bad.

So you do and he knows he’d be stupid to stop you this time around. Your mouth feathers over his before you finally press onto him. Your lips meet his, buttery soft, warming your cold ones by a single touch.

He kisses you back softly but you back away, his head following your back before you part lips. He gazes at you as you cradle the lower half of his face, easing him into letting you take the mask off further.

You pull it back more, seeing that pointed nose of his you were accustomed to watching crinkle as he smiled. Then you finally pull them away from his eyes and his hair. You aren’t so surprised anymore, not as much as you should be at least.

That snowy white hair, like a fresh fleet of ice had poured onto his head ever so lovingly. Then those eyes, God those eyes. The shimmering blue that twinkled so brilliantly in the amber light, the eyes you feel like you’re seeing for the first time without any pair of glasses or masks in the way.

For once, you are the one smiling and he’s left with a somnolescent look on his face, like he could fall over at any moment. His eyes are half-lidded, fixed on your eyes and fleeting down to your lips without any sign of subtly.

He bends his neck down, capturing your lips in his again before slipping his arm around you and his free hand to your face. Now even if you wanted to move away, you couldn’t. Key word ‘if’.

You feel the way he softly inhales from his nose, breathing in like he’s breathing you in. He’s gentle and yearning, like he’s wanted this for a long time.

He presses his lips a little harder, and you can’t help the little sigh you let out. If you were in this situation two weeks ago, you’d be running around flipping your lid at the revelation that Satoru Gojo was the Spiderman. Except now, that mattered slightly less to you.

You both pull away by a hair, noses grazing one another’s as you gaze into each other’s eyes. You pull back a little more to see his face in its entirety. A fallen angel.

The little fidget of your smile as you decide whether to smile or not is enough to have him take the lead and smile anyway.

“So you did want to kiss me,” you say cheekily, eyes glistening from the city lights, the winter air pinching your nose and cheeks.

“Yes, dummy,” Satoru responds with a quiet nuance of hilarity. His gloved hand remains on your face, his thumb pressing down on your chin.

Tipping your chin down, your mouth opens. The cool air of the night blends in with Satoru’s warm breath, swirling in a strangely comforting breath, one that bore escape.

He pushes his tongue into your mouth, doing his best to taste every bit of you because he missed the chance for far too many years. Here, there is no police captain father to rush in, no thug or criminal to interrupt, no man that could touch you. Other than him of course.

You taste like peppermint, like what he would envision a warm and loving Christmas with family to be like. He wants more—he needs more.

Your tongues twirl in tandem, pace still slow but you each feel a growing desire crushing on your souls. It’s heavy and bone rattling, enough that he pulls back to shake himself out of it.

“I should take you back home—your parents—”

“Dad’s going to be out all night with that heist and Mom drank too much wine at dinner and my brothers and sister aren’t going to say anything about me not being home,” you’re quick to arbitrate. “I’m a little cold though.”

“I can see that,” he laughs as you shiver, the frosty air intermingling with his warm breath to create a translucent fog. “I—I don’t wanna sound like I’m rushing but you can come home with me to my place. I can explain everything there.”

You press your tongue in between your teeth in thought before you grin, “Let’s go.”

You help put on his mask when he cranes his neck down to you. He grabs you and you know the drill, hold on tight and do not, under any circumstances, let go.

He’s swung you through the entire city again and you take the time to enjoy, this time trusting him without a shadow of a doubt. The city looks pretty from his view, you count yourself grateful to get a glimpse of that, and that he has shared this special thing with you.

He stops outside a half open window on the side of an apartment building, he helps you through the ledge, safely getting you inside. You take a few steps back and watch him crawl inside, dropping to the floor with the agility of a cat.

“I can’t believe I’m seeing this,” you say softly. “I can’t believe I kissed Spiderman. I can’t believe I kissed you actually. That’s crazier to me.”

Satoru tears the mask from his head, his hair all disheveled fell into his eyes, “That’s crazier to you? That you made out with me not that I saved your ass again?”

“Shut up,” you narrow your eyes, looking around. “This is where you live, huh?”

“Mhm,” Satoru answers, watching you. “So you looked into that liquid again. Why did you come all the way to that place? That was very dangerous. And very very stupid. You really came all that way because of me?”

You face him, the air still coolly frosting at the shell of your ears, “I thought you might’ve been involved with those guys at first but based on our conversations, I assumed that maybe you were trying to play hero.”

“And you showed up and realized I was,” Satoru peers down at you. “Idiot.”

“Hey, if I was an idiot, I never would’ve been there in the first place,” you jab your pointer finger straight into his chest. He lets out an exaggerated and overdramatic cough, clutching his heart as if you did serious damage. “Seriously, Satoru, I get why you couldn’t tell me but . . . were you planning on not being near me to protect that secret?”

He stills, the smile vanishing from his face. His icy hair falls over his equally icy irises, bottom lip pushing ever so lightly into his top one in a small frown.

“I didn’t mean to push you away. I tried to stop myself from being close to you—that day you were late was my fault,” he shakes his head, eyes wide.

“But you still saved me,” you justify.

“But you wouldn’t be there in the first place if it weren’t for me,” he counters quickly.

You lower your eyes, “I have a mind, you know? I can say ‘no’, and I can make my own choices. Staying to help you was my choice. And I don’t regret it.”

Your eyes lift to meet his, lights darkened in his apartment. The only thing illuminating the space is the moon, its incandescent glow spilling into the room as if it were sneaking in secrets.

Shining down on your clandestine meeting, you each are inching closer, lips feathering over one another’s before he can’t take it anymore and kisses you.

His hands thread through your hair, his fingers interlinking at the nape of your neck, pushing you against him. He’s kissing you like he wants to breathe you in, like you’re the air that needs to be in his lungs.

You let your tongue slide across his bottom lip, easing it into his mouth. You lap inside his mouth, exploring every bit that your muscle can physically reach, intertwining with his.

Feverishly, you keep kissing each other, and it simply isn’t enough. Panting like starved dogs, you want to whisper to him to take you to his room but it feels too far—and your mind is running in circles right now.

Between kisses, you reach back, shedding your coat and kicking your boots off. Fuck, why is it always so cold in New York? Couldn’t it be summer, so you had less layers to shed?

He’s reeling you back in every time your lips leave his for even a moment. Taking yourself away from him for even a split second is cruel to him, worse than battling a group of mutants as Spiderman.

Satoru appreciates your enthusiasm and your forwardness, considering he’s not as experienced as he’d like to be for you. Hey, it’s hard to date as a superhero. He just prays it’s not too obvious

Your hands are busy unbuttoning your pants as he backs you into the backrest of the couch, not as coordinated as he hopes. He is not all that concerned clearly because you find yourself on your back on his couch, him hovering over you, lips not leaving yours for even a slight moment.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he breathes, his hips in between your parted legs. “I can’t believe my luck right now.”

“You’re such a dork—” you begin to joke before he rolls his hips against you, that tent in his pants prods at the heat between your thighs and you gasp out in pure shock and thirst.

Your eyes widen when they shoot down between your bodies, seeing that prominent bulge at the front of his pants, so obviously emphasized in that tight suit of his. How had you missed that before?

“What was that?” Satoru teases, eyelids bonneting over his irises seductively, a coy smirk pulling at the edge of his mouth.

He tries to hide just how painfully hard he is but now he understands there’s no use. After all, he can still play with your head a bit—just a bit.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist.

And his lips are on yours again, swallowing in your gasps and vice versa. All the while, he ruts his hips against you, grinding and dry humping like two pathetic teenagers.

Each time he rolls his hips into you, you moan, humming into his mouth shakily. He’s taking each sound in with pride, he can hardly believe he’s drawing out noises like that from you, miss put together. His lips trek down your jaw, peppering kisses as he makes his way down your neck, a smile curling at his lips.

With hazy eyes, you let your hands skirt at his abdomen, trying to tug at the fabric at his waist, “How the fuck do you get this thing off?”

“You’re supposed to buy me dinner before you see me undressed, you know?” he chuckles against your jaw.

“Ha ha, very funny. Now take your suit off—I don’t want to play any more games,” you plead, your tone dwindles towards something most would call pathetic, but he knows better than to make that mistake. “Please, I just want you.”

Okay, maybe he’s wrong.

He doesn’t have the heart to wait any longer either. The command is clear in his mind, tear the suit off, but his fumbling hands make the effort stretch beyond eternity.

While he is busy with the strenuous task of undressing, you decide to get yours over with. With the desire to stop, go slow, take it all in, each of you are still keeping your eyes on each other—listening to the other’s breaths, taking in the sight of the other’s skin unveiling itself bit by bit.

As ceremoniously as one could in a moment like this, you discard your top and kick off your pants. You regret the split second you look away because when you look back at him, his shirt is gone.

The spider suit has a variant of features, all that aid in the never-ending trade of fighting crime. That suit also serves justice to whoever it may be underneath it, but fuck it underscored just how beautiful Satoru’s body is.

In the dim light, you make out his chiseled abs, how his shoulder blades are sculpted like an artist spent every drop of sweat, blood, and tears into defining them. How those broad shoulders seamlessly crown the defined muscles of his biceps. Your eyes trail down his arms to his forearms, veiny and working to take off his pants.

That’s when your focus shifts to his chest once more. The plains of his torso display his corded abs.

And you’re counting. Five—six—seven—eight—For someone so rambunctious, he sure fails to flaunt his perfect eight-packed figure.

Your eyes lock in on his lower abdomen, how his waist his much narrower in comparison to the width of his shoulders. His hips hollow out as they carve out a defined line, trailing down between his legs.

Temptation is close to getting the best of you when you realize he’s been frozen in place for half a minute now. Shooting your attention back up to his lustful gaze, you’re suddenly hyperaware of the circumstance of you only in your bra and underwear.

“You’re staring,” you warn with a sharp look.

“Mm—and you weren’t?” he returns the same expression, smugly lowering to kiss you once more.

Any argument you wish to spew are revoked the second his lips are on yours again. Satoru’s hands roam your body. Despite the freezing cold of the winter, his fingertips are piping hot, searing your skin wherever they touch. Your hips, your waists, your face, your breasts, your thighs.

Those lithe fingers slide down your side, around your back and where the clasp of your bra is. And you want to giggle at how he’s struggling to get it unhooked.

“Need help?” you grin, leaning on your elbows.

“Shut up—I got it,” he grunts out. He doesn’t have it in him to admit that he’s suddenly registering the fact that it’s you. You’re the one underneath him right now. It’s your body he can’t believe looks this perfect.

His breaths stops when he manages to tear off that stupid bra from you, your fingers toying with the waistband of his underwear.

“Holy shit,” he mumbles under his breath.

“Hm?” you hum interrogatively, being cut off when he dives down. “Satoru—ah—”

He buries his face in the valley of your chest, kissing you harshly while making his way to your exposed nipples. He latches his mouth over one and your chest nearly caves in. A moan slips from your mouth, hands at the back of his head, curling in his hair while he sucks your tits so lasciviously.

“Fuck—Satoru—ah,” you try to keep your eyes on him but find yourself cinching them shut anyway.

“You sound so cute saying my name like that,” he gasps out, tongue flicking over your pert nipple, and hand massaging at the mound he’s left alone.

Chills dissipate over your arms and legs, causing you to let out shivers. Shivers that could be a mixed response of the cold air and at the sensation of his mouth sucking you.

Satoru begins to lower himself, trailing kisses down your stomach as he goes. He doesn’t stop when he reaches the waistline of your panties. His lips press on top of the cloth, over your pussy, his fingers curl into the waistband at your hips.

His eyes flick up to yours, a smile on his pretty lips as he takes in your expression, pure desire stitched in every crevice of your face.

He pulls down your panties, eyes fixed between your legs like he was seeing the holy grail itself. His mouth is watering at the sight before him. He can’t believe that after years and years of knowing you, this is the outcome. All the competition, the annoyed glances, quick remarks, all boiled down to this very moment. With you spread out underneath him like a slut.

“Fuck me,” he groans out, tossing your underwear to the side. He lifts your left leg, kissing your ankle and trekking his way up your leg. When he reaches your thigh, his tongue begins to playfully drag across your skin. “Mmm.”

With shaky breaths, you watch him get close and closer but then he stops. He mulls over every form of research he’s ever done. He knows if he puts his mind to it he can please you, he just needs a second to reel himself in. Quite unlike him.

You watch him carefully, seeing how his smile faded and how he’s swallowing down dry lumps. There’s a flush in his face that isn’t something you’ve seen before. Is he . . . nervous?

Your hands shift down, cupping his face. At the endearing action, his heart quivers, as do his eyes. That’s when his jaw slacks, tongue lolling out and licking up your pussy.

You suck in a fragmented breath, fingers trembling when he smiles again and does it again. The saliva on his tongue drips down from the tip of his muscle, dribbling straight down to your slit.

“Do you always get this wet around me?” he has a smile painted on his face that is reaching his ears.

“Can you for once put your mouth to good use?” you whisper back sharply, earning a deep chuckle from his as he lowers his face between your legs again.

Eagerly, he swipes a long languid lick from the bottom of your pussy to the top, milking out his spit as well as your arousal. His arms easily slip around your thighs as he now buries his face, lapping at your cunt like a starved animal.

A loud moan rips straight from your throat, you toss your head back from the sheer intensity. And you can’t help but cry out like that again, feeling his tongue circling over your clit over and over.

When he hears a rather high-pitched cry leave you, his chest swells with pride. He isn’t sure what he was so nervous about. He just can’t believe he’s the one making you feel this good—or you’re the one he’s ever had a moment of weakness like that for.

Tilting his head to the side, he angles his tongue. Licking, sucking slurping your cunt, he’s producing the lewdest of noises, getting absolutely high off your taste.

“Oh my god!” you whine, now rolling your hips on his face, fingers tugging his hair and digging at his scalp. “Do that again.”

“What? This?” Satoru feigns innocence, flicking his tongue repeatedly and quickly over your clit, teasing you.

You almost let a scream burst from you, slapping your palm over your mouth as he teases you. It dawns on you then that those blue eyes looking up at you, are the same very ones you took so long to truly see. He’s not in his glasses but that sight between your legs would’ve been just as gorgeous too.

His hands grip your thighs, pushing them closer to your chest. His jaw unhinges like he’s eating a meal, nose rubbing against your puffy clit as he feels himself become impossibly and painfully harder that he could cum right then and there.

Goosebumps ripple over your body, every cell in your body short circuiting. His fingers dig into your flesh in a bruising grip. With another wanton tug at his hair, he slips out a nasty moan, eyes deliriously rolling to the back of his head.

There’s a sense of greed in the way he’s eating you out. Hunger and lust intertwine together in his movements, he can’t get enough.

His hand comes down between your thighs, fingers swiping over your clit.

Your back is arching off the couch, loud and shameless cries escape you one after the other with no end in sight. With your vision beginning to blur like a flock of clouds rolling in before a storm, you feel a white-hot heat between your legs.

Your eyes flicker towards his face below you. His eyes were shut and his brows your furrowed adorably in concentration. His hair fell in soft tufts and his jaw and tongue are moving in ways you would never have fathomed to see before. Needless to say, he is so fucking sexy.

Feverishly rocking your hips as best you can to meet his insatiable mouth, you know your orgasm is closing in. Every piece of your being is only focused on this immense pleasure and straining to get to the peak point it so desperately needs.

He sees you becoming more and more restless, your legs shake more and your fingers tug harsher at his scalp. The way you’re practically screaming tells him all he needs to know, you are right there.

You scream when it hits you like a freight train. You’re cumming right on his tongue and gushing down his mouth. By no means does that indicate he is stopping though. He continues his motions through your orgasm, not daring to stop till you were done.

Free falling from a great height, you’re whining, clawing at his hair, his shoulders, anything. Pushing him away because of how criminally intense the feeling is. He stays right there, undeterred by your efforts to get him away from you.

Your eyes stay shut but your mouth hangs open, long and drained breaths filling the air. Satoru raises his head, “So fucking messy—I find it hard to believe you haven’t always had the hots for me.”

Meanwhile, you still are reeling in your post-orgasm state, chest rising and falling. Your eyes shift to Satoru straightening up, expanding his posture.

“You okay?” he says, devious tones underlying in his voice. Sincerity had flown out the window.

You respond halfheartedly anyway, “Mhm.”

You slowly move to sit up, biting your lip to ground yourself. Despite your head feeling as weighty as a boulder, you hold yourself up. Your hands reach for his briefs, fingers hooking into the waistband and tugging at them.

“Woah—someone’s impatient,” he chuckles.

“We both know you’d prefer this over anything else,” you say with a daunting lilt of your head.

“That might be true but—” he sucks in a sharp breath when your hand grazes over the precum soaked bulge in his briefs. “Holy fuck.”

Hearing his exasperated breaths draw a smile from you, urging your hands to tug his underwear down and freeing—no way.

No Fucking Way.

Judging by your reaction, Gojo understands through and through that you were expecting much less from him.

It isn’t like you expecting so much less, but you weren’t expecting so fucking much. A dire mistake on your end.

It’s monstrous, big enough that if you wrapped both palms around it, there’d still be uncovered length left. You tilt your head in awe, eyeing the slight curve in it. How his pale skin underneath doesn’t overmine the flush in his tip, the white precum seeding at the opening of it.

“Something the matter?” Gojo flatly whispers, fully aware of how long you’re staring. But by no means is he feeling the heat of it.

“No,” you quickly glance up at him, unblinking.

“Uh huh,” he accepts disbelievingly, a cocky smirk on his face.

You lean forward, wrapping your palm around it. You give it a few precautionary pumps, almost as if you’re petting a wild beast, hoping to tame it. When you hear the reaction it elicits from Satoru, you can’t help but fixate on his face.

His brows knit together and his mouth drops, heavy breaths escaping him. Not only that, but you feel it. You feel the way his dick practically jumps in your hand, sensitive to your touch yet wanting more.

Your chest swells with pleasure, letting your hand feel just what he has to offer. You can feel the ridges in it, the way his veins ran thick, pulsating in your hand.

“If I knew this was the most effective way to get you to shut up, I would’ve done it a long time ago,” you murmur, half-lidded eyes on his twitching face.

“Ngghh—Ahh—Shut up,” he shudders, one hand gripping the backrest of the couch, and the other reaching across his stomach, a feeble hope to ground himself.

“Why should I?” you tease, tugging at his dick as you begin sinking further down on your knees, eye leveled with his waist. “I like hearing you like this a lot more, Satoru.”

And just as you’re about to drag your tongue along the tip of his dick, something within him snaps. He shivers, grabbing you by the back of the head and pulling you to his lips. A soft moan slips from his mouth into yours.

“I don’t think I can wait any longer,” he breathes between kisses. “—I gotta be inside ya.”

Just then, you practically feel a second heartbeat between your thighs. There is no argument in the world that you could use to refute him. All you do is nod dumbly, giving yourself up to him.

He pushes you down, your back falling against the couch cushions beneath you. Satoru hovers over you, staring down at your face, truly studying it. His gaze flicks down when yours does too, to where your fist covers his shaft.

He shudders pathetically when your hand moves along his dick, pumping it impatiently. He notes the clear enthusiasm it elicits from you, how your body curves into him from how horny you were.

Satoru’s own hand reaches for his cock, jerking it slowly before he drags the tip up and down between your folds, gliding over your quivering hole enough to tease it but not give it what it craves so desperately.

You whine, feverishly bucking your hips up into his dick, hoping he takes pity and gives you what you want.

He chuckles darkly, “So needy.”

He slaps his tip against your clit and you gasp, legs jolting at the feeling. It is more than clear he enjoyed pulling a response like that from you, so he does it again. And when you jerk in place like that once more, he sadistically laughs in a way that you wouldn’t believe he’s a hero at all.

“Look at it when I put it in,” he quickly pecks your jaw.

You hesitantly look down, seeing how he coats his cock with all your arousal mixed with your cum. A little huff drips from your lips, watching how his thumb swipes over his tip, a little wet sound stringing as he fists his heavy dick.

While he aligns his cock with the opening of your pussy, your right hand flies to his left forearm and your left hand curls around one of the couch cushions.

He begins pushing it in, grunting as the softness of your walls cling to his tip, threatening to suck him in. Your jaw drops, choppy breaths falling one after the other at how it feels like he’s splitting you open.

“Shit,” he chokes, his hair tickling your face with how close he is. “You feel so fucking good.”

Your fingers tremble the further he pushes in. Your pussy wraps around him so deliciously that he has to remind himself to practice restraint—for your sake. Ever the hero, Satoru Gojo.

Your breath stops, realizing he has way more left to go when you spare a painful glance down. He isn’t even halfway in yet.

“Fuck—Satoru, you’re too big—it won’t fit,” you push at his abdomen, teary eyed.

“Then we’ll make it fit, baby,” he coos, swatting your hand away. “Nothing to worry about.”

When someone tells you not to worry, you learn, it is entirely appropriate to in fact, worry.

He angles himself to sink into you, glancing down between each of your bodies and up at your face, seeing your face contort into a pained yet pleasured expression. The more you become acquainted with his shape, the more it begins to feel good.

When he ruts himself against you, you let out a sharp squeal, clinging onto him. Your eyes feel like they are about to burst from their very sockets, in an almost cartoonish sense.

He watches you, a smirk on his restless face. He draws his hips back and jams them back into you.

“Oh fuck!” you cry, a crease forming between your brows.

“Aw, you look so cute,” he smiles, taking a breath to wince at just how snugly set he is inside you. “All the other guys at school would want to fucking kill me to get to have a sight like this.”

“You talk too much,” you shake your head, reaching up to grab his jaw.

“And you love it,” he pulls himself out till only his tip rests inside you, then he drives his cock back in you, stringing a shriek from you. He begins doing it repeatedly, thrusting in and out of you.

At first his pace is slow yet precise, the tip of his cock prodding so far inside you, you feel it kissing your cervix. Then he decides it’s better to make you work for it before he gives you his all.

His quickens his pace, his thrusts rough and catching you off guard with each one. Your legs wrap around his waist, ankles hooking behind him and toes pointing tautly.

“I’m beginning to think you go looking for trouble just to get the Spiderman to ruin you like this,” he accentuates his point with a well-meaning thrust.

The sounds filling the air are beyond your wildest dirtiest dreams. The sound of his heavy breathing is like music to your ears, just the way your moans are to his. The lewd noises of pap pap pap ofhis balls hitting your ass mix with the squelch of his cock drilling into your wet cunt.

The feeling of him on top of you—inside you, is something you can’t even comprehend the perfection in. Every inch of your body just feels so fucking good that you feel yourself teetering on the edge of delusion.

Your hands make their way up to the base of his neck, your fingers loosely intertwine behind his head. You moan again, letting your fingertips scratch at the back of his head.

Satoru pumps himself in and out of you. He can’t even help it—it’s like his body has a mind of its own. And now, he’s trying to have at least some form of restraint, trying his utmost best to not cum. It isn’t like you’re making anything easier on him.

He nearly falls apart when you pull his mouth to yours, gasping adorably as you let your tongue meet his. You’re sharing the same air at this point, and he fucking loves it.

You feel like you could cum at any given moment. You fixate on that feeling, realizing that you haven’t had time to yourself at all in the last few months. Certainly not enough time for a man to make you cum, let alone give yourself the time to do so.

Now though, you come to the understanding you were deprived. Satoru is giving you just what you needed after so long.

He knows that if his mouth stays on yours, he doesn’t have a fighting chance. So he parts from you, holding himself up by his arms and fucking you even harder.

Your hands jump to his biceps, whining as you do so. All the while, he soaks in your appearance. Your fucked out face, the way your tits are bouncing with every one of his strokes, and the way his cock is slipping so easily in and out of you.

When he suddenly pulls out of you completely, you hardly have beyond a second to realize he’s flipping you over. Your arms rest on the arm rest of the couch, while he adjusts your hips, getting you on your knees.

You turn your head over your shoulder, seeing his big strong hands spreading your ass, spitting down between your legs. You shudder, nose crinkling at the feeling of his spit dripping down to your pussy.

He then slides his dick between your folds again, coating it before he, without warning slips back into you.

He doesn’t ease into it like he did before at all. He has a quick, relentless pace from the get-go. His dick moves inside you like it wants to blend into your body, or perhaps go so far inside you that you feel him in your throat.

With this new position, you feel him prodding deeper than before. Your walls suck him in, helping the tip of his length brushing your cervix, this time at a higher intensity.

He angles his strokes better when his hands grip into your hips. With every lust driven thrust, you feel his fingers dig into your flesh even more. You’re more than certain it will leave a mark that you’ll be seeing for days.

“Fuck me,” Satoru breathlessly laughs. “You’re being such a good girl for me. You feel good?”

“So—so fucking good,” your eyes are closed, nails digging into the plush of his couch. “Don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he darkly mutters.

He ruts himself into your pussy again, feeling the warmth that he never wants to ever part from. He clenches his jaw, trying to ground himself in the smallest way possible at the very least.

His pelvis slams against your ass with great fervor, over and over again. Your heads drops pathetically, forehead against the armrest as you jolt forward . . . forward . . . forward. Your shoulders blades contract, back arching and creating a beautiful crease down your spine.

While he’s fucking you, a part of him wants to bend down and lick up that expanse of skin. Right where the spokes of your spine take shape. Then his eyes fix on the way your ass meets his skin and he does not dare tear his gaze away.

“Mmm shit, baby,” Satoru throws his head back deliriously. “Sucking my cock in so fucking nice.”

Then he rocks his hips against you so zealously that the angle he’s at elicits a loud scream from you. Your body falls forward, knees shaking.

“Oh?” Satoru comes to a grinding halt. “Did I find something?”

He draws himself back and drives himself straight into your pussy again, realigning himself to hit that same spot again.

When you choke out a sob, he grins, “Looks like I have.”

You spare another glance behind you, meeting eyes with that complacent expression on his face. His strokes are quick, deep, and precise, skimming at your g spot just right.

“Oh my god,” you cry, arms and legs shaking. A familiar heat stirs in your core, an iron searing heat. One that feels much more intense than anything you’ve ever experienced before.

You look back again, seeing how Satoru’s washboard abs are glistening with a beautiful moonlit sheen. He throws his head back and you spy the way his jaw hangs when he moans.

Your trembling legs are on the verge of giving out and he feels your pussy clenching. He knows you’re on the edge. He hovers over you, his chest pressing against your back as his hand swirls your sensitive clit in circles.

His senses are clouding, vision blurring just as yours is. Every muscle in your body tightens without any direction, moving at their own accord. A million little tingles flurry over your body like blizzards.

Your throat is drying out from the sheer amount of stamina stringing out of you. And you weren’t even doing any of the work.

Your cunt tightens around him, clamping down on him. His ministrations on your clit get you right where he wants you, cumming like a whore on his dick.

You cry out, body spasming like you no longer have any control over it. You’re writhing beneath him, spilling the sweetest of moans that are going straight to his head.

“Yeah, baby, come on. You got this,” he’s whispering encouragingly in your ear, lips brushing against your helix. “Ah—ah—yeah, just like that.”

Stars stipple across the night sky of your vision. All flickering on and off as if children are playing with light switches in an empty house. Any rational thought flies out of your mind, all you can focus on is this feeling, ardent as a flame.

Satoru’s pace comes to a stop, hands slowing on your nub as he backs away. He chuckles as you slump into the couch, watching you catch your breath.

Once you do, you get back on your knees, turning to face him. He looks as if he’s about to spew some condescending rhetoric but you push him so he’s now seated.

“Your turn,” you say hoarsely, taking your place on his lap.

He surprisingly has nothing to say. Or perhaps he does but his tongue fails him quite severely in that moment.

You straddle his hips with your thighs, sitting up straight in his lap. Your arms are slung around his neck and he finds it so sexy the way one of your hands reach down to put his dick back in you.

As you sink down on his cock, both your mouths fall open, eyes on each other’s. Your arms are slung across his shoulders as you look him dead in the eye and bottom out. You softly whimper but fuck, the whimper that escapes him is worth more than any currency.

His brows pinch and nose scrunches, his pretty lips fall into a pout. One that you want to kiss off his lips so bad. His hands are on your ass, pathetically trying to guide you to go faster and move at the very least. And you do, but the speed you move at is far from fast.

You lift your hips up, and then slam yourself down, earning a strangled gasp from him. You do it again, eliciting the same reaction. Your arms slide down till your hands are at the nape of his neck, feeling the scruff of his undercut.

He moans again, this time wrapping his strong arms around your back and letting you take the reigns completely. He watches the way your cunt sheathes down on his cock repeatedly, your hair in your dazed eyes and all.

As you ride him, he can’t steer his eyes away from any part of you at all, especially your tits bouncing in front of his face. He can’t even help leaning forward ever so slightly, wrapping his mouth around your nipple, hoping it stifles his moans.

You let out a raspy cry, feeling the way his tongue flicks over your bud. His prior hope of suppressing moans is all but futile for you can hear how his heavy breaths spiral into pitchy whines.

Your hips gyrate, rolling against him and he’s already been edging himself to prolong his orgasm but now he knows he’s done for. His dick twitches, and he lets go of your nipple with a pop.

His hands come to rest on your thighs and he looks up at you darkly, “You on birth control?”

Your nails scratch tenderly over his nape again, you bite down on your lip and nod.

“Good,” he simply mutters.

He lets out a choppy moan again, eyes hooded and breaths heavy. His cock twitches inside you again, and with one final plunge in you he’s fallen completely apart. “Fuck—"

His cum spurts inside your pussy, ropes of white liquid shoot in you. The warmth of it invaded your space, hurtling deep in you before it begins leaking out of where the two of you are connected.

Shakily, you breathe as you look down, feeling his seed dripping down your thigh. You take a moment to breath, watching him come down from his high as well.

You both heave heavily, catching elusive breaths. Each of you slowly trail your eyes up at each other, staring for a moment before you both break into laughter.

He rubs his hands over your thighs, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you smile, tilting your head unconsciously. You flick your gaze over his face, seeing the damp mess his hair is now, sweaty and clinging to his skin. His eyes still have that wintered glimmer. A smile rests on his lips too.

“Can I ask you something?” you quiz.

“Shoot.” Ironic pun.

“Is the reason you’ve been getting under my skin a lot because you had a crush on me?” you ask.

“What? No,” he scoffs, hands on your hips. You cock a suspicious brow, your hands loosely skimming his neck. “You’re crazy.”

“Uh huh,” you nod sarcastically.

“You hungry?” he asks, raising his brows.

“Oh, like crazy,” you breath.

He grins, “Let me order something and I’ll get you cleaned up. Now where’s my phone?”

He stands up, carrying you easily with one arm as he reaches for his phone on the floor. You squeal, tightening your grip on him. “Satoru!”

He pays no mind as he’s already halfway through punching in his pizza order, “Hmm, how do you feel about stuffed cheesy bread?”

“I could go for it, yeah,” you say.

“Great. Done,” he clicks, a satisfied bliss on his face.

“You know have a lot of explaining to do, right?” you remind him.

“You don’t think I know that?” he scoffs airily. “I’d be pretty dumb to forget that with you badgering me around all the time.”

You open your mouth to argue and he laughs, “Kidding! I’ll tell you everything—I swear. Let’s get you cleaned up first. Food should be here by then so I’ll explain while we eat.”

“Okay, but I like hot showers—if you put me under cold water I’m feeding you to that mutant lizard thing on the news,” you warn as he carries you off into the bathroom.

“Oh—I wouldn’t dream of it,” Satoru says. “Besides, can’t take that risk. The city needs me.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you choose to keep your sarcastic remark to yourself. Instead, you lean your head against his shoulder, letting him whisk you away.

hope you guys enjoyed as much as i enjoyed writing this!! likes and reblogs are appreciated!!!

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sutorus · 1 year ago

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BAD IDEA RIGHT? BEST FRIEND'S DAD!TOJI for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: you and megumi are old friends, but a recent development (called growing up) has made you aware of just how hot his dad, toji fushiguro, really is. you sit on your desire for years until one night, you get an idea.

PAIRING: best friend’s dad!fushiguro toji x reader

WC: 5.1k whoops!

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORDS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, age gap! power dynamics, slight daddy kink, degradation, spit (like a lot it's a Thing here), oral (m! receiving), unprotected relations, slapping, gaping, size difference/size kink, creampie, toji is Nasty and a pretty bad dude lol

A/N: this is nasty and very descriptive i’m so sorry i really sinned here. anyway enjoy!

you and megumi have been friends since school. after all, it was inevitable that a friendship would form between the only two kids whose parents consistently forgot to pick them up after class.

nods of acknowledgment quickly developed into trading pokémon cards, sharing samanco waffles, cheating off each other during tests.

it was the most meaningful relationship you had in your life, the one other person who really got you and the situation you were in, and before you knew it, you two were being admitted to the same college, like you’d talked about all those years ago.

in the meantime, megumi’s dad had… mellowed out. from what you knew.

sure, he was still gone for weeks at a time, neglectful, irresponsible and womanizing, but one final falling out with their family seemed to have lifted a big weight off his shoulders, and he became more present in megumi’s life, less resentful. you knew he wasn’t a good guy, but you also knew he was trying, in his own way.

besides that, you also couldn’t help noticing other things about the man. you first started paying attention when you were in high school, always hanging out at megumi’s place to play video games or study.

toji would come home sometimes, smelling of smoke and sake, tonguing the scar on the side of his lip. plopping down on their shaggy sofa, legs spread wide, thick thighs straining the fabric of his pants. you would give megumi some excuse about getting something from the kitchen and just watch toji, lazily browsing channels with one hand inside his sweats.

it wasn’t a big deal. but it never quite went away, your infatuation growing with your desperation the more the man hung around. you did everything you could to get his attention.

you wore the frilliest, shortest skirts, left dirty dishes on the sink, showed up too late at night drunk and stumbling “looking for megumi”, acting out so you could try to get some reaction out of toji. but he never seemed to give you a second thought, annoyance being the closest thing to an emotion on his face every time your eyes met.

but you were no quitter. you knew one day you would get what you deserved. maybe not today, but… eventually.

you approach the fushiguro household’s front door, fishing out the extra key megumi had given you from your backpack pocket. you two had a study session today but he’d texted you telling you he’d be late and to just let yourself in, so that’s what you do.

with a sigh, you set down your laptop on their coffee table and sit down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. before you can finish getting comfortable, a tall, broad figure is looming over your face and you almost jump out of your skin.

“what the f—oh my god,” you laugh in embarrassment. “you scared me, fushiguro-san.”

he doesn’t react, his eyes boring into yours. “me? you’re the one breaking into my house.”

you roll your eyes, pulling your legs up below your body. “megumi gave me a key. we’re supposed to study today, do you know where—“

“he’s with that itadori kid. don’t think he’s coming back tonight,” toji moves to sit down on the loveseat, turning the tv on. the old, boxy thing crackles to life, a boat race playing on the screen. toji adjusts his body in attention. “so you can fuck off back home.”

“um,” you start, but nothing else comes out of your mouth. you let your eyes wander all over his lax form, and you can faintly make out his abs below the raggedy shirt he’s wearing. it makes your stomach turn.

without taking his eyes off the screen, he addresses you again. “you know where the door is.”

an idea starts to form in your head. a really, really bad, tempting idea.

you discreetly take off your sweatshirt, leaving you in just your undershirt, no bra. you hope toji can scent the whiff of perfume you exude when you move, scooting closer to the edge of the sofa.

“nah, i think i’ll just study here. my parents are home today and they’re too… y’know.”

“not my fuckin’ problem,” he picks at his teeth, spreading his legs wider. your desperation is growing with each second he spends not looking at you.

you lift up your bag, something clinking inside. it's a bold move, but it's now or never.

“i brought booze. we could just share some and then i’ll go.”

that at least gets a reaction. the man snorts, finally glancing over at you from the corner of his eyes. you instinctively push your chest out, feeling eager.

“is that what you do with my son under my roof? get shitfaced in the house that i pay for?”

“well i paid for the vodka so i don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you make a point to pull out the bottle from your bag, swinging it around.

toji’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching. you know he doesn’t like to be challenged, absolutely hates smart mouths. you should be in for a treat.

“who the hell do you think you’re talking to, kid?” he stands up and snatches the bottle from you, turning it around in his — big, veiny, deliciously calloused — hand and laughing. “vanilla flavored? fuck, you really are a kid.” he says it like the realization excites him.

you can feel your face flush.

“are you gonna turn down free alcohol, toji?” it’s risky, dropping the honorific. you know he doesn’t like it, can see it in his face, but he doesn’t say anything.

instead, he unscrews the top with ease and takes a swig, grimacing at the taste. you watch as his throat works, adam’s apple bobbing.

his arms are huge, you can’t imagine he was ever shaped like megumi is nowadays, slender and frail. toji is tall and broad and big, with a permanent 5 o’clock shadow on his defined features.

he grabs two whiskey glasses and sets them down on the coffee table — no coasters —, pouring some vodka in both of them. it was most definitely not your idea to do straight shots tonight with megumi, but you will not go through the humiliation of asking for a soda to mix it with.

you’re desperate to have toji view you as the adult you are, no longer megumi’s awkward middle school best friend. you know you’ve grown up well; all you need is for toji to see it too.

you drink in silence for a bit, the only noises coming from toji being his disappointed grunts as the boats he bet on fall behind. you type away at your laptop, not really being able to focus with the heat rising within you.

he refills both your cups a couple more times, but makes no effort to talk.

you slowly but surely start to get antsy, your determination wavering and giving way to a funny feeling one can only experience by drinking with their best friend’s dad who they’ve wanted to fuck for like, ever.

so you bite the bullet and with the liquid courage flowing in your veins, you strike up conversation.

“y’know, toji, i’ve always wanted to ask,” his head lolls on his shoulder to look at you lazily and disinterested. “what happened to megumi’s mom? he doesn’t talk about it.”

“yeah, well. me either,” toji replies. you take a deep breath.

“you’re gone a lot. megumi is alone a lot.”

toji scoffs.

“thought that was what you were here for, hmm? megumi’s done well for himself,” he finally, probably for the first time in your life, gives you a proper look over, his eyes traveling all over your frame, tucked into the armrest of the couch. “scored himself a nice little bitch.”

you let out a strangled noise. you’re fighting laughter when you exclaim, “i’m sorry?! you think megumi and i have a—like, a thing?”

toji just shrugs, stretching one leg out in front of him. “i figured. why else would you loiter around my house so much?”

oh, if he only knew.

“no, no. it’s never been like that. megumi’s not really my type.” toji hums inquisitively, and you take that as a sign to continue. “i’m into more… mature guys.”

toji eyes you knowingly, but seemingly amused.

“that right?” you nod. “fuckin’ kid like you even know what to do with a man?”

you raise an eyebrow. you’re a sophomore in college, well into your twenties. he can’t be serious. “surely you know i’m not a kid anymore. surely you d—“

“surely my ass,” he exclaims and oh, he’s a little terrifying like this. toji downs however much was left in his cup and turns to you, pointing with the hand holding his glass. “you’re a full of shit, foul mouthed, rude brat. get the fuck out of my house, you’re pissing me off.”

you’re used to toji’s outbursts, not because you know him well but because every time you see him, seldom as it is, he always loses his temper, sooner or later.

“i think,” you take another sip, feeling loose. “your old ass wouldn’t be able to handle sex. like, actual sex, not those rich hags you who just lay there for you and give you money in the end. if you had to put in any real work i bet your heart would give out you slimey pi—“

you can’t finish your sentence because you can’t breathe, suddenly. your eyes widen, chest spasming as your oxygen gets cut off mid-sentence. toji has one of his huge palms covering your nose and mouth.

you look up at him with watery eyes but he’s not looking back, he’s chugging vodka straight from the bottle again.

he puffs his cheeks and moves his hand to cup your jaw, smirking around a mouthful of alcohol.

you catch your breath quickly, the hand that was clawing at his falling limply on your lap. toji holds your face, his grip unforgiving as he leans over you. his form is so, so much bigger than yours, towering over you completely, and all you can do is look up at him with a blank expression.

his thumb pries your mouth open with ease, the digit hooking behind your bottom teeth as toji’s face gets closer and closer. on instinct, you close your eyes.

soon, hot, stinging liquid is pouring steadily into your mouth. toji swishes the rest of the vodka between his cheeks — on purpose, you’re sure — before spitting it directly on your tongue.

it’s disgusting, everything about it makes your stomach churn, but it also makes you squeeze your legs together, chest rising and falling rapidly as you swallow without having to be told to.

“ya talk too fuckin’ much, brat,” he grumbles. ironically, you’re at a loss for words. “someone needs put you in your place already.”

“you,” your voice cracks and nearly fails you, but you’re determined. it surprises him, that you’d have something to say. that you’re still game. you can see it in his face, in the way his hands come off of you. “i want you to.”

toji’s expression is hard and unchanging. his fingers go back to your face, two of them slipping inside your lax lips.

your breath stutters as you inhale, instinctively sucking the digits and working your tongue around them.

toji grabs his cock through his pants pointedly.

“fuckin’ slut… that what you want?” you nod. he takes a step forward, knees hitting the couch. “is that why you walk around my house looking like a fucking whore?”

a whine dies in your throat at the sweet, sweet recognition.

he noticed.

he noticed and it bothered him and you really couldn’t bring yourself to care that he was your best friend’s father right now because he was tenting his sweatpants and your mouth was watering at the sight.

“please…” you paw at his waistband, pulling on the drawstrings. toji laughs at your desperation, voice growing gruff.

he buries a hand in your hair, fingers closing around your locks tightly and making your eyes sting with tears. slowly, he pushes your face into his crotch, so close that you can feel it pulsing, can feel every ridge, can feel that he’s not wearing any underwear.

god, you can smell him, and it makes your head spin, your mouth huffing out hot breaths and wetting the front of his pants.

you hook your fingers in the back of his sweats and pull until they’re down tight around his thighs. you have to maneuver the fabric over the head of his erection, earning a hiss from the man towering over you.

his dick springs up, slapping you in the face and leaving a smear of pre across the bridge of your nose. you think toji snorts at that but you can’t be sure. you’re too mesmerized.

he’s so, so big, the skin darker and flushed, tight, heavy balls and the head, angry red, peeking out from the foreskin.

your throat goes dry at the thought of it inside of you, inside any of your holes, because you know it’ll destroy you forever. and you want it.

toji doesn’t have the appeal that most men his age do to most girls your age. he doesn’t make you feel safe, he doesn’t offer financial support, he doesn’t care about your well-being, he doesn’t have his shit together. and to make matters worse to you, he’s your best friend’s dad, who your best friend doesn’t even like that much, whose presence has been totally indifferent to megumi for most of his life.

it makes you burn in shame to know you’re about to have a man 25 years your senior in your mouth.

you readjust your position on the couch so that you’re sitting on your knees, angling your face with his cock. it’s curved, pointing up, and you wonder how much of it he’s gonna wanna stuff down your throat. judging by the pure evil glinting in his eyes, it’s gonna be as much as possible.

you take a deep breath, steadying a hand around his length. it’s concerning that you can just barely close your fingers around him, but you put that thought aside to focus on pulling the skin down gently so you can wrap your lips around the tip.

toji sighs in relief, his grip in your hair tightening.

you begin to work your head up and down, licking the underside of his cock to gather up saliva.

“thaaat’s it, what a good little bitch. got a sweet little mouth on ya,” he whispers, hips thrusting slightly to work his cock further into your mouth. “yer gonna take all of it? or are ya all talk?”

you whine, gripping the base and sliding further down his length. he’s already hitting the back of your throat, making your eyes water and your stomach seize. you pick up the pace, twisting your wrist rhythmically as you suck him.

“don’t swallow,” he threatens, forcing his cock deeper into you, the head sliding into the opening of your throat. “lemme see how messy this slutty face can get.”

you choke audibly, eyes smarting with tears, makeup smudging. you look up at him with furrowed brows in a silent plea of mercy.

toji’s having none of it.

he puts one foot down on the sofa, next to your legs, giving himself the leverage to start fully fucking your face now. he wraps both hands around your throat and thrusts his hips violently into your mouth, his thumbs pressing down to feel his length in your throat.

“ahh, fuck,” he throws his head back, reveling in your desperate gurgles. you feel like a fucking ragdoll, like a fleshlight, unable to control the noises you make or how much dick you take. “takin’ me so well. who taught you to squeeze your throat like that, huh? so fuckin’ slutty.”

you sob around his cock, nose buried in his pubes. he’s impossibly hard, impossibly wet as thick strings of spit and pre hang from your lips, dripping down to his balls, falling to the floor.

toji keeps fucking your throat relentlessly, granting you mere seconds between thrusts to inhale a desperate breath that immediately starts to burn in your lungs.

he’s a fucking sight though, above you. chin tucked into his chest, veins bulging and biceps flexed, nostrils flared as he watches you devour him.

he pulls out suddenly, leaving you choking for air. tears stream down your face, spit bubbling out of your nostril. you look all wrong, like you’d been put back together by someone after being utterly demolished.

“open your mouth,” toji orders. you obey and he grabs his cock, slapping the head against your tongue a few times. he slides his length in and out for a bit before he starts jerking himself off. “suck my balls.”

you take that moment to swallow down the saliva that had pooled between your teeth, tucking away the wet strands of hair that frame your face.

toji’s lifting his cock towards his belly, fisting the head and flicking his wrist. he looks at you expectantly, and you understand it’s time to prove yourself once again.

you place a gente thumb right below his shaft, where his sack hangs. your tongue dips in between his balls, shyly at first, just slightly tracing the shape of them before you pop one into your mouth.

toji groans, the hand on his cock gaining speed. you squeeze your thighs together; you’re so wet that it makes you uncomfortable. you lean forward on your knees, steadying yourself with your palms planted firmly on his thighs.

you’re sucking his balls earnestly now , one then the other, then both at the same time, angling your head up and working your tongue up and down the wrinkled skin.

toji’s loving it, maybe more than the blowjob, and it makes you feel like a toy all over again, in an even more humiliating way because now you’re not even allowed to touch his cock, he’s just getting to use your mouth anywhere he wants.

it’s so fucking hot that it makes you dizzy. you hollow your cheeks, giving his nutsack a good suck before gingerly lifting his balls. you sneak a glance up at toji, hoping to catch him by surprise when your tongue dips even lower, approaching some pretty controversial territory.

it works. his breath catches in his throat and his knee kicks out instinctively.

he grabs your hair immediately, pulling you away from him.

“fuck,” you look up at him smirking, lips smeared with saliva and snort. but you don’t even care how debauched you look right now, as long as you can keep the upper hand. “you’re a nasty little bitch, aren’t ya?”

he leans down to kiss you deeply, messily, inhaling loudly through his nose. toji finishes stepping out of his sweatpants and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing what you’d been imagining for so many years.

you run your hands over his chest, his abs, down his hips, his v-line. he’s so fucking hot, got bulging muscles you didn’t even know existed in the human body, and scars you can’t even fathom the origin of.

he stares at you, looking bored. “get up.”

you do, legs shaking and prickling with pins and needles. now you can fully feel the scope of your arousal, how your panties stick to your core uncomfortably, how the wet tops of your thighs rub together.

toji sits down on the sofa and you waste no time getting on his lap, clawing at his chest and leaning in for another kiss. he’s unforgiving even like this, so much bigger than you, his hand on the back of your neck and his mouth on yours.

“arms up,” and when you comply, he’s pulling your tank top off. “good girl.”

you shiver, instinctively wrapping an arm around yourself. toji tsks at that, easily taking both your wrists in one hand and pinning them behind your back. he grabs your tit with the other, popping as much of it as he can in his mouth.

you groan, fighting against his grip to get your hands on his hair, his shoulders, anywhere. toji relentlessly sucks on your nipple, nibbling and circling it with his tongue.

when he pulls off, he lands a swift slap across your boob, ripping a groan from you.

“such a good fuckin’ slut, look at that body.”

he slaps your ass, this time, tugging your shorts over your butt. you help him get it off of you and then, finally, you’re straddling toji’s cock, no layers in between you two, just your dripping core on him.

you think, belatedly, condom, but then toji is pulling you in for another kiss and for all you know megumi could come home any minute and you wouldn’t want to waste time like that. or so you tell yourself.

his hands guide your hips to grind over him, soft mewls coming out of you and being buried into the crook of his neck.

“pretty little girl, gonna ride me? hmm? gonna ride this old man’s cock?” you whine, nodding.

you press your front against his so you can lift your ass up and guide the tip into your entrance. you don’t expect to be able to take it all, but at least like this you can control the pace and how much of it is going into you, the only thing keeping you from panicking at the sheer size of him.

the head of toji’s cock doesn’t slip inside so much as it pops inside, the ridge locking just past your opening.

it’s too big, and even though you’re soaking wet, it’s still a stretch. you both groan in unison and you realize, this is it. this is your fantasy, you’re fucking toji fushiguro, megumi’s dad, your best friend’s dad.

your legs tremble as you hold yourself up, too soon to sink down more on his cock. toji’s playing with your nipples but you have a sneaking suspicion his patience isn’t going to last much longer.

you give it a valiant effort to take more in and it feels like being ripped in two. you clench your jaw, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple.

“fuuuuck, so fuckin’ tight,” toji spreads your ass cheeks with both hands, rubbing the thin skin where you two are connected. he thrusts up, feeding your poor pussy more of his cock, and you let out a scream. “take it, c’mon.”

“unghh—can’t, toji, hang on—“

“‘course ya can,” he fucks up into you again and you sob, nails raking down his chest. he hisses and slaps your ass in punishment. you realize you might really cry.

“i can’t, it’s too big, too much—“

“shhh,” in an uncharacteristic display of affection, toji kisses the furrow between your brows, snaking a thumb between you two to rub your clit.

you throw your head back, body torn between seeking more pleasure and running from the pain. you can hear how wet you are as toji fucks in and out of you, your plush walls hugging him so well, weeping around him.

he speeds up and you bury your face in his chest, moaning wantonly into his skin. toji lets out staccato grunts, working his cock further into you with each thrust.

“any scrubs your age givin’ it to you like this?” he breathes out, grabbing your ass hard and moving it up and down his length for you. you whine, drooling on him. “yeah, that’s right. fuck, take it, that’s a good girl.”

“ahh, toji—“

“that’s not my name, whore,” he fists your hair and drags your head back until your eyes meet. “try again.”

“fushiguro-san—“ that earns you a hard slap on your ass. you yelp — wrong answer.

“toji-sama—“ another slap, and this time he grips the reddening flesh viciously. you whine, squirming in his grip.

“little braindead cumslut,” he wipes a tear with his thumb. “who’s fucking this tight pussy right now? huh? tell me who's ruining this slutty cunt.”

“d—daddy?”

toji smiles, humming, his grip on you softening as he leans in for a kiss. “that’s right, sweetheart. show daddy how much you want it.”

it’s amusing to toji, you know it. he just wants to humiliate you because he’s aware of how badly you’ve wanted this. but it does something to you, it’s serious to you, it’s so fucking depraved and sexy to you.

he lifts you up with ease and lays you back down on the couch. you feel so empty suddenly that it makes you want to cry, like toji has already carved a home inside of you for his cock that no one else will ever be able to fill.

he wastes no time getting on top of you, hooking a hand under your leg and lifting it up onto his shoulder. your eyes widen immediately, a protest dying in your tongue. this position… his cock… it’s, god, it’s gonna be—

toji plunges in in one violent, perfunctory thrust. you let out a scream, your heel kicking toji square in the back as your body rises up from the couch. he’s all the way inside now.

you can feel him bruising your cervix, his balls, wet with a mixture of the two of you, slapping against your ass, his hip bones drilling into you.

“you’re so deep,” you look at him with panic in your eyes, chest gone cold at the overwhelming pleasure. “you’re so deep.”

toji laughs, pulling out to spit on his cock. he grabs your ankle and sets it on his shoulder. “yeah, baby, daddy’s all the way inside now. feels good, doesn’t it?”

“fuck. oh fuck,” you let out shaky breaths, allowing toji to lay more of his weight on top of you. your knee is by your head now and somehow in this position his cock seems to hit even deeper, to curve up exactly in the right spots that have you struggling to breathe. “you’re gonna break me.”

“takin’ me so well. just a natural slut aren’t ya,” he’s fucking you so fast now, wet, slapping sounds resounding across the whole house.

there’s a thick creamy ring at the base of his cock, frothy and bubbly with how much you’ve been gushing for him. toji presses a thumb against your clit and rubs tight little circles, making you squeeze against him like a vice.

he grunts, speeding up his movements.

“so sensitive, this cute little pussy. you a virgin?” he slaps it a few times, your wetness sticking to his fingers with every pat. “gonna cum soon, whore?”

you whine, nodding. you wrap both arms around toji’s neck and pull him closer, open mouth awaiting expectantly.

toji grins, spitting onto your tongue before leaning in to suck it.

“toj—daddy,” you moan against his mouth, “daddy, i’m close.”

you don’t recognize your own voice. it’s slutty, desperate, pitchy, juvenile. it's too far gone.

toji works your clit over and over again, fucking you harder than you’ve ever been fucked. he splays a hand over your stomach, kneading the place where his cock is nestled inside of you and hitting a spot that makes you lose control of your body and words.

“ah, ah, ah, oh god toji fuck daddy make me cum, please please can i cum—“

“oh, fuck,” his thrusts start to become erratic and you know he’s close too. you clench around him, one leg wrapping around his hips to make sure he stays inside until you're done. “cum on daddy’s cock, come on. make a mess, little girl.”

you throw your head back, burying it into the pillows as your entire body thrashes with your orgasm. you clamp around him so hard that you can't even tell where he ends and you begin.

toji takes no mercy on you, his messy cock plunging in and out of you fast.

“gonna fill up this pretty pussy, yeah?” you shake your head desperately, one hand punching his chest. he can’t finish inside of you, right? but why do you want it so bad? “no no no, don’t fuss now baby. you want daddy’s cum inside you, don’t you? wanna give megumi a baby brother? fuck yeah i know you do fuckin' take it whore fuuuuck, fuck i'm coming—”

he thrusts once, twice, three more times, knocking all air out of your lungs and the most ridiculous moans out of your mouth before he’s spilling into you, locking your legs like a fucking pretzel and biting down your neck.

you can feel it pulsing, spurting inside of you. you can feel both your heartbeats in your abused cunt, both of your juices combined and oozing out of you.

once you catch your breath, toji pulls out of you languidly, with a yawn. you two made a fucking mess, a sticky puddle on the couch right below your ass.

toji eyes it disinterestedly, much like how he’s eyeing you right now. your sweaty, messy, fucked out self, nearly melting on the fushiguro household’s sofa.

“ah. are ya on the pill or what?” he asks, like he just now remembered. after a few seconds you nod, a little incredulous. “heh. good.”

you slowly sit up, reaching for your sweatshirt to at least cover yourself up. you sneak a hand down to your cunt, fingers sliding through the mess there to dip inside you.

fuck, you’re gaping. toji well and truly ruined your pussy. it makes you panic a little bit, but it also makes pride swell within your chest, knowing you took it, all of it.

toji finally addresses you.

“i’m gonna go take a shower,” he looks behind his shoulder, sighing. he points at you. “we left the fuckin’ tv on. if this shit racks up my bills you’re gonna have to pay me back.”

you guffaw. “me? pay you how?”

he smirks.

“got one more hole i haven’t wrecked yet, dont’cha?” he flicks your forehead. you just sit there, incredulous, trembling legs, halfway to horny again. from the bathroom, toji calls out, “let yourself out. oh, and leave the vodka.”

A/N: lmfao! i got nothin to say in my defense. reblogs r very much appreciated

#✩.toji #✩.kinktober #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk kinktober #✩.tw daddy kink #✩.tw age gap #toji zenin #toji reader smut #✩.petra.doc #toji fushiguro x female reader #toji x female reader

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demonic0angel · 1 month ago

Note

Normal City spirit Danny except villain attacks are pretty much like horrific migraines or something for the poor dude. So basically he becomes Gotham's warning system. Like it takes a while for people to realize they've got their own mothman now except theirs is a white haired boy who looks like he's going through hell.

(At this rate, I should publish this lmaooo. A series of short events where Gotham Spirit City Danny watches over random Gothamites. It gets long 💀. Also, cw: kidnapping and physical violence towards a minor at the end)

Joel the gas station employee eyed the homeless looking teen that was across the store. Said teen was staring at a pack of yogurt covered pretzels, looking dazed as he just stared mindlessly.

Joel wanted to ask if he was actually alive, but decided not to, since this was Gotham and everyone was crazy.

He continued to count the coins in the tip jar, but out of the blue, he heard a voice.

“You should go to the back room.”

Joel looked up. “Sorry?”

The teen stared at him with bright blue eyes like glowing stars. In fact, he kind of looked like he belonged to the Waynes. But that wasn’t possible, because Joel didn’t recognize him at all.

Unless he was new? But surely not… Bruce Wayne usually gave some warning before. And this kid looked homeless.

“You should go to the back room,” the boy said again.

They stared at each other. Then Joel nodded stiffly and went. He wasn’t about to question the sudden order. Not in Gotham. But before he could leave entirely, the teen called out again, “I like your pin.”

Joel turned again slowly. “What?”

“I like your pin,” the boy said, pointing to the pin in Joel’s apron that said, ‘he/him motherfucker’ over a trans flag.

Joel blinked and then smiled. “Thanks!”

The boy gave a small smile back and waved a hand for him to shoo. Joel raised an eyebrow in exasperation but nodded and moved.

Just as he ducked behind the counter to move to the back room, there was a commotion and a sudden eruption of noise and gunshots nearby. It was clearly some sort of robbery, since there was a pretty successful bodega nearby that was run by an asshole. Several bullets hit the glass of the gas station window, striking exactly where Joel was standing just moments ago.

Joel’s jaw dropped.

When he looked back at the shelves, the kid was gone and so was the bag of pretzels. The perfect amount of pay was left on the counter. Extra tips included.

————

Lina stared at the boy who was sitting on the swing. However, he wasn’t swinging, just staring at the night sky.

When she looked up to see what he was looking at, she saw a surprisingly clear sky with sparkling stars. She watched in wonder for a moment before she looked away.

Lina wasn’t supposed to be outside right now, but her friend had told her that there was a cat that wandered around the playground at night. Lina had wanted to see it, so she snuck out. Now she kind of regretted it, being so cold while it was night. But since she was already out, she was determined to wait for the cat to come out.

“Mister,” Lina said, because her mom always told her to be polite, “Are you going to swing?”

The boy turned to her and then asked, “Want me to push you?”

Lina perked up and nodded. They switched places and the boy pushed her on the swing gently. He didn’t push her as high as he could’ve, but she didn’t mind. She was still waiting for the cat. Lina told the teen as such, and he smiled at her gently, freckles across his face glowing ever so slightly like stars whenever her flying shadow passed over his face.

“That’s nice, Lina. I’m sure it’ll come soon.”

And sure enough—

“Meow!”

“Kitty!” Lina called, and she jumped off the swing in her excitement. But before she could crash onto the ground, she was plucked from the air and gently deposited onto a flat surface. Lina turned to thank the boy, her heart pounding, but when she whirled around, he was gone.

She blinked. Where was he?

Something soft brushed against her legs and she looked down, where an orange tabby was rubbing against her ankles, mewing softly for attention.

She pet the cat for a little while. A feeling washed over her, like a gentle call from her mom to come home, and Lina said goodbye to the cat and turned back to the empty playground.

“Thank you, mister!” She called. She knew it was him who had brought the cat here. A feeling like fondness washed over her again and Lina skipped all the way back home. Her mom was still asleep and the TV was still playing, but things were good. Lina crawled into her mom’s arms and slept the entire night away, dreaming of cats and stars.

————

Elizabeth sighed as she tried to straighten her poor back. Ever since last year, her bones seemed to be feeling weaker and weaker by the day. She suddenly missed her husband, when he would’ve held her hand and they would’ve walked to wherever their hearts lead them together.

She clutched her cane and started moving again.

“Excuse me,” a voice called. “Do you need some help?”

She turned and stared at a young man. He looked scruffy and somewhat dubious, but Elizabeth had an excellent judge of character. In his eyes was a sort of kindness that she hadn’t seen in a long time.

She nodded. “Please. I’m trying to get to my doctor’s appointment.”

He tilted his head but reached out to steady her gently. Together, they walked slowly as he supported her. “Why not call for a taxi, ma’am?”

“It’s not dependable,” she said. “And I cannot get off or on easily. It’s easier to walk.”

That was a lie, but what could she do? She was too tired and too weak to call for a taxi and exit on and off of it by herself.

The young man nodded. “I see. Where’s your doctor appointment, ma’am?”

She pointed to the direction and together they walked. At first, it was pleasantly silent, but she eventually asked, “Tell me about yourself, son.”

The young man laughed lightly. “There’s not much to know. I’m just someone who’s trying to get by and help others.”

“That’s a good cause, sonny. This world could always use more kindness,” she patted his hand with her crooked fingers and he gave her a small and brilliant smile.

“I’m glad. I hope to make a difference every day.” She was focused on their feet as she tried to keep steady as to not inconvenience her helper. “Oh look,” he suddenly said, “we’re here.”

She looked up and true to his word, they were in front of the clinic she used for checkups. She blinked.

She was old, but surely she wasn’t old enough to hallucinate, was she? How on earth had they gotten here so fast?

She wasn’t able to question it as the young man led her inside. Elizabeth confirmed the appointment and she had expected him to leave once he had completed his task, but he stayed with her throughout. He sat down with her in the waiting room and they chatted about anything and everything under the sun.

Elizabeth had no children and no siblings. Her husband had died and her friends were also getting old. She was lonely, but this young man was accompanying her throughout the appointment and she felt endlessly grateful that Gotham City had not snuffed out another bright light just yet.

When she was called in, the young man still followed her inside and talked to her physician for her.

She was suddenly reminded of her father, who had died when she was 42. Her father had done everything he could to provide for her and her mother until he died from murder. She was starkly reminded of his protection and how she had mourned it when it was lost.

Elizabeth felt for the first time in a long time, like she was a young girl being protected by her father again.

When the appointment was over and Elizabeth was prescribed new medications, she was led outside by the young man again.

“Thank you so much, dear,” she said, a little teary eyed, “I appreciate the company and the help.”

The young man guided her to her apartment and said, “I’m just doing whatever I can as one person in this world. It’s the only thing I can do, y’know?”

They parted on good terms and it was only later as she sat in her home, that she realized that she had never asked for his name.

There was nothing to remember that kind young man by other than her waning memory and his act of kindness.

In her pocket, however, was a mysterious card for a free taxi service funded by Wayne Enterprises.

————

Tom and his friends were playing a game of heroes, with Red Hood as the hero and the other Bats as the villains. Tom was lucky enough to win the game of rock-paper-scissors and was Red Hood, valiant and brave with a pair of guns in order to protect Crime Alley.

“Alright, Batman!” Tom crowed. “This’s the end of the line for you!”

Maria, the only girl of the group, glared at him theatrically and flapped the ends of the jacket tied around her neck. “Red Hood, I’ll defeat you! For Justice!”

She waved her hand and their friends, who filled in the place of the other Bats, rushed at Tom with a war cry. Tom grinned and ran away from them with a loud laugh.

They passed through several alleys in their game of play, passing by no one but a boy with black hair and a girl with red hair. Tom didn’t really pay attention, just trying not to be tagged. But it didn’t matter, because no matter what, Red Hood was always able to get away and save the day!

Tom cheered as he pretended to shoot the Bats with his toy guns that he got for Christmas last year, and his friends all groaned and pretended to die dramatically. George, who was playing Red Robin, engaged in a fake battle with him as the others laughed and watched.

Tom was completely enthralled in their pretend play, when he suddenly froze with the sound of a car door being opened far too close and the sound of footsteps.

Oh no. Tom immediately grabbed at George and they were bolting down the streets they came from. They ran like their lives depended on it, because it quite literally did. But it was too late. Davis, one of the slower runners, was captured.

Tom turned and gasped at the sight of Davis struggling and kicking within the hold of a trafficker. “No! Get away from him!”

“Get the kids!” The man shouted as Davis screamed, and they all screamed as more men rushed into the alleys to grab them.

Tom screamed for Red Hood, Batman, anybody and popped off his fake guns. It did nothing but make loud sounds from the tiny amounts of gunpowder in it that Tom was saving. Still, he needed to do something. The sounds didn’t scare the men as they grabbed at him next.

Tom scratched and bit and struggled, but it was useless as he was hauled into the back of the van. Even as he knocked against the van’s door, making even louder noises to draw attention, it was hopeless as he was tossed inside. Jim, the smallest member of their group, was crying and Maria was knocked out, slumped next to a shuddering George. Alan and Davis were also captured and they were trembling.

There were also two other people, one with black hair and one with red hair. They seemed angry, and the teenage boy seemed especially cold while the young woman looked furious.

Tom glared at the traffickers. “You won’t get away with this! Red Hood is going to kill you!”

After all, Red Hood hated anyone who hurt kids. With him in Crime Alley, kids were now secure and safe under his protective wings.

Tom was immediately backhanded. He fell back, pain bursting from his cheek and he whimpered, tears in his eyes. Alan grabbed at him worriedly and pulled him away from the traffickers’ hands.

“Shut up, brat! Just wait and see! The Red Hood ain’t shit in these parts!” Then the door of the van closed. Tom and George lunged forward to bang on the door to no avail.

“Red Hood! Red Hood!! Help!”

As the van began to move, Tom choked back his tears. No, he couldn’t cry.

He was Red Hood for today. He was supposed to be brave.

Maria woke up then and started crying. The sound set off the other kids and Tom barely resisted crying too. Suddenly, the woman with red hair in the corner of the van opened up her arms. “Shh, shhh, come here.”

Realizing that there were adults in the situation, Jim and Maria went into her arms. She rubbed their heads and soothed them softly. Alan and George looked at her and the boy next to her with hope.

“Hey! Can’t you get us out?” George asked urgently.

The woman shook her head, but gave a small smile. “We’ll be okay. You just have to have hope.”

Tom bristled, scared for his life and irritated by the presence of other adults. His tears hadn’t fallen yet, but it was a very close thing. “So you don’t have anything? Figures.”

The boy spoke up, “Red Hood will come get you. You’ll be just fine.”

Tom looked down at the dirty floor of the van. How could he believe that now? He wanted to believe it, but what would he do if it was only false hope? If he and his friends got hurt, it would’ve been his fault because he was the one who led them too far away from home.

The boy gave a small smile, similar to the woman next to him. In fact, they were both weirdly comforting and familiar, like old family friends. He opened up his own arms and said, “Come here.”

Tom inched closer and leaned against him, as George and Alan also came closer. Davis squished himself between the two and all of them were being comforted by the two older people. Tom sniffed, and the teen started talking in a comforting tone, rubbing at his back.

“You’ll be okay. Close your eyes. When you wake up, Red Hood will be here to save you… that’s it. It’s alright, we’re here to protect you. Gotham City is on your side, little ones….”

When Tom snapped awake, he was shocked to find himself being held and carried by Red Hood. “Red Hood?!”

Tom startled, but the Red Hood just readjusted his grip and said, “Careful, kid. Your friends are over there.”

Tom leaned over Red Hood’s broad shoulders and looked for his friends. True to his words, they were next to Batman and the other Bats and Birds. Maria was being held by Batgirl and excitedly gesturing, while his other friends were chattering away to Batman, who was smiling.

Red Hood began to approach them.

“You did good,” Red Hood suddenly said. Tom looked up at him and the Red Hood tilted his helmet downwards at him. “You made a ruckus and got my attention. Good job.”

Tom looked guiltily down at his hands. “No… I was the one who led my friends too far… I got us captured.”

“It’s not your fault,” Red Hood said. “You’re not to blame because some sick ass— er, some sick jerks decided to take kids. You did good and that’s final.” He ruffled Tom’s hair.

Tom giggled and then nodded, chest warm. He couldn’t believe he was meeting his idol and was saved by him too! Then he asked, looking around for the woman with red hair and the other teen, “Where’re the other two?”

“Other two?” Red Hood asked curiously. “We only saw you six kids alone in the van.”

Tom paused for a moment and then shook his head. “Never mind. Musta been my imagination.”

Gotham City was a mysterious place. Who was Tom to question it?

However, he still silently thanked the two strangers. He was sure that they had been the ones to help them.

Some distance away, two spirits stood on the roof of a nearby building and watched the commotion.

“It’s a good thing we were able to find Jason in time, huh, Jazz?”

“Mhm. I’m glad those kids are going to be okay. Thank goodness the Bats responded in time.”

“Of course. With my protection and your help, we’ll help them save this city. So…. Meet up next week?”

“Yep! See you then, Danny!”

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #danny phantom x dc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #ask #danny fenton #jazz fenton #anon ask #gotham city spirit danny au #jason todd #ty for the ask :3 #this got so long #crime alley spirit jazz au #brief mention of cassandra cain and tim drake

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butchvampireheimerdinger · 26 days ago

Note

can we get butchfemme sevika/reader hcs please :3

GAWD yes. Lord, I've been waiting for this day lessgo

ButchFemme Sevika/Reader Headcanons

⚢ In typical butch fashion, her love language is acts of service

⚢ Loves to be fawned over ! Like “Omfg babe you’re sooo strong helping me put together furniture” and trust she is melting even though her face is expressionless and immoveable

⚢ She likes when you graze your long nails over her skin for back scratches and its all nice and light and tingly

⚢ She’s not much of a prettyboy (prettybutch…?) so she doesn’t really have a skincare routine but you have an extensive regimen so she memorizes all ur million little bougie products and gets you an extra to keep at ur place so you don’t have to eff up your skincare routine in favor of spontaneous sleepovers

⚢ Yeah she’s not too particular about her grooming in general. She lets you cut her hair even if you’re not super experienced with clippers. She still hypes you up even if you nick her ear when doing up her side shave/undercut.

“Oops! Sorry babe I think I got your ear…”

“Didn’t even feel it. You’re doing great baby keep going.”

⚢ On that note, pet names: For Sevika, its baby alll dayyyyyy ! She calls you baby, my girl, my pretty girl, my woman, etc. And as for what you call her, she always loves a “omg babe” moment. And “settle down there, cowboy” but in like a jesting sorta way. Also: “my butch.”

⚢ Stone top/pillow princess anybody?

⚢ Also: she’s ur cash cow. She loves buying you expensive shit and showing you off and showing off the expensive shit. You breathed in the direction of a particularly nice perfume? Surprise! It’s in your bathroom the following day. Like. It’s a theme. Especially in ur pre-relationship courting era. “Baby anything you want I get for you. Say the word I’ll buy for you the moon, the stars, et cetera, no one can provide for you like I can” blah blah blah

⚢ But you can’t be interrupting her card games tho. She’s like a teenage boy on the xbox with those things. Probs something to be worried about tbh.

⚢ And I’ve written this into a fanfic already, but that bitch wears boyshorts. I was thinking boxers for a while but I think that would be too much bulk over them skinny little plants she wears. I am a Sevika boyshorts TRUTHER

⚢ And she works out. Matter of fact, forget the prettybutch comment because Sevika WORKS OUTTT and I think she has resistance bands. Like she goes to an actual gym but around the house you’ll find her repping with those damn resistance bands to relieve stress or just cause she sees them and remembers.

⚢ And she works out to like. Classical music. Cause she’s a classy mothafuckaaa just absolutely getting ripped and her face is in a scary ass sneer but there's like ode to joy in the background

⚢ You pack her lunch. She gets flamed at work cause her paper bag is covered in lil hearts and stickers and kissy lipstick marks and its filled with sugary baked goods like pink sparkly cupcakes and fruity pastries cause u can’t cook. But by gawd u can bake.

⚢ That being said, she’s the cook in the relationship. Especially when it comes to meat. It’s problematic. Sevika’s version of “girl dinner” is straight up protein. Her typical meal is like. A rotisserie chicken + hard boiled eggs. It made you gasp the first time you saw her pull out one of her meal prep tins and it was just that.

⚢ Oh yeah and she meal preps

⚢ Claims she “doesn’t get sick” because her “immune system is just built different.”

⚢ When she does get sick, she refuses to chill out and let herself be sick and she tries to speedrun her way to health by taking too much vitamin C and then working out and cranking the heat to “sweat it out quicker.”

⚢ She knits to relieve stress

⚢ Sleeps topless and in undies. And a wife pleaser tank if its chilly.

#arcane fanfiction #arcane #sevika headcanons #sevika hcs #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika smut #arcane headcanon #arcane league of legends #arcane season 2 #arcane s2 #arcane fanfic #arcane fic #arcane smut #vamp does arcane hcs #vamp does sevika hcs

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heegyukeluv · 5 months ago

Text

a hundred sunsets (sjy)

pairing: jake x afab!reader

synopsis: Using a dating app in order to find a lover rarely worked properly to you, which was the reason you never planned to do so. But bumping into someone so charming as you texted your possible future love interest wasn’t on your plans either.

my's note: hello!!! it's not only my first time writing in english but also my first time using tumblr to post a story i’m honestly kinda nervoussjdjdjs. a few things I want to say before anything: those are fictional characters, also i know almost nothing when it comes to other country’s educational systems sooo i’m sorry if something is off, and mostly important: enjoy!!!

i wasn't planning to write this much but i think i got a little carried away lol

warnings: quick mention of alcohol (all characters are of age!), slow burn kinda?, at least one ‘kms’ joke srry, strangers to friends to lovers, pet names (sweetheart, pretty, sugar, etc..), lot of language, jake is downnn baddd, there’s a slightly jay x y/n moment (they go on a date lol) but not too much dw!!!, reader blushing/turning red! eventual smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) - jake is kinda a sub, oral sex (both), unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), j. cums inside (consensual), overstimulation (m), slight dacryphilia. enha’s jay, sunghoon and heeseung + lesserafim’s yunjin and chaewon as side characters. LMK IF I FORGOT SOMETHING.

wc: 22k

NOT PROOFREAD.

EXTRA (epilogue kinda?)

As comfortable as your couch was and even though you very much loved watching “Pitch Perfect”, that wasn't the fun weekend you had planned, actually you didn't plan anything at all. But there you were, licking your fingertips in order to clean up the salt flakes of the chips you devoured during the last minutes.

It wasn't like you really cared about what your lifestyle was turning into during the few months that passed by, opting to stay at home doing your little things here and there, taking a fair break from the crazy parties at suspicious places alongside a lame try to hang out with very random people...

The initial excuse of "I'll focus more on my studies" was holding a bit, however you couldn't help but feel bored at your choices at this point.

You sighed, opening the message app on your phone and re-reading the last texts you received in your friend group.

Jinnie 💘: my sweet little y/n i’ve been here watching you ROT down in your apartment and i’m tired!!! sure you don’t wanna party anymore or wtv BUT FOR GOD’S SAKE i love you but truth be said YOU NEED TO GET LAID!!!! download the app pleeeeasseeee it’s not like you’re gonna match with a weirdo (i guess Chaebae 💖: Worst case scenario you just call me and I go to rescue you with my very muscly arms Best case scenario you win a good fuck !

You laughed again at the texts, picturing Chaewon with her baby face and a very packed body. Would she be able to really punch someone on the face in order to protect you? For sure she would. And she didn't even need muscly arms or whatever.

Being friends for God knows how long you thought about trusting them. They wouldn’t try to mislead you, right?

You always had little to no interest in dating apps. The few times you tried you constantly felt like you were practically selling yourself as some product with specific traits, where the buyer doesn't have enough chance to get to know more parts of you before anything, chasing for the next step so eagerly.

Although your heart beats fast for people you just met seemingly outwardly interesting, the real feeling of wanting to be with them, to go out on dates, to trust enough to let parts of yourself to be shown comfortably needs time and usually grows slowly.

You never really dated anyone in order to fulfill momentary desires, your own body wouldn't let it happen as you lose interest as soon as you feel too pressured by the other part or when the connection wasn’t clicking right.

Chaewon and Yunjin were different though. They had the free spirit to just hit that one night stand and be happy about it. You were happy about it, loving to listen to their crazy dates and nights out, sharing the most terrific stories about it while drinking some wine on your balcony.

Nevertheless, you were kinda desperate. Your last relationship ended one year ago, the one you rooted for a very long time – two years and five months, to be exact, until one day you caught him cheating on you with one of his "best friends that you don’t have to worry, baby". Very much cliché but also a big trauma in your life, leading you to this very moment of neediness but not enough courage to trust someone again.

Since then you have been hooking up once and a while with random people you met at parties, but never felt right or enough especially because you tried so hard to either not get attached – and with that lose the brief sexual interest – or on the very other side of the hand, to build up some kind of relationship.

Every single one turning into a big failure.

Sighing again, your fingers typed on the screen keyboard.

You: Can you send me the name again? Chaebae 💖: OH??? YUNJIN Jinnie 💘: I KNOW [LFS] hope you enjoy!! hihi You: What's with the acronym lol Chaebae 💖: "Love at First Sight" You: Oh god And you rly think it’s a good idea? Chaebae 💖: ..yeah? Jinnie 💘: a great idea actually! You chuckled. What could go wrong?

Everything went wrong.

Not every single thing, but a bunch for sure.

You didn’t know if your taste was too specific or if overall men were just that boring. You had good features, your pics weren’t that bad either and your personality… Liking video games, some astronomical stuff, movies and dogs couldn’t be a big red flag, right?

But every match got you thinking “what happened to the old ‘hi, how are you?’”. Maybe because of those exact traits you put on display made the weird nerds attracted to you as a potential match, thinking their fantasies would be fulfilled by you.

Of course you understand people on those kinds of apps sometimes have very clear goals setted, but how frustrating is it to try to have a good conversation and the least creepy answer be “is it weird that i want you sucking me while i play league of legends? lmao”?

No matter how defeated you were feeling you weren’t one to give up. And that leads to this very moment as you type fast on your phone with your current attempt.

Park Jongseong, or just Jay, was hot. Like, very hot. And his talking wasn’t going to weird places so far, which at this point was a big win. He was funny and somewhat endearing, sharing avidaly about his travels and his music interests with so much passion that you started to rethink your own life choices thus far – was the ongoing college degree a good choice? Should you give up everything and start to live as an artist?

Lost in your train of thoughts about maybe having found somebody worthy of your time as you walked down the hallway heading to your next lecture of the day, you didn’t expect to hit your face straight into someone’s chest. A very strong and hard chest by the way, you thought briefly, scented with some woody essence that got straight into your senses. The sweet voice of the owner wasn’t expected either.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!”, the boy uttered with a worried tone looking down at you trying to see if he had hurt you in some way. You almost didn’t catch his thick accent. “Are you okay?” he questioned softly, still concerned. You blinked a few times before coming back to reality, looking up confused at his face and answering hurriedly with slightly widened eyes.

“I’m the one who should be sorry! God, I’m so stupid, I should be more careful,” you started to blather as you lost yourself in that pretty face you just hit into. The whole combo was breathtaking. Plump glossy red lips and puppy eyes full of worry; the silky brown hair was just as normal as any other brown hair but what the fuck was that face? “I was looking down at my phone and I didn’t see y–”, you were interrupted by the honeyed voice again “I mean, I was also using my phone and didn’t see you either,” he chuckled. “You’re fine, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened even more at the same time as a smirk decorated his beautiful lips. You don’t know what got you more flustered, the pet name or the double meaning of that simple phrase. You could feel your cheeks burning hard and your first instinct was to look down to the floor and wonder if hiding yourself beneath the tile was a good option.

“Well, sorry again,” he said and you forced yourself to swallow down the saliva that got stuck on your throat and to look up again, facing now a cute small and shy smile that made your heart beat fast. Too fast. “See ya!” and just like that he went his own way, not even waiting for your response.

You were sure someone had glued the sole of your shoes on the ground while you two had that small and awkward talk, because there’s no way your legs stopped working properly just because of him.

You looked over your shoulder in order to see his back going away but it was already too late, since he wasn’t around anymore. You thought to yourself he was certainly a new student, because you would have noticed him sooner. How could you not?

His chocolate eyes and sweet voice were the only things on your mind as you picked up your phone to text back Jay, trembling a bit from the encounter still.

You: of course we can see each other this friday!! :)

You tried your best to fully focus on your upcoming assignments, but your library time has reduced quite a bit and even in your house your attention was wandering constantly. For the last three days you walked around your whole campus trying so hard to bump into that good-looking visage one more time, going back and forth that hallway hoping to see that guy.

Describing his appearance to Chaewon and Yunjin didn’t help a bit, especially because everything you could remember was his sweet voice, his silky brown hair and his very beautiful smile. Just like any other guy.

But he wasn’t.

He looked smooth, confident and whatever other compliment you could build to him – like, you never really met him to know more than just the appearance, and his looks exuded that so you just guessed. The fucking “sweetheart” coming from his mouth sounded too good for your own heart. And that was everything you got from him. Not even a glimpse of something else like what classes he got or anything like that.

“I don’t know, I’m starting to worry you are seeing ghosts or making people up, girl”, Yunjin said as her hands unwrapped her sandwich right before she took a big bite.

“I’m not!” you whined with a pout. “I swear to god he exists. I need him to exist. He’s too fine,” you whispered the last part, even though they both heard you.

“This is definitely something someone who is starting to see things would say, y’know that, right?” Chaewon said with a laugh, making you chuckle a bit because, well, it’s true. How does one prove a person exists given that no one but you saw him?

The campus was big enough for you not to see him ever again, however after the quick encounter you noticed he walked towards the end of the hallway, to classes that only someone with an area of study similar to yours would go to.

“This is frustrating,” you stated, looking at the people wandering around still hoping to see him. Your lunch already forgotten in front of you.

“Don’t you have a date in like a few hours?” Chaewon questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Shouldn’t we be worrying about you and that hot Jay guy instead of you and the we-don’t-even-know-if-he-exists guy?”

“She’s right, baby,” Yunjin added. “Jay looks adorable. You should focus on him.”

You nodded defeated, sighing and forcing yourself to re-read your texts with the said guy. “You’re right”, you smiled a bit.

Jay: Looking forward to our date tonight! <3

You: yeah, me too :)

And just like that the afternoon has arrived and you got yourself in a dilemma of clothing and accessories and shoes and makeup and even between your perfumes! Everything seemed terrible together, nothing was right, no cloth piece looked good enough to match Jay’s insane visuals and taste in style. Through his photos you noticed the way he fashioned himself, wearing fancy brands with a generous constancy, looking too good for yourself.

You were on the verge of crying when Yunjin called you, as if she felt in her guts you needed her.

“Hey,” you answered the call, quickly accepting the change to a video call and propping your phone on your desk. “How we doin’, baby?” She asked curiously with a big excited smile. “Why aren’t you ready yet?” You noticed she had makeup on and was doing her hair while talking to you.

“Not doing well, Jinnie…” you pouted, looking at the mess around you. You were dealing with a lot of emotions at the same time and felt so lost. “I don’t know what to wear,” you said sincerely. “I feel like nothing I have here is enough to match Jay’s.”

In your defense, it’s been a long time since you ever went on a date, especially a dinner date and with someone so elegant like Jay.

You weren’t expecting Yunjin almost screaming at you. “Don’t you dare to say anything like that ever again!” You startled. “Y/N, you will look good in any clothing you decide to wear, because you are hot. Not your clothes or accessories or anything. They just complement your own beauty!”

While Chaewon normally was the one who would speak up for the whole group in terms of defending her girls, Yunjin worked on the other part of bringing the mood and the self esteem up. And both of them always did a great job.

“You are so fucking right, Yunjin,” she smiled proudly after you spoke, continuing her job on doing her hair.

You looked around one more time, getting out of the frame just to change yourself in a simple black dress long enough to cover half of your tights and the exact amount of tightness that hugged your curves with close perfection. “Thoughts?” You appeared again in front of the camera after a few minutes of trying some accessories.

“Sexy. And pretty. You are so getting laid tonight!” You chuckled. “I think I’m not the only one, though?” You wiggled your eyebrows playfully and she just giggled, before saying a quick goodbye and ending the call.

Just like you, she had things to get done.

Putting on some lip gloss as a final touch, you were ready. And just in time as you felt your phone vibrating inside your purse with Jay's text.

Jay: I’m here :) You: Coming!

The big car greeting the door of your building was expected at some point, nonetheless your shocking expression was hardly disguised with a nervous smile. As Jay stepped out of his car, you quickly analyzed his outfit and had to take a breath because his white button up shirt with the sophisticated black trousers was getting yourself out of orbit. You felt a little dizzy when his hand positioned on your waist as he leaned to greet you with a little kiss on the cheek and a pretty smile.

He opened the door for you and when you both had settled down on the car seat, he said “You look great, Y/N”. With his help, you put on the seatbelt and thanked with a kind smile. "You look good yourself too, Jay."

The drive to the restaurant was quite normal, a few words being exchanged here and there, the conversation was pretty ordinary. You were a pile of nerves and you had to almost physically stop yourself from moving your legs up and down due to the feeling of anxiety. It’s not like Jay was making you uncomfortable, but you didn’t felt too comfortable either. The whole fancy type of thing was getting you too hesitant for a first date. You were more like a cafe date girly, stargazing at some open air park or maybe a picnic. Now you were blaming yourself for not letting that out beforehand.

Jay parked the car at the parking lot. “We’re here”, his voice broke you out of your mind and when you glanced up at the restaurant you felt like dying inside.

Too fancy.

“It’s… amazing,” was everything that slipped out your mouth as you got out of the car with Jay’s help. “I’m glad you liked it, princess.”

The pet name didn’t get you the much you hoped it would, actually it made you think about the fucking hallway guy and his smooth “sweetheart” saying, sending shivers down your spine.

When both of you reached the table reserved under the name Park Jongseong and you looked through the menu, you knew you were fucked up. With no shame, though, you asked “Could you order for me? I know little to no ingredients on this paper.”

Jay let a small breathy laugh and nodded ordering for both of you. He picked a wine impressively saying the name and the year and whatever other things wines have in its description trying to impress you. However, your focus was on the view that you finally noticed on your right side that faced a big window. The night sky was impressive and the moon was shining prettily.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked after sipping a bit of his wine. “Yeah, it’s incredible. I love the moon, actually I–” you didn’t had the chance to even start on your probably long talk about how much interested you are in the moon, being cutted of by Jay.

“Did you know that once I almost had the chance to go to the moon?” Your head snapped so fast towards his direction that you thought you would break your neck. “What?” The discredited and doubtful expression adorning your face was so clear still you were not afraid of showing it off.

With that, you discovered a not so good part of Jay: his somewhat annoying and exaggerated personality of trying to impress you with exorbitant things, too different from the texts you guys had exchanged. You had no interest knowing that his first birthday present was diamonds or that his dad bought him a car even before he turned eighteen. Let alone that he traveled to every single place you said during the conversation.

The way he would blurt out interrupting you in order to say "It's so amazing there! You would love the beaches and the museums, and the..." so it goes, every single time was really angering you.

Feeling left out in a duo talk was a new experience to you. How could someone be so full of himself and act like his life is the only one that matters? His gentlemanly aura was falling down very fast.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying our date,” he pointed with elegance when you went full quiet, looking directly at you. You sipped a bit of the wine that actually tasted too bad for your palate, noticing how half of your food was left out on your plate. You forced yourself to eat as much as you could handle, but the aftertaste of that food was worse than the taste itself.

“Oh, now you noticed me,” you artificially smiled.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, a bit offended. You got nervous, but didn’t let that get on you. “I mean that for the past two hours all you talk about is yourself. At first I was like ‘okay, this is how we know each other!’, but since then I haven’t had the chance to talk about anything related to myself, like my likings or whatever,” you vented, having to take a deep breath and drink some more wine afterwards.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t get it,” Jay seemed honestly confused.

“Are you stupid?” the question slipped your tongue a bit too fast for your own thinking. You widened your eyes and covered your mouth with your hand. “I’m sorry I–”

“I don’t think I’m stupid, but I really don’t get it. It’s my first date in a while and I don’t really remember having to listen to the girls at all…”

Squinting, you questioned genuinely, “What do you mean? Like, the girls you took out on dates just… listened to you bragging about diamonds and travels?” He kinda mimicked your expression and replied as if it was obvious “...Yeah…”

After you blinked a few times you recomposed yourself and drank the whole wine on your glass at one go wishing you could just get drunk enough to forget that night. Jay watched you with a fazed expression as you got up from your chair. “I’m sure you’ll find someone that likes you the way you are. But with all due respect, to me, you kinda… Y’know. So I’m leaving.” You pointed with your thumb to your back, not even knowing if the exit was that way. “It was… an experience, I think.” You forced a smile. “Do I have to pay for something?”

“No, don’t worry about that,” he was quick in his response, feeling a bit ashamed and soon adding “But I can get you home, you just have to wait for me to p–”

“Nah, I’m fine. I’ll call a cab or whatever,” you interrupted him as soon as you could, not wanting to spend any more second with him. Being in a closed space with him for more than a few seconds would be too embarrassing.

“Y/N, come on. It’s the least I can do for you. You don’t have to walk alone at night, it can be dangerous.” You sighed, tapping his shoulder softly when you got closer to him. “Jay, it’s fine. It was not meant to be,” you tried to sound certain but what left your mouth was a mix of sneering with a doubtful tone. When he said nothing more, you left.

You were free. And also hungry. And a bit tipsy.

Maybe it was not the best idea to walk alone at that time of the night, but somehow you managed to feel better outside than with Jay. He was great, but definitely not for you.

You questioned yourself if calling Yunjin or Chaewon or maybe both could be a good idea, but knowing them they would show up in no time and try to beat the crap out of Jay and you weren’t in the mood to witness a murder. Actually all you needed was food. And maybe a cozy place. Nevertheless you typed on your phone just to update your girls.

You: Date went down the hole Guy’s kinda suck ngl Chaebae 💖: WDYM ARE YOU OKAY DO YOU NEED ME TO GET THAT BASTARD OR WHAT WHAT DID HE DO WHERE ARE YOU Jinnie 💘: i’m very much drunk rn but tell me his address and i'll kick his ass and get you home or are you home already?

You laughed at the quick replies you received and typed some reassurance to them while continuing your walking process. Your goal at that point was to find a convenience store where you could get some lamen and perhaps a soda.

While you wrote down your last message walking slowly not to trip, you bumped into someone, face straight to their chest.

Firm and cunning hands held you by the waist since you lost balance because of your heels, preventing you from falling. Before you could even say anything, that fucking woody essence went directly through your senses and it was as if history was reescribing itself, like a gift from fate. This time, you were fully in his arms.

You looked up. “I’m so– Oh, you again?” He showed his charming smile. Because of the proximity you noticed how the corner of his lips were a bit curvy. So attractive and for what?

Just like the last time, you blinked twice before realizing what really was happening, feet fixed on the ground. “I’m starting to consider that you like bumping into my chest, sweetheart,” he said with a grin, his mentoled breath hitting straight on your face.

Thank god his hands still held your waist, otherwise you would definitely fall. Your baffled expression had him chuckling a bit. “Did I hurt you?” he asked with care, looking directly at your eyes. His pretty chocolate eyes were hidden behind black specs this time.

You kept gazing stupidly at him like he was a distinct specie, an alien or something, not being able to say a word. Your throat was dry, you were sure you had lost the ability of talking. “Have you forgotten how to talk, pretty one?” He sniggered and bold but gently placed a strand of your hair behind your ear with his free hand. You shivered and almost leaned into the touch. “I remember you having such an endearing voice,” and just like that you finally let your body respond and blushed, taking a deep breath while starting to move away from him “I’m sorry, I didn’t see yo–”

“Cut that off, sweetheart," he let you go, making sure you were stable on your feet. You missed the warmth of his body on yours right away. Also you took your time to appreciate his clothing. The deep red shirt with white stripes covered with a black jacket looked too good on him. "I’m worried our encounters will keep happening like this. You might end up getting hurt for real,” the concerned tone did not go unnoticed, even mixed with the teasing-flirtatious one.

Your eyes wandered his face quickly before you let out a chuckle and diverted your attention away. You decided to ignore the buzzing sound of your phone as you put it inside your purse. “That wouldn’t be fun, would it?”, you said.

“Definitely not,” you looked back at him, caughting the shining eyes staring at you already like all he had down his sight was you. “A beautiful face like yours cannot be hurt, am I right?” And again there was that too attractive sly smile adorning his lips. You decided to smile back but shyly yet unable to hold the visual contact for more than a few seconds, cheeks still reddened.

“I don’t know you enough to say that but you seem a bit… off”, he was now looking at you with his gleaming puppy eyes, head slightly tilted to the side. “Yeah, I might be a little bit tipsy.”

Normally you would be mad at the fact the small amount of wine was hitting that hard, blaming your weakness towards alcohol for making you feel kinda dizzy and too bold for your own good – you internally debated if that dizzines came from the alcohol or from other sources, like the very good looking man standing in front of you.

Still you thanked the fearless feeling running through your veins at that very moment, otherwise where would you find enough courage to say what you said next?

“Are you down to get some lamen at some random convenience store with me?”, you had no idea what your words could mean to him and honestly weren’t expecting much, but as soon as his face lit up like you told him he won a good amount of money, you felt victorious. “Is this your way of flirting? Because if it is, it’s working on me.”

“That’s good to know, nameless boy”, you scoffed with a seductively undertone, the little smirk on your lips and your now boldness to maintain eye contact making him laugh as a failed attempt to hide his flustered self. The next moment you both were greeting each other with a quick handshake after he offered his hand to you. “I’m Jake”.

The hallway boy finally got a name, and not only that, you were now sure of his existence.

Sitting on a bench at the little shop you managed to find, the angry owner’s expression facing you two was as clear as crystal water and got you thinking if you were being too loud. Without caring much you just let it be, since being with Jake apparently meant you will be noisy eventually. It was not necessarily his fault, the both of you just shared too many common interests that made it difficult not to get overly excited during the conversation.

It all began with just a normal “no way you like this flavor!” – with a very strong Australian accent from his side – and since then the flow went smoothly. His company had been greatly enjoyable so far and you let yourself be more and more comfortable about sharing some self information.

For example at some point you discovered he was a physics student, and with that you instantly shared about your love for the moon – also the lack of acknowledgement about it. You explained that you were affectionate to the moon because of its beauty, shining brightly in the sky even when behind heavy clouds. Looking at it always made you feel somehow free, especially when some breeze hits your body simultaneously.

Jake carefully listened to you with fond eyes and after you finished, he started to explain a bit of theory to you, sounding too smart. He looked very attractive saying words you didn’t even know the meaning behind and you noticed you were paying way too much attention to the way his charming lips were moving as he did so.

And just like that you traveled around many subjects. You being more emotional and Jake more rational, respectfully giving each other the chance to speak, constantly but easily finding ways to match one’s energy. You finally felt heard that night. And one of the topics being, of course, the whole date situation.

“Ok, so what you’re telling me is that this Jay guy told you about his whole financial status, which I admit makes me kinda envious, and you still managed to end up here with me at some very random convenience store eating cheap lamen?”, he shook off the empty package of said lamen, staring at you with an amusement look.

“Yep,” you nodded, slurping the last bite of your food. “And also I called him stupid.”

“At his face,” he completed the very important piece of information, finishing his food as well. Jake licking his lips to clean it up didn’t go unnoticed by you. “I swear if I was Jay I would be crying right now,” he stated as a fact and you groaned.

“Don’t make me feel bad for him, please,” you uttered with a whine and he laughed at you, his eyes turning into little crescents as he did so. “I swear he was nice and prolly had good intentions, but y’know…” you left unfinished, but Jake concluded for you. “He bragged about diamonds hoping you would fall for him or something.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head before drinking the last sip of your soda, “yeah, definitely not my type.”

Jake decided to restrain the urge of asking what your type would be, a little afraid he was off league. “Well, at least you got on a date with me,” he sneered. You chuckled.

“I knew I would hit my pretty face directly on your so toned chest when I walked out that date,” you said sarcastically and then added “that’s why I decided to go in the first place.”

You were feeling way better now, belly full of good food that really pleased your taste buds and not drunk anymore, although you still let the boldness command your words through the talking once and while. You found out that behind Jake’s flirtatious and teasing way of speaking to you, there was also a very sheepish boy that would get flustered from time to time, like right now. He laughed off and drank the rest of his soda in order to run away from your very sharp but playful eyes.

Jake was so entertained by you. The way you expressed yourself so cheerfully and vibrantly. Whenever some topic of your liking was on the track your eyes would instantly get an almost childish sparkle as your hands motioned in a very exciting way and your detailed explanations would be voiced out.

Also he discovered you were a lot more confident than he thought you could be. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t liking this side of yours, audaciously flirting with him whenever you got the chance to do so, without holding back your bold responses. The feeling of the top of his ears burning knowing they were very much red was starting to become common for him. He did not had to know that you not only noticed his reactions, but was loving every minute.

Despite that, he tried to keep his cool.

“What are you up to after here, sugar?”, Jake asked forcing a nonchalantly tone while playing with the rings adorning his fingers, and yet again you were forced to remember the fucking cute pet names that got you flushed everytime he dared to say them. You looked away for a bit before answering.

“I don’t know, maybe go home… Watch some videos until I fall asleep”, you shrugged. Early on that day you weren’t expecting to find yourself in a situation like that, actually the whole program was to get “dicked down” – as Chaewon worded. However, you weren't disappointed either with how the evening turned out to be.

“Come on, Y/N,” your name went out too smoothly on Jake’s plumpy lips, his honeyed voice never failing to make you flutter slightly. Still you tried to keep your composure. “It’s friday and you’re wearing such a beautiful dress to what? To go home, watch videos and sleep?” He mocked the last part and you chuckled before lazily smiling in his direction, fully facing him. You recognized the tiredness starting to consume your body slowly which did not go unnoticed by Jake. Your tinted cheeks from the compliment also did not go unnoticed by him.

“And what would you recommend me to do, Jakey?”

“Jakey?” He raised an eyebrow, liking the way you pronounced the nickname a bit too much, thinking it was definitely something he could grow used to.

You just kept smiling, looking up at him through your eyelashes. You perceived how close on the seat you both were as if a magnet pulled you two together through that night, your bare shoulder slightly brushing against his clothed one from time to time.

“To be honest I just wanted an excuse to point out how gorgeous you are in this dress,” he licked his bottom lip as a habit while you didn’t even have the chance to properly receive the compliment, Jake being too smooth with it. “I don’t have any good recommendations, but if you’re down we c–”

The sound of your phone ringing interrupted Jake’s possible plans, making both of you startle. You saw Yunjin’s name on the screen and wondered whether to answer or not.

“Aren’t you gonna pick up?” Jake asked with curiosity.

“Actually, yes I will,” you remembered you left your friends hanging on your texts and have been unintentionally ignoring them, so it was only fair to give a quick update just to make them sure you are still alive.

“Hi baby”, you picked up the call with a smile, hearing a very drunk Yunjin on the other side. “No, I’m not home yet”, Jake watched as you talked on your phone with a neutral expression. He himself feeling a bit worried with the usage of nicknames and with your cute tone towards the person.

He knew you just went out on a date, assuming that you were at least looking to have some fun, however that fact should not be enough to stop you from being unavailable. Jake thought that a pretty girl like you probably already had a love interest in line.

“Don’t worry, Jinnie. You don’t have to come pick me up”, you glanced over at Jake who was now paying too much attention to the table in front of him, lost in his own mind and also trying to give you some privacy. You grinned, “I’m not alone.” Jake accidentally heard a very loud “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE NOT ALONE?” through your phone and had to hold back a laugh. “I’m with… Someone,” you kept your eyes on him as you spoke to Yunjin, grabbing his attention when you indirectly mentioned his presence. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?” and then you ended the call with a “Love you, bye.”

“I didn’t mean to hear it, but I’m intrigued…” you knew where Jake was going with that, so you just kept your smile. “‘Someone’, huh?” He said with a smirk, clearly messing with you.

You turned your head to someplace else because no matter how bold you can be sometimes, the following line that you let out made you hesitate a bit beforehand.

“Well, in my defense I don’t plan to introduce you to my friends through my phone, let alone as a mere guy I just met,” although you tried to keep your cheekily tone, it was obvious how shy you were feeling, gazing briefly at Jake’s direction as you said.

Jake hadn’t noticed until now that he was holding his breath a little, relievedly letting it out as he watched your pretty face and expressions. Regardless, the whole phrase made his head spin, replacing previous thoughts with new, more intense ones, all at once. What do you mean by that?

“Then how are you planning to introduce me?” he boldly questioned leaning towards you a little in order to find a way to look you in the eye again, finding adorable your demeanor right now breaking every little eye contact way too quickly.

You giggled.

Jake thought he had just found his favorite sound in the world.

“We’ll see, Jakey.”

Jake rode you home.

He noticed how lazy your hooded eyes started to look and decided to end the “date” instead of taking you to somewhere else, which you particularly found endearing. The bar was low, you admitted to yourself, but a cute guy being considerate for your entertainment other than just leading you anywhere else for his own amusement made your heart flutter.

However, the moment he offered to take you home you immediately refused, emphasizing that he didn't need to worry and that you would not let him waste gas for nothing. The reply he gave was a not so subtle “I don’t care”, alongside with “I’ll not let you freeze outside waiting for a cab and I don’t trust you enough to let you borrow my jacket for tonight,” making you laugh at his little mischievous tone, especially because as soon as you both were in his car he put his black jacket on your shoulders.

“I thought you don’t trust me enough to have it?” You referred to the jacket, feeling too inebriated by its smell.

“There's a big difference between leaving it to you alone without knowing if you'll ever hand me back and letting you have it under my watch, sweetheart.” His smug face looked too charming as he spoke and the damn sweetheart again got to you with ease. You chuckled while watching the street lights passing by.

The ride was calmer than you expected. The radio played on some random station working as a beautiful background to the soft words exchanged between you two. You noticed Jake’s attractive side profile as he focused on the road rambling some physics thing in a very excited way. Your body felt too tired to keep any thoughts on track, leading you to just listen to his sweet voice embracing you mildly until you both arrived in front of your apartment building.

Of course he didn’t let you open the door and also helped you to get out. The touch of his warm hand under yours sended a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you for the ride, Jake,” you said with a gentle smile.

“My pleasure, sugar,” your cheeks reddened hard as you started to take off his jacket. “You don’t have to,” he shook his hand in front of him, refusing to get the clothing piece back. You looked at him with a stunned-confused expression, lips parted a bit. Before you could even protest he interrupted you. “I need an excuse to see you again, right?” And send you a wink.

As if he said just a normal thing, he confidently got back to his car, letting behind a very flustered you.

Little did you know how shaky his hands rested on the wheel as he drove off, looking forward to meeting you again.

Of course you had to spend your whole weekend waiting for Monday to come – a peculiar behavior you admitted to yourself. But neither you nor Jake got each other's phone number so all you could do was to wait and hope for the best. You didn’t even know if you would meet him again at the campus because you searched for him nonstop the last few days and never got the chance to do so, making you regret even more about not getting any information about where to find him.

His jacket rested on your desk chair as you deeply stared at the little stars adorning your bedroom ceiling. Stars that remembered how shiny Jake’s eyes looked when he started to talk about Theory of relativity or anything like that. You also remember paying just enough attention to understand and to keep the talking flow, focusing more on the way his lips moved as doing so.

You groaned, rolling on your bed sheets. How long a weekend can be? You were acting like a teenager for having a crush on a stranger! You knew little to no things about Jake. You knew his age – one year older than you, you knew his majoring and you also found out the reason behind him being at your campus block – he had to deliver some paperwork to a friend of his. But other than some common interests and his music taste, that was it.

Was him a good person? He showed you a good personality for sure, to the point your heart sank with the idea of losing all that excitement to see him again just because he’s good looking and has a great talk. Still you kept questioning yourself. What if he was the player type? Just hitting for one night stand and that’s it?

Monday morning arrived but you did not had enough time to develop any more thoughts when you got to the university. As soon as you reached it, Chaewon and Yunjin flooded you with a very long investigation about what the hell happened that friday.

Talking in person was always an option for the three of you, the feeling of looking eye to eye and reading each other's expressions was more interesting than having to guess it over a phone or video call. Normally you three would pick a place to go and have a little "friends date" and talk about the stuff that happened for hours. However this time you choose to use the excuse you were busy studying, having too many assignments left behind which neither of them bought it from you.

“So Jay sucks?” Chaewon asked. “I don’t like putting it like that,” you murmured. “But yeah, we just didn’t hit it off, y’know?” You just shrugged.

You three were walking towards the class you shared that morning, not caring much about being a little late.

“Baby, you’re too nice,” Yunjin hugged you sideways and smiled at you. “You can say a man is stupid.”

“Actually I did,” you smiled mischievously and they both looked at you with shocked expressions. “Not my proudest moment, but I said it to his face. Unintentionally, I swear!”

Chaewon and Yunjin broke down the shocked expressions to laugh out loud with the idea of you calling your failed date a stupid right to his face.

“And what’s with the jacket?” Yunjin questioned when you stopped to grab your things from your locker.

She knew every clothing piece you had as if it was hers because of your constant need for help in terms of putting together what you like, and even though the jacket looked good on you, definitely wasn't part of your wardrobe.

“It’s Jake’s, I’m planning to send it back to him today.”

They already knew about Jake, but not too much. You shared a little through texts not wanting to fill too much of their expectations. Knowing your two best friends, they would go crazy if you detailed your night out.

They both exchanged glances before Chaewon spoke “If he really exists.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, picking up all you needed from your locker before answering. “He does. And he’s… pretty nice.” You tried your best not to sound too whipped at that time, especially because you were still worrying if he would be loyal to his words or if the whole talk about meeting you again was just a big bluff.

But apparently one thing about Jake it’s that he can counter you with ease. As if you summoned his presence, the honeyed voice that you didn’t realize until now you missed hearing, said from behind you.

“Hey, pretty one.” your head snapped to the direction faster than you would like to admit, meeting the beautiful plump lips turned into a little smile. He looked you up and down, checking on you. “I don’t think I’ll need the jacket back. You look better on it anyway.” His eyes were locked at you, and only you. You had to remind yourself to breathe, because, God Jake was so hot.

That day he opted to wear just a normal white shirt with dark jeans and black shoes. At first he thought about really getting his jacket back, because you didn’t know that but that jacket was his favorite. But as soon as he put his eyes on you and noticed how cute you looked with his clothing piece seeming too big like an oversized one, he gave up.

“H-hi,” you damned yourself for stuttering, being fully aware that your friends looked as astonished as you at that moment, but for different reasons. You started to get the jacket off your body by saying “Of course I have to give it bac–”, he shushed you with his index finger before you could finish and your eyes widened, making you stop all your movements.

“Don’t worry, I meant it when I say you look good on it,” you gulped as you nodded speechless. “Here,” he handed you a little paper and your shaky hands took it, you saw numbers written. “It’s my number, you can text me whenever, yeah?” He licked his lips suddenly feeling nervous.

Apparently being around you was an easy break of his flirtatious self. However, he forced himself on this one and said “I gotta go now, I’m kinda late,” he ruffled your hair gently before leaning close to whispering on your left ear, lips lightly touching your skin “See you around, sugar.”

You immediately choked on your own saliva, your cheeks burning like hell, fully unable to say a word. “And bye to you both as well!” Jake referred to the girls as he started to run down the corridor to his own campus building.

“Bye!” both Yunjin and Chaewon said in unison. You had to blink twice before realizing what just happened. “Girl!!!” Yunjin screamed and you noticed Chaewon covering her mouth as well. “What the fuck?!?!”

“I–” you tried saying anything but you couldn’t, not only because of your own brain turning into mush, but because your friends were way too hyped and interrupted you.

“The way he looked at you?”

“THE PET NAMES!!!”

“‘Pretty one’!? He so down bad, what the actual fuck?”

“And he’s cute as hell!!!”

You were overwhelmed with all of that, walking just because the two girls were forcing you to move forward while keeping squealing about Jake's actions.

“I know that nose can do wonders,” Yunjin said cheekily as soon as you sat in your class seats and you immediately turned to look at her with a terrified expression.

“Huh Yunjin!!!”, you smacked her shoulder with wide eyes and she just laughed together with Chaewon.

As your ordinary Monday normally would go, you were now sitting under a tree reading the latest book your teacher assigned for an assignment. You always loved to take a break from the library and to literally touch some grass, using your free time to catch up with all the paperwork you needed.

A shadow approached you, blocking the sunlight and catching your attention. You didn’t expect to see Jake hovering over you. With a raised eyebrow, you asked. “Are you following me?”

“No, I just missed you.” He ironized, taking a seat near you and looking at your book. “You’re such a nerd,” he mimicked your position, so his head was also resting on the tree behind you two but he was facing you. Too close.

You nervously gulped before saying, “Yeah, cuz I’m the one who likes to show myself off to a girl talking about Theory of relativity and other physical terms”, you sounded too sarcastic and instantly felt bad. “I’m not complaining, by the way,” you whispered looking away, part of you hoping for him not to hear but due to the proximity he obviously heard. And smiled.

Jake was afraid you could hear his heartbeats at that moment. Your side profile enchanted him in ways he could not describe. Your shy little smile got him thinking if it would be too weird to take a picture to have it with him forever.

He looked away, enjoying the silence.

“It’s very calm over here,” he said in a deep low voice, resting his chin on his knee. You took advantage of him not facing you anymore and watched him as he watched other people wander around, almost forgetting to say something back.

“Yeah, I like it here because it’s always calm like this,” he looked back at you when you talked. You forced yourself to keep eye contact for as long as you could, trying your best to ignore your burning cheeks.

Jake looked away. You noticed he was flustered too.

“And what about you, Jakey?” The little nickname spilling out your mouth like sugar, he almost melted. “Isn’t your campus like a few blocks from here?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, but I’ve got like an hour to spare before my next class.” You hummed. “So I decided to come over and thought I could maybe bump into you again,” he slyly smiled at you. You laughed at the term he used.

“But I can go away if you want me to, sweetheart.”

You instantly shook off your head and almost grabbed his arm as if trying to stop him from getting up. “You can stay.”

“Okay.”

And he did.

There was a brief silence moment before you plucked up the courage to ask. “What’s with the pet names?”

“You don’t like them?”

The worried puppy eyes he gave you almost broke your heart. “It’s not that… It’s just, y'know…”, you shrugged, trying to find the right way to put it. “Do you use them with everyone?”

You needed to know. You noticed Jake shuffling on his seat a bit, as if he was uncomfortable. And well, he wasn't fully comfortable either. There was no good explanation to why he called you all of that, and no, he didn’t use pet names with no other people but you. He dated two other girls before and of course called them cute pet names while being with them, but now you were the only one on his mind since the first encounter and he could not help it.

Jake was a believer of “love at first sight”, however he understood the necessity of getting to know the other person if he wanted to build something with them and never really got carried away with the primary delusional feeling.

With you he was kinda different. He let his flirtatious side shine way more easily than he would normally do. When he noticed how cute the girl who bumped on his chest that day was, he just let it all out. Little did you know that his first instinct of flirting with you was due to his nervousness.

Now he would be down to a one night stand type of thing if you wanted to, but didn’t sound right to do so. You looked too precious to him. He wanted to be close to you and get to know every single piece of you before anything. He wanted to know your likings, interests and overall personality.

He could let himself fall in love with you.

Immersed in his own thoughts, he didn’t even realize he had become quiet and left you hanging kinda in a compromised position.

“You know what? Forget it,” you shook it off, feeling embarrassed. It wasn't like he owes you any explanation about his life or what he does with it. If he decided to play with your feelings, then you should know your position of not falling for it. “Tell me something very nerdy about your area,” you asked brightly. “I’ve got a few minutes still.”

You noticed how bold you became around Jake. Apparently that's how it worked between you two.

He would be the one starting the whole thing, making you get too flustered for your own good with the cute names and shameless flirting, until he breaks out the character for a few seconds, enough for you to be the audacious one and make him blush.

At some point you started to get used to Jake’s presence in your everyday life. Both of you would constantly reach for the other during free time just to hang out, and sometimes to grab some food together. Yet you never let him get too close, fearing that you would let yourself get too attached to the feeling. You made it a rule not to fall for him and you’ve been holding on so far, even with Jake making it way too difficult.

Jake was sweet, caring and not afraid to express his feelings when he needed to. Not only that but he also would remember little details about you, like your favorite coffee order or the fact that you can only listen to the first half of a song because you think the rest sucks – Jake always skips it when playing on his car radio.

He got along with your friends easily as he’s a well spoken person as well, and even introduced you to his own friends. You met Heeseung and Sunghoon, the last one being a classmate of Jake while Heeseung studied music, both older than you. You found out that Heeseung was the said friend who made Jake wander around your campus causing the whole bumping-into-each-other situation and it became an inside joke among all of you.

Jake made it normal to ask you out from time to time within the excuse that both of you were overwhelmed with the university duties and deserved to see the outside world.

So after today’s classes you walked down the parking lot after receiving a text from him saying he would take you to a place – he refused to tell you where you were going.

He was already waiting for you, being too attractive as he leaned against his car while looking at something on his phone. Your heart started to pump fast in your chest, making you take a few deep breaths beforehand.

“Hey,” you greeted when you got closer and he glanced over at you, immediately opening a big smile and embracing you in a hug.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you took your sweet time to feel the warmth of his body and perfume. “Ready to go?”

You moved back from the hug and watched as he opened the door car for you.

“Mhm, but you got me extra curious, so I’m having high expectations,” you tried to exaggerate in your words in order to get a little hint, but of course Jake was already getting immune to your tricks at this point so he just laughed.

“I’m sure you’ll like it, sweetheart.”

You settled yourself in his car, feeling way too comfortable with the amount of time you already spended there with him as you threw your bag on the backseats and chose the song for the trip.

Jake dared you to show him your favorite songs every time you two drove together, but you wanted to get to know his music taste as well so you two decided to alternate who chose the songs for that day. And it was your turn.

“Paramore for today, huh?” He pointed out with a small smile.

“Yeah, you don’t like it?”

“I love it.”

One of the reasons your heart beat fast when around Jake was the freedom to be yourself and just do whatever you wanted to do, without even noticing you caused the same to him with your charming behavior. Every time he stopped at a red light he would look at you bobbing your head and lip syncing to the lyrics excitedly while doing a little dance.

He tried his best to not show how dearing he was looking at you, but you caught the cute brown eyes facing your side from time to time and the only reaction from both of you was to look away and blush.

As the conversation flowed, he shared a bit of his day to you, telling about how stressed he has been because of his study partner being a pain in his ass, and the only hint of where you were going he let out was “And because of that, I need to de-stress and that’s why we goin’ where we goin’”.

You pouted and forced the best puppy eye you could while looking at his direction. He almost broke out. “You’re mean. You don’t make a girl curious like that.”

“Don’t worry, we are almost there.”

You gave up trying to figure out where you were going and hoped for the best. You knew that with Jake nothing could be bad, because his presence alone was enough.

Jake felt similar to you, not admitting out loud that just the fact that you were with him already reduced a lot of his stress. You may not know that but everyday he was eagerly waiting for the moment you both would meet during the day, and when you couldn't find time to do so, he was thrilled to receive a simple text from you.

Your presence was enough to make him happy.

It didn't take longer than a few songs for you to arrive at the place you instantly recognized as a beach.

“A beach?” You sounded excited, but also a bit confused. You don’t think you have clothes to enter the water and the sun was already starting to set, so you didn’t get much of his idea at first.

Jake parked the car and as usual, he opened the door for you. “Yep. I know it’s kinda late for a swim or anything like that, but it wasn’t planning to do anyways,” he helped you to get out.

Normally he would let your hand go as soon as you felt stable on your feet after leaving the car, but that day he decided to hold your hand as he gently pulled you in the direction he wanted to take you.

You said nothing. How could you? The slender fingers holding yours had broken you down. The air felt thick in your airways as you walked alongside him, heart beating louder and louder while you watched the beautiful view of the sun finding its way down the horizon. The cold breeze hit your face and brought so much peace to your inner self. You could live forever like that.

Jake suddenly stopped walking and since you were a bit behind him, you bumped slightly at his back, hands still together. You looked over his shoulder and gasped. The place you two were now had a better view of the sunsetting and the waves calmly hitting the rocks sounded way too heavenly.

You blinked slowly, reluctantly letting Jake hand go as you walked a bit forward. Behind you, he watched as your hair flew due the breeze.

"It's so pretty..." you uttered under your breath, mesmerized by the look of the orange and pinkish colored sky. You felt like crying.

He took a few steps and glanced at your serene expression.

While you enjoyed the view, Jake enjoyed you.

"Yeah, very pretty."

You had no clue of how fast Jake’s heart was beating right now. He was hypnotized by you, a sudden urge to kiss you building up his mind right away.

“I now understand why you come here to de-stress”, you said after a while, the sound of your sweet voice bringing him back to reality. He had literally lost himself on you at that very moment.

You lazily smiled, feeling extra calm and glanced at Jake, who was already looking at you with soft eyes.

“Thank you, Jakey,” you hugged him sincerely. “For bringing me here and for being here with me. I needed that.”

Jake sighed, hugging you tightly. At this point there was no way he could hide the thump-thump in his chest, and honestly? He stopped caring if you noticed or not.

He stopped caring if you noticed he was – not so slowly – falling for you.

It was a stressful week for you, not only were you on your period but also dealing with a bunch of deadlines. You considered throwing yourself in front of a bus when you realized how left behind you were in your assignments. Your finals getting closer and closer didn’t help either.

For good and long days you almost locked yourself at the library in order to catch up with everything, because even with the help of some friends that shared the classes with you you were barely holding on.

Jake would appear out of nowhere and give you a cup of warm coffee, some muffins and a little kiss on your forehead before heading out and letting you do your thing.

“I just wanna make sure you’re eating well, princess,” he would say every time. And no matter how lovingly his actions would be, you couldn't allow yourself to feel them because of your anxiety of failure.

And yes, ever since you asked about the nicknames and stuff he started to use them more often than your heart could handle, especially after he discovered that you liked them, even if you didn't admit it out loud.

Friday arrived. You wished you could get excited about going out to the little party Jake said Heeseung would be throwing that evening, but you needed a good night of sleep and your whole body was aching due to your period. You just wanted to sink on your bed sheets after taking a hot shower.

One thing that became normal in your life was getting a ride with Jake some days of the week, unfortunately he didn’t have any classes on fridays so you just had to walk your way home. You took your sweet time to feel the cold autumn breeze hit you on the face hoping it would take away all your stress. The buzzling sound of your phone caught your attention as you saw Jake’s text on its display.

Jakey 🐶: Hey there princess It’s been three days since I last saw you and I’m ngl, I kinda miss your pretty face lol I hope you’re doing well I left you a little smth at your apartment. At the door, ofc Don’t freak out, I didn’t stole your keys or broke into your house or smth Please, don’t stress yourself too much <3 And dw, I’m not mad you’re not going to the party Have a good rest, pretty girl. AND PLEASE don’t forget to eat!!!!

You almost cried reading all of that and blamed your hormones for being a mess of feelings.

You: Hi Jakey!! Kinda miss you too you left something to me? i’m kinda scared I’m dealing with cramps rn so I’m not so fine, but I’ll eventually, dw! And yeah, I’ll make sure to eat and rest well enjoy your night, pretty boy <3

You noticed you felt much braver through texts than in person, but this was the first time you were the one using a nickname so you were shaking a bit.

Jakey 🐶: AJDKSSJDJS SORRy I Yeah, uhm No need to be scared, princess, I’m sure you’ll like it Cramps? Take on some medicine, please!! Do u want me to come over? Are u home yet?

He sounded so desperate and nervous that genuinely made you laugh out loud. But with a simple text back saying “no, you go enjoy your night out and I’ll enjoy my bed” you finished the conversation as you finally arrived home.

Near your apartment’s doormat, there was a pretty bouquet of daisies alongside a little box of chocolates. You noticed a little hand note inside the bouquet.

“I remember you saying you like these flowers and everyday I pass by a flower shop and always think about buying it for you, so today I finally did. There’s chocolate too. Hope you like it.

Have a good rest, princess.

Jake”

You took a deep breath in order to hold back the tears trying to escape. Not falling for Jake was a difficult rule to follow, and you didn’t know if you wanted to keep doing it anymore.

“So what you're telling me is that Jake left his house on a fucking Sunday morning and brought you ice cream because you... were feeling too lazy to go buy it yourself?”

“When you put it like that…”

Chaewon, Yunjin and you were sitting at one of the furthest tables in the cafeteria that you usually went to when the three of you wanted to gossip or just meet to catch things up. It was a late afternoon on a Tuesday and you barely had time to see them in the last few days, mainly because you had missed a few classes to finish reading other teachers' required books.

“The real question is: why aren’t both of you dating already?”

Yunjin was flabbergasted by what you were describing about Jake. There’s no way that guy wasn’t in love with you at this point. She didn't understand what was taking you so long to ask him out already, especially because she noticed that Jake was kinda holding himself back.

“Yeah! He follows you like a little puppy and looks at you like you are a goddess or something!” Chaewon added. “I mean, you are a goddess, but to get someone to look at you like that?!”

“Girl, you gotta bag him ASAP!” Yunjin playfully pushed your shoulder, but you weren't feeling that happy about all of it.

You sighed. “But what if I’m just a fun little game to him?”

“What?!” It was funny the way both of them said in unison, but instead of laughing you just continued with a sad voice tone.

“Y’know, he’s been flirting with me since the very beginning. I don’t know. Part of me believes his words and actions, they seem genuine. But the other part is way too afraid of trusting too much,” a single tear ran down your cheek as you frowned. “I don’t want to be hurt again.” You whispered as you looked down.

“Baby,” Yunjin, who was sitting next to you, hugged you sideways and planted a sweet little kiss on top of your head. “We know you’ve been through a lot of shit because of your stupid ex, but I don’t think Jake’s like that.”

Chaewon, who was in front of you, took your hand in hers as she spoke. “Yeah, and you know, If he tries something or if he dares to break your heart, you’ll always have me to make his life a living hell.”

You smiled through the tears running down all over your face. With a reassuring look, Yunjin asked.

“Give it a try, yeah?”

Jake knew what he was getting himself into. He would be fine if you put him in the friendship side, but the thought of having you to himself pleased him way too much. The idea of other guys touching you the ways he wanted to, knowing that none of them would treat you right, consumed his mind as much as the vision of your pretty smile.

The urge of getting physically closer to you was itching him incessantly.

Ever since he discovered that he was in fact falling in love with you, he became unable to get you out of his head. It was like a kind of mantra that chanted your name every time he saw something that reminded him of you, and almost everything reminded him of you.

He didn't had the courage to ask you out on a proper date so far, because even though the both of you had developed an incredibly nice friendship, he was too afraid that he was seeing beyond reality because of his delusional self, and more than that he was scared as hell of losing you.

You probably only thought of him as a friend who you could playfully flirt with, he would say to himself. At the same time, the way he sometimes caught you looking at him seemed much more loving than it should.

There seemed to be more love than friendship in that relationship of yours.

He was also having to deal with the hard job of avoiding kissing you. Recently he found himself getting lost on your lips too often. A dangerous play. Still he kept you as close as he could, hugging you or having at least one of his arms around your shoulder or waist in order to fulfill a bit of his neediness.

Thinking about you and only you, he sighed, finishing his business at his locker, finally reaching the book he was looking for and placing it in his backpack.

"Ok, quick question", Jake almost screamed at your sudden appearance when he closed the metal door, widening his eyes and dramatically putting a hand on his chest. You laughed.

"Firstly, what are you doing here?” He said after catching his breath. “Secondly, why do you like to scare me so much?", he kinda whined and you laughed.

"I just wanted to know if your name is really Jake or if it's a nickname", you smiled innocently. Jake on the other side of the hand didn't buy your "pure" expression, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Why would you run all the way through here just to ask about my full name, which I’m pretty sure you already know?" He wasn't buying any of that.

"Because I wanna manifest you in my life," you answered like it was obvious and you both began to walk side by side. You were going to be very late to your class but your professor has to understand that sometimes you have more important things to do other than attend classes.

"I thought I was already in your life...?" Jake was trully confused.

"Yeah, but I kinda wanna you in my life more than just what you are right now.”

"What are you talking about, Y/N?" Saying your name was an indicator that either he was serious or very confused, either way you didn't care much so you just carried on with your talking.

“Go on a date with me.” He stopped walking and so did you. Jake looked at you, blinking without saying a word. "On a date, you know,” you motioned with your hands, losing a bit of the courage you had to build up to do all of that. “We go to someplace, grab some food, wait for the night to fall down and boom, stargazing while we talk about our amazing theories of life or whatever.”

Jake gulped, scratching the back of his neck nervously. Normally he would be the one programming the whole thing and just saying you are both heading to somewhere, but to have you asking like that… If he understood it right, you were asking him to go on a real date.

"Sounds like something we already do." He let out a breathy and nervous laugh, still trying to thoroughly understand what you were saying, looking if there was some kind of joke hidden behind your eyes.

You looked extra attractive today, as if you dressed yourself up just for this moment. Just for him. He noticed you were wearing his jacket as well.

"It pretty much is, but at the end of this one I want to be able to kiss you,” you said in one go. “On the lips, if it's not clear."

Jake now was more speechless and completely baffled than ever. He was sure he was dreaming. It became normal routine for him to dream of you lately so of course this was all a trick of his own mind trying to compensate for his neediness of you.

He was so fucking dreaming.

With the lack of response, you thought you fucked up.

“I-I’m sorry, I–”, you started as you felt your confidence running away from you immediately. “Just forget about what I just said, I should not have said anything to begin with. I’m so sorry, ok?” You noticed your hands trembling. Due to your nervousness, everything you had on the back of your mind just went out. “I don't know what I was thinking when I decided to come here and try to take our relationship to a next level or something. But it's been so hard to be around you without wanting you even closer,” you whined. “And I finally got the courage to ask you out on a proper date, but you clearly don't see us like that so forget about it. I’m sor–”

No one. Not a single soul could prepare you to be silenced by Jake’s lips on yours. His hand automatically grabbed your waist as yours went to rest on his chest.

Kissing in the middle of the university hallway wasn’t the ideal way of tasting each other's for the first time so Jake decided to not take too long on holding the contact, breaking it to say “I’m sorry, I needed you to shut up.” His lips brushed on yours as he spoke. You blinked twice and breathed heavily, feeling the touch of his warm hand on your skin as he cupped one of your cheeks. You looked for his brown honeyed orbs, catching them exchanging glances between your lips and your eyes.

“We can go out on a date,” he brushed his thumb softly on your bottom lip. “The one where we go to some place, grab some food, do whatever you want and I can properly kiss you.”

Jake was fighting demons not to kiss you again. He was absolutely certain he would go crazy, just a little taste of you and he already felt like he was starving, his body totally dependent and reactive because of you.

“Okay,” your voice was barely a whisper and you had to use all your strength to stop yourself from leaning in to feel his touch again. Instead, you reluctantly pulled away, immediately missing all of his touches; you felt your skin tingle in every place he had touched you. Still his hand rested on your waist, unable to let you go. “I gotta go,” you noticed how his eyes wandered all over your face, like he was taking a picture with it in order to save it from the rest of the day.

You smiled, hesitantly sliding your hands away from his chest.

“Alright, sweetheart,” before you could let him go, he grabbed one of your hands and planted a gentle kiss at the back of it. “I’ll text you later then?”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

You had to hold a scream when you heard your doorbell ringing. Chaewon and Yunjin who were in a shared video call squealed for you.

They looked more excited than yourself and you really appreciated the effort they took to help you out even with their busy schedule for the day, deciding to call you not only because they knew you would be nervous as fuck but also because Yunjin was willing to help you with your outfit choice.

You ended up wearing something cute, but cozy and warm: a matching pair of a top and long loose skirt, patterned with a black background and some stars and moons, a black boot and as a final touch: Jake’s big jacket. You also did a little hairstyle with two small braids at the front and the rest of your hair loose.

Yunjin noticed how confident you were in choosing the clothing and even doing your hair, showing that you didn’t need much of her help – which normally she would dramatically react to, but today she just felt proud and happy for you.

Jake made you comfortable enough to be yourself whenever you were with him.

And you were going on a date with him.

A fucking proper date.

You said a quick ‘goodbye’ to your girls who replied with a very high pitched ‘good luck!’ and then hung up, walking towards the door and needing to take a few deep breaths before opening it.

As you did, you greeted a very smiley – and hot – Jake.

He was glowing.

Not only was his face glowing but he seemed overall confident. He was wearing a reddish flannel jacket that covered an oversized black shirt together with his everyday silver necklace, jeans and black boots. A perfect combo, especially to you who loved to see a man in red – you once told him about this preference of yours and was questioning if he did it on purpose.

The silky brown strands fell perfectly in place again when Jake ran his hand through it and licked his lips after shamelessly checking you out.

“Hi b– Oh my god, you look stunning.”

Early the day through your texts you decided to go simple but special on the planning due lack of time. The whole idea was kinda in a hurry, but after getting to taste a little of how it is to kiss Jake, you needed the action of kissing him to become an everyday routine as soon as possible, so the initial plan – the date will be happening on a chill day for both of you, mostly likely Friday – was replaced by a very eagerly “Ok, I’m taking you to a place” said by you.

“And you look hot,” the wording flew out your mouth faster than you expected and instantly your eyes went wide.

Jake smirked as he leaned into the door frame. “Appreciate it, baby.”

Baby.

You were so fucked up. There’s no way your heart could handle this the whole night.

Jake noticed the way you just blinked at him without saying a word and he just knew you were absorbing the whole situation before becoming confident over him. It was the way you worked and he loved that.

So he decided to take his sweet time and take a bit of advantage over your flustered self as he walked closer to you. “I brought what you asked,” he sounded a bit too sexy saying such simple words and little did you know that he deepened his voice a bit just for fun.

Due to the closeness, Jake scented your perfume and swore he was getting drunk, too intoxicated by your sweet smell.

You looked at the bag he lifted and nodded, fully in a trance. You forced yourself to snap out of it as you reminded yourself you have a fucking date and finally spoke “Oh, right. I’ll go pick up what I’ve prepared for us!” You walked towards the kitchen. “Do you want anything? Water maybe?”

“Just you.”

You choked on your own saliva as your cheeks started to burn. You foolishly thought that at least Jake wasn’t aware of your reaction, but as soon as you got back from the kitchen after picking up the picnic basket with the sandwiches you made, you realized he was very much aware and messing with you with the flirting as usual. You could see in his eyes a strange mix of false innocence and mischievousness. And of course, in that little game of yours you would always win.

“Well, you already have me,” you winked at him as you pulled yourself together and now was time for Jake to lose his composure, blushing. “Let's go?”

“Y-yeah.”

You gave him an address and he drove you both to the place, fully trusting you. You wanted to surprise Jake since he was usually the one who surprised you, but you hadn't gotten your driver's license yet so you needed him to do the driving in order to achieve your goal. That's why you decided to give him an address a little further away from your final destination, so both of you could walk there without him suspecting anything.

Jake was feeling like a happy puppy, very excited about what was going to happen tonight.

He was curious about your plans, especially after you asked for a picnic blanket and some beverages – “a night picnic?” he asked as you two texted. He remembers you just replying with “lol don’t fool yourself”.

He didn’t know what to expect about the place really, and not only that, he couldn’t stand the urge to kiss you properly. God, he was so in need of you it hurted. Having you next to him, your scent all over him, your sweet and lively presence, and not being able to touch you was driving him insane.

“I don’t wanna you to get high on expectations, Jakey,” you said softly after a while with a concerned voice. Jake had stopped at a red light and the silence wasn’t awkward, but it was undeniable that you were worried about the outcome of that night.

What if Jake doesn’t like what you’ve prepared? What if he thinks you’re too dumb and leaves you? What if he doesn’t really wanna be with you?

“I’ll like whatever you’ve planned, sweetheart,” just like Jake was reading how anxious was your mind, he uttered. “You are my company for tonight. That’s all I need,” he reassured you, holding your hand and resting it on your thigh.

You glanced over at him to see his lips turned into such a gorgeous smile you almost cried. Jake was perfect.

“Okay,” you brought his hand to your lips and planted a small kiss. You tried to let it go after, but he refused.

Jake drove the rest of the way holding you, only letting it go when needed, but catching it again as soon as he could.

The warmth and softness of his touch took all the worry out of your head in a minute, and just like you arrived. Jake parked where you told him to do so and opened the car door and helped you to get out as usual. This time though he intertwined your fingers as he let you guide him through the way.

“Don’t we need to bring the things?”

“Nah, we have something to do before,” you tried to sound enigmatic, forcing an expression which made Jake laugh, totally endeared by you.

“Ooh, so mysterious.”

You both walked for a bit rambling about the surroundings. It was kinda in the middle of nowhere, with nothing much around and plenty of open space. Jake noticed there was a big building and before he could say a thing, you began to explain.

“So I know we both like astronomical stuff, right?” He nodded, looking at you. So pretty. “May I say you especially in a very nerdy way,” you softly pushed his shoulder with yours and he playfully rolled his shining eyes while failing to hold back a smile, full of adoration for you. “I thought about this when I realized I wanted to be more than just friends with you,” you stopped walking to completely face him, holding both of his hands. “Behind you at this exact moment there’s a stellar observatory,” you stopped him from turning around wanting to finish your speech first. “Apparently fate had worked through this, since today they don’t normally open to everyone. Only for reservations or something like that.”

You finally let Jake turn around and take a proper look at the place. You watched as his eyes began to shine even brighter, it looked like he was about to cry. You also noticed how his hand tightened around yours, as if he was nonverbally thanking you.

Jake was genuinely flabbergasted. How the fuck did he managed to find someone that amazing?

“I’m not gonna ask how you managed to get a reservation here,” he joked.

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?” He just laughed it off. “Well, I kinda didn’t,” you suddenly felt small, even tried to restrain your hand from his but he refused to let you go.

You ran away from his intense gazing, not wanting to see the disappointment on it as you kept talking “We’re not going into the observatory. We’re gonna use the telescopes they have open for use down here,” you explained. “Since today it’s a reservation only or whatever day, we get to use it freely. It’s definitely not the same thing, but I’m sure it can be cool.” you forced a smile still afraid to look at Jake’s direction. “I tried to book it for us I swear I did, but it was too expensive,” you uttered apologetically and again you were rambling due to your nervousness.

Jake not saying a thing helped nothing either. Little did you know he was as speechless as amazed with your witty self for figuring out a way of making that night special in such a short amount of time. He knew how hard it is to come up with ideas like that and to make it work. And you did it. Flawlessly.

He was so falling in love with you.

“...I’m so sorry if I raised your expectations too high. I wanted to do something nice since you’re always doing nice things to me, you deserve bett–”

Jake once more interrupted your nonsense speech by pressing his lips on yours and you instantly melted in his arms, your hands moving up to find comfort on his shoulders as his own went down your back until they rested on your waist, squeezing lightly.

You moved your head to the side wishing to deepen the kiss, the whole fantasy of waiting for the special moment to finally kiss him was already blown apart as both of your bodies searched for the other’s.

Your heart was beating fast and all your senses were heightened and sensitive, as if Jake had awakened a new sensation in you. A genuine sense of desperation for closeness. You needed more. Like reading your mind, Jake’s tongue touched your bottom lip at the same time your fingers scratched the back of his head, getting lost through his soft strands as you pulled him closer.

Jake touched you with care, he was kissing you so tenderly yet you could still feel his hunger for you. You weren’t different either. One of his hands came up to hold your face to help with the movement of your heads. You quickly found a pace, like two puzzle pieces being a perfect fit.

Neither of you wanted to part away, feeling too addicted to the contact. So whenever one broke down to breathe the other would reach over and start again, until your lips were a little bit sore. You pulled away unwilling, leaving little pecks on his plump lips as he did the same on yours.

Jake was unable to hold back his smile and didn’t even tried to, too happy about finally kissing you. “We have a little problem, baby,” he whispered as his dazzling eyes wandered all over your features. You looked even more stunning under the moonlight. “What?” You quietly asked back. “I don’t think I can or want to stop kissing you.”

You giggled, feeling shy under his intense but gentle gaze. He was adoring you and you could feel every piece of it.

“You don’t have to stop.”

And just like that you kissed again. And again. And again.

You felt like a drug to Jake, so addictive, so intense, so you. He had the impression that all his problems would be solved instantly if you just kissed him. He decided that from now on at the end of a stressful day, he would search for your touch and your touch only.

“But I kinda want you to stop for a bit, so we can go see the stars,” Jake chuckled when you broke the kiss to say.

“You love stars, don’t you, pretty girl?” He gave you a final cute little smooch while hugging you tightly.

“Yeah.”

And even though you had observed dozens of stars that night, none of them shone brighter than your eyes together.

You were dating.

Actually there was no big difference from what you and Jake acted before, other than the fact that everyday that he went to pick you up to the university, you got to kiss him, which made you two develop the routine of waking a bit early just to get enough moments together.

Also you started to feel comfortable to call him cute names, your favorite being pretty boy, very effectively when you wanted to fluster Jake and see him giggling.

The dynamic was similar, but way better.

When you told your friends about the night, they literally screamed. Of course you kept as a secret how romantic it was to lay down under the moon and starlight with Jake as you cuddled and shared kisses. But everything about Jake sounded dreamy.

He was so cute and you were not so slowly falling in love. He would leave you at your classes everyday and kiss you good luck. Due to his recent research project his time was getting tighter, nevertheless he would squeeze his whole schedule just to see you for a minute or two. And of course, to steal a kiss from you.

Most of your lunch time was with him, either when you had time to grab some food and eat in peace or when some of you two were in a hurry. On days like that, you normally would find him in the library, leaving him some snacks, water and a sweet kiss. He would do something similar to you.

Gradually your relationship was growing stronger, however you still hadn’t done anything on the bed yet other than kiss and sleep together. You weren’t complaining! You loved to kiss Jake and to feel his warm body embracing yours.

He was very respectful towards you and you really appreciated that. He would initiate the kisses sessions most of the time, but rarely deepen it waiting for you to do it. His hands would never go further down your hips, even when you tried to force him to do it by putting it on your ass he relocated them back up.

But you were a woman after all. A woman with desires and needs. Strong desires and needs.

Even though you had a long-term relationship, it was only after the breakup that you discovered that your ex didn't give you any pleasure – or gave you anything at all. Your previous relationship was a mess, to be honest. Talking to people and listening to their experiences made you realize how shitty you were being treated back then – in every aspect!

You knew how to please yourself and most of the time was enough. However, it’s been a while since you last had sex and you could live without it normally, but there was Jake, all over you.

His smell, his pretty face, his touches, his lips, his fucking nose and his slender fingers… The way his veiny hands would hold the steering wheel drove you insane. You needed him.

It was a cold Saturday and you were watching him play your video game. Yeah, apparently Jake liked your video game more than you – this was you being dramatic every single time he stopped to pay all of his attention to you and decided to play something, but as soon as he starts to celebrate for defeating a boss, you just smile and forget about the drama.

Today was a bit different though. Normally you would pay attention to either the screen or to his pretty face and reactions, loving how expressive he was, always thinking Jake was a sculpture or something. But on this very specific day you paid more attention to his hand movements.

The way his grip was strong on the controller and how his fingers moved on it was making you mad. He was biting his lip more than usual as well in order to concentrate and, God, you could feel your panties get wet just by watching him like that.

Part of you felt like a perverted.

At some point he groaned. Apparently something bad happened to him on the game, but you didn’t gave a fuck. The sound he left woken a strong feeling inside you.

“Why is this so difficult?” Jake asked frustrated, throwing the controller away on the couch in defeat and looking at you.

He wasn't expecting to meet your intense gaze on him, eyes darkened as your tongue traveled through your lips to wet it.

His confused puppy eyes and parted lips were your last straw.

You straddled over his lap, hungrily kissing him. You almost instantly sucked his bottom lip, looking for a more intense contact. You could feel he was a bit confused, hesitantly resting his big hands on your hips, not knowing what to do.

When you bite his lip you heard a whimper and that alone made you grunt against Jake’s mouth in response, pulling him even closer. You pulled a few strands of his hair and again he let out a sound for you, feeling him getting hard beneath your body.

Before you could continue doing your job, he said in an urge, his breath heavy. “I gotta go.”

You shook off your head whispering “No,” and pulled him again to keep making out with him, lewd kissing sounds filling the room, a total mess happening in your living room.

The feeling of his hardened bulge hitting directly on your covered wet cunt was making you rub yourself against it, hoping to get more friction. At this exact moment Jake forced you to move away from him, gripping your hips to stop your movements.

“I really gotta go, I have some uni stuff to do,” he was breathless. You noticed how his eyes were different from ever, face red and skin hot. You blinked a few times as you just watched him put you back on the couch and stand up, trying to cover his obvious boner with his oversized jacket. He gave you a little kiss on the cheek and said goodbye to you before rushing out of your apartment.

You had to satisfy yourself alone that night. And after that, you cried.

You started to question yourself.

Yeah, Jake looked at you like you were the only one in his life. But was it enough? Does he find you attractive? Or better: does he find you desirable? Sexy? Hot? Sensual?

Since that day Jake started to run away from your more passionate touches like he was running from death.

At first you thought he could be a virgin, and no problem with that. You would let him feel comfortable enough with you to try to do something more, however you knew he had other relationships and weren’t inexperienced either.

Actually you even went to Sunghoon and Heeseung to ask them about it, to which they answered that Jake may be “boyfriend material” and only have intimate moments with people he somehow trusts, but he definitely wasn't inexperienced in that field.

So doubting yourself was your only option. You could also ask directly why he never did more than just kisses with you, but that option needed more courage from you than you had.

“What’s with the frown, baby?” Yunjin asked you one day as you both decided to lunch together. You were giving excuses to Jake during the whole day in order not to talk to him, saying you were too busy and that maybe today you wouldn’t be able to meet him.

You sighed, playing with the food on your plate. “I don’t think Jake likes me.”

“What? There’s no way. He almost licks the floor you walk on. What did he do?” She was ready to throw hands.

“The real problem it’s the opposite. He don’t do it.”

“Do what, baby?”

“We’ve been dating for weeks and we haven't had sex yet. I’m almost crawling on my bedroom walls.”

“Wow,” Yunjin was shocked, eyes widened. For the way you two acted together, she thought that every single room of your house was blessed already. “Well, have you asked him why? Because that’s pretty much a ‘he’ problem as it seems.”

“I’m afraid,” you stated sincerely.

“Of what, baby?”

“Of him saying something I don’t wanna hear. I don’t wanna lose him, Jinnie,” you uttered with sorrow.

“Y/N, my pretty baby, remember we are talking about Jake. The man who woke up in the middle of the night and went to your house to kill a cockroach because you called him. The man who has a photo of you in his wallet. The man who had literally skipped classes just to spend some time with you because apparently he can’t live without you,” you started sobbing. “He likes you very much, Y/N. And he has shown to be someone who listens to you with adoration. Anything you say or ask him he would do his best to listen and talk about it, you yourself said that to me once when we were ranking green flags, remember?” You nodded.

It was the truth. He was Jake. The man who demonstrates so much affection in every action.

“I’ll talk to him. Thank you, Jinnie.”

“You don’t need to thank me, sweetie.” She kissed the top of your head. “You know I’m always here for you and just want you to be happy. You deserve it.”

You decided to talk to Jake on the next day. You weren't planning to “arrange a sex meeting with him” or anything similar, but to talk about it. So you invited him over that day, knowing he would be completely free because it was a Friday. You did a test early that day and were free as well.

Since he was going to your apartment quite often you gave him a key to make things easier for both of you, so when you heard the front door opening as you drank some water your heart started to beat fast in advance.

His scent followed all the way through your house directly to you. You felt his arms hugging you from behind and for a few seconds you let yourself get lost in his warmth. “Hey, gorgeous. How are you?” He whispered close to your ear, kissing your neck. You turned around to face him. “You look sad. What happened? Are you ok?” He flooded you with questions as his eyes worriedly wandered over your face. You just pecked him quickly before taking his hand on yours and leading him to the couch.

Jake felt his heart sinking.

He maybe was going crazy, but he felt that you had purposely ignored him the day before, constantly finding a rather lame excuse for every solution he gave. He preferred to believe that you were not having a good day and respected your decision. But when you invited him over, it became undeniable how anxious he was feeling.

And the way you welcomed him at that moment made him even more worried, especially when you said the cursed phrase.

“I wanna talk to you about something.”

He swallowed, trying to keep it cool by saying gently “What is it, sugar?” as he reached for your hands to mildly squeeze it in reassurance.

Even though Jake was quite tense, he would always prioritize you and the fact that you had some difficulty verbalizing what normally was bothering you, so he knew it was consuming you just as much.

“I– Actually I don’t even know how to say it,” you started shyly with a low voice, avoiding Jake’s gaze. “But I’m…”

“Y’know you can say anything to me, right?” Jake tried to encourage you as he gently pulled you closer and just like that you moved to sit on his lap, each of your knees on either side of his legs as you trapped him underneath you.

Without saying a thing, you hugged him to hide your face on his neck. Jake wasn’t fully aware of what was happening, but he wanted to give you some comfort so his hands caressed your back slowly.

After a while you muffled his skin with your breath while asking “Do you think I’m unattractive?”

Oh?

Jake had a delayed reaction to your question. “Baby, what?”

You drew apart from him enough to see his confused expression before looking away. “I don’t know if you aren’t sexually attracted to me or what, but you can always tell me y’know. I’m sure we can figure something out,” your voice was almost a whisper due your worried self about confrontations.

“Baby, I’m so confused right now. What are you talking about?”

“I– I’d prefer you saying to my face you don’t wanna have sex with me instead of pulling me away from you every time we go further with our kisses,” as you finished saying, you felt your cheeks burning.

Jake frowned, completely baffled.

Little did you know that Jake lost track of how many times he woke up with a painful boner after dreaming of you. Or how fast he would run away from you after a makeout session with you because of his body response to it.

He would first try to cool down with a shower, but everytime he ended up jerking himself off to get some relief, you being the only one in his mind, always moaning your name when cumming.

But, God, every single time he felt nasty, disgusted with himself. You deserved better. You're like a divinity to him, a beautiful and sweet woman, you needed to be handled with care and love and he was so afraid of hurting you.

The day you told him about your ex and how badly he treated you, especially in the sexual field by not caring about anything but his own pleasure, Jake got mad. Really mad.

How could one in their right mind leave you hanging, when your expressions of pleasure alone were enough to drive any man crazy? He could treat you way better.

Sometimes Jake would get carried away while kissing you, going down to your neck to trail his lips over there biting and sucking slightly. And when he backed a bit to look at your face, he always met you with closed eyes nibbling your bottom lip, a ridiculously lustful view.

Too hard to handle.

He had to almost physically hold himself back every time. He was afraid of scaring you with how much he needed you, with how much he wanted to get lost between your legs, making you scream nothing but his name, with how much he was willing to make you feel good.

And now he got to know that his actions were the ones making you doubt yourself, making you doubt his feelings and needs for you… He was feeling so dumb.

“I– I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You froze. No nicknames, just your regular name.

“I never wanted to make you feel like this. I’m really sorry.”

You gulped the guilty feeling down your throat. “It’s okay, Jakey, I get it,” you smiled awkwardly, not knowing what to do next. That meant that Jake didn't want you in that way, right?

You were about to start rambling as usual and before you did so, Jake shut you up with his mouth on yours. You startled before reacting, moving your tongue with his and dipping your fingers into his silky strands, both of your bodies starting to get hotter.

Jake squeezed your ass while pulling you closer. “I want you, Y/N,” he was serious when you drew apart to catch your breath. “I want you so bad, my darling,” he was so desperate, your panties dampening just by how his voice sounded.

“Yeah?” You smirked, breathing heavy. “How bad, Jakey?” You noticed his eyes darkening. “Show me.”

Getting back to work with his mouth in yours, kissing you very messily, Jake impulsed to stand up with you in his arms. You surrounded your legs around him to keep yourself steady as he stumbled a little on the way to your room. You giggled against his lips when he dropped you softly on the mattress and hovered over you, not breaking the kiss for a second.

Jake’s mouth tasted so sweet and hot on yours, you couldn't help but scratch his back and neck with your fingernails thinking how good he would be doing all that job down your cunt. His dick was getting harder and you could feel it, your mouth watering at the thought of sucking him off. You wanted so bad.

He parted away from your lips just to trail his own plump ones to your neck and collarbone, kissing, sucking and nibbling all the area before finally whispering against your skin, sending chills throughout your body.

“I really wanna eat you out,” Jake sounded determined. “I wanna taste you before anything, sweetheart,” your only reaction was a sigh mixed with a “please” that you were unsure if he heard.

But Jake was catching all of your sounds, from the quietest little whimpers to the slightly more intense ones, like the one you released when he removed your shirt and bra to work on your tits, his mouth sucking your left one while his hand cupped the other before he switched to do the opposite.

Before he continued to get down on you, you quietly asked him to remove his shirt and as he did, he revealed to you part of his perfect body. By the superficial touches over his clothes and of course the preview bumps, you knew he had a toned chest, but to see it all on display to you… You literally moaned at the view.

You promised yourself that later on you would give every bit of that skin the attention it deserved.

You watched him smile shyly before kissing your inner thigh, without breaking eye contact. Jake was absolutely certain he would cum in his pants at any given moment. The mix of your little sounds with the way you were looking at him like you were about to eat him alive triggered a strangely pleasant feeling.

“Can I remove these?” He asked between kisses on your skin, pointing to your shorts. You nodded. “And these?” He pointed now to your panties and you nodded again, head resting on your pillow. “Yes, please. I want you.”

Jake noticed how wet you were through your last clothing piece and he literally had to hold himself back to not just dive right into you. He was getting dizzy by your smell, eyes hooded as he removed the only thing that stopped him from touching you like you deserved.

Jake salivated admiring your pussy, breathing heavily as he swallowed nothing.

At this point you were on the verge of crying due to your desperation and his unnecessary slowness, so you spread your legs even more and pleaded. “Please Jakey, I really want you,” you whined, grabbing his hair with your hand and forcing it down your cunt. “I don’t want you to hold yourself on me, pretty boy.”

And as if you casted a spell, Jake looked at you one more time before burying his face in you.

You gasped.

He felt you dripping on his mouth and grunted, collecting some arousal with his tongue to spread all over your area before flicking it on your clit, sometimes sucking just the right amount and sometimes doing big licks. His tongue worked so damn well, you just rolled your hips in order to get more. You were so sensitive and so needy. His grip on each side of your body got stronger as he pulled you closer.

You moaned Jake’s name when he decided to use one of his fingers together with his mouth, pressing it on your entrance with care, just to familiarize you with the sensation before adding one more. After all, he just wanted you to feel good and not to be hurt.

You kept rubbing yourself on his face and now grinding on the two fingers inside you. Jake was doing such an amazing job on you, curling his fingers the moment he needed to like he knew you from inside out, using the tip of his nose to rub your clit as his tongue and mouth worked in the rest.

“You’re doing such a good job, pretty boy,” you praised between moans and heard Jake groaning between your legs and intensifying his movements, eating you out as his life depended on it.

“I wanna you to cum all over my face, princess,” he said, muffled. His skilful fingers moved at a steady pace. “I need that, give it to me, babe, please.”

Your orgasm was already building up inside your core. You felt the familiar sensation growing bigger and bigger until you let it out the loudest moan of the night as your back arched. Jake’s words and all the combo of his warm mouth and fingers inside you were enough to make you achieve your climax, trembling beneath his touches, grabbing his hair tightly.

Jake drank you like it was his favorite drink, licking every single drop of you with pleasure, his dick now painfully compressed in his boxers. He could get himself off just by eating you out.

He drove you through your high, movements slowing as he felt your grasp on his hair softening and your body less shaky. He kissed your pussy a few times and then crawled over you to kiss you on the lips. You watched your juices decorating his chin, nose and a bit on his cheeks before you felt your own taste in your mouth.

Jake's hard, covered bulge rubbed against your bare cunt and you whined, breaking the kiss to down your hands all the way to his cock and to utter “Babe, you’re so hard.” Jake whimpered against your mouth and you flipped over to be on top of him. “Let me help you with that.”

And as you promised yourself, you trailed kisses all the way down his chest, putting your mouth and tongue to work through his soft skin, making him squirm a bit underneath you.

You stopped once you got to the waistband of his pants, taking it off with Jake’s help and removing his boxers as well. You sighed, mouth salivating at the view of his veiny dick right in front of you.

However, you needed to feel him inside you, so you let your other desires for later, starting to move in a way you could sit on him.

“I wanna ride you,” you announced as if it was your only goal in life. “Like, really bad.”

“Fuck, babe,” Jake groaned, watching you positioned yourself comfortably on top of him, quickly moving his hands to hold your hips. “Go on. Use me,” he threw his head back to just enjoy the sensation of finally feeling your walls around him, before realizing something was off. “But wait– Sugar,” he said with widened eyes, sitting up to hold you before you did anything. “You’re going in raw?” Jake questioned in disbelief.

You blinked at him, confused. “You’re clean, right?”

“Yeah, but–”

“So am I. And on birth control, don’t worry.”

Since you were still wet due your orgasm and because Jake’s little sounds aroused you enough, you pushed him back to bed, giving him a little peck before holding his dick and placing it on your sensitive area.

Jake knew he wasn't getting out of there alive. There was no way. How would he survive you? God, you were insane. And the way you slowly slid down on his length, using its precum to lubricate, sent him out of orbit in an instant.

He did nothing but open his mouth and moan, eyes rolling back to his head with the amazing feeling of your pussy coating him so tight and warm. He could feel you everywhere. He almost cummed just because of that alone, having to close his eyes tightly in order to concentrate enough to not let it happen.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake bit his bottom lip the moment you moved a bit, adjusting yourself. “You feel so fucking good already, fuck.”

You watched every reaction of his, enjoying it as a show. The frowned face in pure pleasure, the red wet lips, face all flustered and glowing, not to mention the dim light of your room working to make the view even more gorgeous and pleasant.

Jake felt you staring and how you stayed still for a while, finding support on his chest with your hands. He opened his eyes to glance at you. You gave him a little smile and he reciprocated, caressing the skin of your body under his touch as he waited for you to feel comfortable enough to move by yourself. Jake watched as you started to move back and forth slowly on his cock, your eyes closing with how good he was filling you up.

Although Jake's hands rested on your hips, he didn't force a single movement, letting you find your pace. He admired you for a moment, “you look so, so pretty right now, baby,” he praised sincerely, watching the way your expressions changed to pure pleasure as you moved faster.

You leaned forward to find his mouth with yours, kissing him, missing those pretty lips of his on yours. Your moans got lost between your mouths as you continued to move faster until you found the pace of your liking, Jake now helping you to keep it going.

Lewd sounds of your bodies shocking against each other filled the room, mixed with whimpers as well as the wet kissing sounds.

Jake reached down with one of his hands to rub your clit, and by the way his cock twitched inside of you, you deduced that he was close to cum and didn't want to do it alone.

You drew apart from the kiss to rest your head on the curve of his neck, sucking the skin as well as whimpering against it. The position leaded Jake to have his mouth directly on your ear, and with all the stimulus happening at the same time, his dick hitting your g-spot, his finger rubbing your sensitive nerve and his voice moaning your name in your ear, you started to clench furiously on Jake’s length.

“Wait–”, you barely heard him saying, too lost in your pleasure already. “Where do I c–”

“Inside,” you answered quickly before he tried to pull off.

“Fuck.” Jake’s head was spinning, he was seeing stars. “Be my girlfriend,” he let it out in one breath.

“What?” You asked back under your breath, questioning if you were hearing things due pleasure.

“Let me be your boyfriend,” he said panting. “Officially. Be my girl, please. Be mine,” he begged with a groan, cumming inside of you.

You openly moaned his name, rolling your eyes back as your orgasm also hit you. You thought that alone could answer his question, keeping on the movement to ride you two through your highs, his strong hands gripping you tightly and your whole body shaking.

You stood over Jake's body for a while after you stopped your movements, catching your breath and feeling his liquid leaking from inside of you.

He helped you to lay back on the bed, both still panting, both so happy about what just happened. You forced yourself to stand up just enough to kiss him before you said, looking deep into his eyes.

“I’m already yours, pretty boy.”

That weekend was intense. Still, you just couldn't get enough of Jake. And he wasn't too different.

Now your routine had changed a little more. He was still the sweet and kind Jake, worrying about you, asking about your day, listening to you rambling about random things, and always bringing you food on your busiest days. But it seemed like you had awakened a monster inside him.

Of course you didn't complain, especially because the one who was getting the benefits was you, who wasn't that different either, never getting enough of him.

Whenever Jake was stressed, he would usually take you somewhere to watch the sunset or to stargazing while talking about life and theories and obviously, kissing you.

Now he started eating you out. Almost every time. And sometimes he would mix these two, taking you somewhere beautiful and eating you out inside his car.

Jake had eaten you out in every room of your apartment, saying that him eating you out got him off more anything else, and you actually witnessed him cum untouched a few times, looking so fucking hot while doing it.

Nevertheless you still couldn't had the chance to give him a proper head. Jake would be saying you didn't have to do it, like you felt obligated. Little did he know that you wanted to feel his dick filling up your mouth and his cum going directly down your throat. Oh, you wanted so badly.

At this exact moment, you were sitting on your kitchen counter with your legs spreaded being supported on Jake’s shoulders as was getting lost between them, diving in your juices, making you cum with his tongue deep inside you. You reached for his hair with your hands, grabbing to bring him up and kiss him fervorous.

“Take me to the bedroom,” you demanded with an urge.

And how would Jake deny such a sweet request?

The moment you got into your bedroom, you tossed him on the bed. You were hungry for him, and him only.

You saw his already hardened cock marking his sweatpants and without giving Jake time to complain, you removed all his clothing pieces – he was already shirtless – and had him naked underneath you.

As usual, he thought you would ride him. Out of all the positions you’ve tried so far, this was a favorite of his – to look at you while you use him for your own pleasure felt too insanely good, so he got excited in advance. But you decided to surprise him this time, contradicting his expectations as you bend over to be at the same height of his pulsing cock, head pretty close to it.

He panicked.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” He asked and tried to sit, but as soon as he did you pushed him back to the bed.

“Imma suck you off,” you said like it was obvious. You wrapped your hand around his length and started to pump it.

“Y–you don’t have to, princess,” he stuttered, feeling hot under your soft touches. “Let me fuck you, mhm? You deserve to feel good.” He tried to sit again and you pushed him back one more time.

“Sucking you off will make me feel good too, Jakey,” you blew a bit of air on his shaft, he shivered. “Don’t you get that?” Your hands worked slowly on his dick, moving up and down, smearing the precum out of his slit with your thumb. He bit his lip to hold back a whimper. “Or do you think you're the only one who gets horny by giving pleasure to others?”

You ran your tongue all over his shaft, closing your eyes as you felt the salty precum taste spreading through your mouth, playing a bit with his tip.

Jake kept hiding his sounds from you.

His hands were squeezing the duvet under his body to the point his knuckles started to get white when you gave a little more attention to his head, realizing that this was his sensitive area. You took advantage of that.

Without a warning, you put his whole cock in your mouth in one go, feeling it hitting on your throat.

“Mhm,” he tried to contain his grunt, hips thrusting forward slightly and his left hand smacking the bed one time before grabbing the sheets again.

You held your position for a few seconds, making sure to breathe through your nose, before moving back and forth twice. Jake squirmed under you, still quiet.

“Why are you hiding from me, pretty boy?” You asked with a low voice when you backed off to breathe, hands replacing your mouth as you did so. Jake finally let it out a little whimper and you smiled. “I wanna hear you, baby.”

“I’m sorry,” he said apologetically, once more biting his lip in order to contain himself.

The reason behind his choice of behavior under your touches was literally due his fear of scaring you off. He would be a total mess if he let it all go as he really felt. Your hot mouth around his dick sent him to hell and heaven all at once, you didn’t had to do much for him to start seeing foggy and being a whimper mess.

Jake felt your lips coating him again and groaned, back slightly arching.

“So gorgeous, Jakey,” you backed off only to encourage with a smile, jerking him off before going back to suck him. He couldn’t hold back his loud moan, eyes rolling when you sucked his sensitive tip. You quivered. You wanted more of him. “Keep on making these pretty noises for me, yeah?”

Although he was afraid of scaring you off, one thing he loved to do was to obey you, to fulfill all of your requests. Whatever you told him to do, he would do it. So when you told him to be vocal, he started to be vocal.

Your mouth swallowed all his throbbing cock, his tip going deep in your throat, precum going down on it. Jake threw his head back, open mouthed, spilling all the little noises you loved. “Fuck, mhm, that’s it, babe,” he breathed out between groans and put one of his hands on your head without forcing you down or anything, just resting there.

The way your throat was pressing his sensitive tip as you swallowed around it, God, he was getting stupidly close. Jake dared to look down at you, meeting your strong gaze as you devoured him like a last piece of meal. “Fuck, you’re doing so good,” he gasped, rolling his eyes. Jake felt a familiar burning wave all the way through his body. “Fuck, I’mgonnacum”.

You kept your movements steady, lightly scratching his thighs before you felt Jake’s body start to shake, his moans intensify and his cum hitting down your throat. You swallowed every drop of it before letting his dick with a pop and using your thumb to clean up the corners of your lips as you crawled back to kiss him passionately.

At this point you were already horny again, so as you kissed him, feeling his shaky hands all over your body, you pressed your bare cunt on his softened shaft and moved a bit. He parted the kiss, trying to push you away.

“I– I don’t think–”, he tried saying. “I’m sensitive, baby– Ahh...”

“Yeah?” You rubbed your bare cunt on his dick with a sly smile. “So you don’t want me to ride you, Jakey?” You kept waving your body on him, forcing a disappointed face with a fake pout.

Jake trembled, feeling his eyes water in a painful pleasure. “Of c–course I– I do, fuck.”, his voice cracked, eyelids closing. He was fully unable to stop you at this point, and he didn’t wanted to anyway, so he just started to sob as you kept sliding on him, back and forth, slowly, painfully slowly.

You were sending him into overstimulation, loving his reactions, loving how desperate he looked. Legs squirming beneath you, eyes tearing up, hands messily trying to figure out what to do, facial expression switching in a mix of pain and delight.

“Please…” He begged. He didn’t even knew for what. Neither did you, so you asked. “Please what, Jakey?” You stopped moving. “You want me to stop?”

He hurried to answer “No! Please, don’t– Don’t stop.” Definitely his begging wasn't about stopping. His breath was short as you started to move again, still slow. Too slow. “Go faster, please darling.”

And how could you deny such a sweet request?

The wet sound of your pussy rubbing against his cock was too lewd. You leaned to kiss Jake, who wasn’t able to kiss you back properly due his undergoing situation. His was dick hardening again against your folds and that was your last straw.

Yeah, he was desperate because of overstimulation, but you were desperate to feel him inside you. So you repositioned yourself to slide him deep on you in one go, making both of you scream.

You threw your head back and instantly started to grind on him, making circle movements, sending both of you to cloud nine.

“Babe I– I’ll not last long– damn.” Jake said breathlessly, hands helping your hips to move.

“Make me cum with you, please,” you begged and of course he would never leave you hanging, so he did his work, rubbing your clit at the same pace as you bounced on him.

You felt your climax building up rapidly, breath getting heavier and heavier, body shaking as you heard Jake saying under breath "I'm cumming", while throwing his head back and filling you up with his warm liquid. You shivered, moaning louder and achieving your peak right after.

Your body fell over Jake’s, who immediately hugged you, panting, all sweaty. “This was…” He started to say after a while, still inside you.

“Good?” He analyzed your expectant eyes when you got up to look at him and chuckled at the difference of the demon eyes you were giving him earlier. “Incredible,” he kissed your forehead. “You are always incredible, my love.”

It was a weirdly sunny day when Jake seated you on his car hood, fitting himself between your legs while his hands rested on your hips, drawing little circles there.

You both decided to go out that day to celebrate your new job. But instead of going for a fancy dinner or anything similar, you decided to follow the roots of your relationship and asked Jake to take you to see the sunset.

And he would never deny anything to you. So here you were, looking at the pretty sky behind Jake’s back when he himself was sunk on your neck.

"Why does the sky turn orange during sunsets?" You asked nonchalantly, feeling Jake's kisses on your skin. He was inebriated by your scent and acting as if he was getting drunk on you.

He loved that.

He loved you.

"It has something to do with the light traveling through the atmosphere. Don't make me do my homework right now, baby," he said muffled, unable to leave your warm embrace. You chuckled.

You loved that.

You loved him.

"Sorry," your fingers slid through his hair, scratching slightly. He hummed in response.

It’s been two weeks since you started to call him your boyfriend and he started to call you girlfriend, the honeyed voice always making you melt.

Nevertheless none of you said I love you yet. Not that you two needed to. You felt Jake’s love on every action of his. The way he would look at you so dreamily at any point of the day, how he would embrace you so tightly at the end of a stressful one. Or how he would always clean you up after the sex, even when he was tired as hell. He treated you like a goddess. You felt it.

It was as clear as crystal water that you loved him too, at least you thought.

You would purposely ask questions about astronomy just to have him speaking animatedly in technical terms that you often didn't understand very well, but loved to see him sparkle in joy. Or when you cooked his favorite meal just to see his puppy eyes widening in surprise and thank you with a sweet kiss. Or even when you watched him play video games for hours without complaining, actually enjoying and hyping him up, sometimes playing together when he asked you to.

Jake, actually, noticed every bit of it.

He himself making sure to love you every moment of his day, making sure you were safe, fed, warm, and most important: happy.

Jake loved your smile. He loved to see you ramble about your favorite songs and flowers and chocolates and movies and everything.

He loved everything about you.

You exhaled. The feeling was consuming you, you had to let it out. The ache of holding it to only your actions wasn't enough. You needed to say it.

And you did. In one go.

“I love you.”

Jake lifted his face off your neck to look you in the eyes, kind of shocked by your sudden statement. “I don’t care if you don’t love me back, but I love you. More than stargazing, more than feeling a cold breeze under the moonlight, more than listening to my favorite artist. None of those feelings overcomes the feeling of having you around,” you caressed his cheek. Jake listened to you with attention.

“You color my world by just being around. Every part I go I look out for you,” you could see Jake’s eyes watering. “And I do find you in everything, because, Jake, you became my everything. It’s scary how much I need you. It's scary how much I can love you,” you rested your forehead on his, closing your eyes. “So yeah, I love you,” you whispered at the end.

Jake's breath got heavy as he assimilated all your words.

God, he loved you as much as you did. Lately he had to deal with the urge of telling you the three words, afraid of scaring you off as always. But now he knows you are as much in love with him as he is with you, and he felt so damn lucky.

"You wanna know something that has nothing to do with physics?" Jake spoke softly after a while in silence trying to find the right words. You weren't expecting that question after your confession. "What?" you asked in a whisper.

He looked so gorgeous under the golden light.

"I can watch a hundred sunsets with you," he said softly, loving eyes at you. He gently put a strand of hair behind your ear, as usual, and continued, "And you’d still be the prettiest view."

Jake didn’t had to verbalize “I love you” after that, but he did.

He did it continuously. He did it before you went to sleep and when you woke up. He did it before leaving you at your classes and as soon as he picked you up. He did it out of the blue, while you were vacuuming your apartment and he was dusting the furniture. Because no matter how much he said, it didn't seem enough.

It was love at first sight, blessed by the moonlight keeping their love secrets and under the sunset light, keeping their sweet passion burning.

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